Page 85 of All That Remains
Following a pregnant pause, he shrugged.
“Seriously, mate. What is it? It’smental.”
“Your stuff, babe.”
“Obviously. But why?”
“I was keepin’ it for ya.”
“No, you weren’t. Mate, you had no idea we’d ever see each other again.” He was only half-awake and grumbled something incoherent. “Be honest with me.Please.”
“You really think I’d let go that easy?”
That was a start.
“Rafe…you have any idea howfuckedI was? Formonths? I was goin’mad...I must’ve written a hundred songs in that first month.”
“Me too.”
“Ineededthis,” he continued. “It felt like…closureor somethin’.”
“I get it.”
“Back when I was movin’, and y’know, havin’ a bit ofbotherabout ya…I found so much shit of yours.” He stepped around me and tossed a hand at the hair-raising collection. “They’d been lyin’ around the house. I couldn’t just toss ‘em out.” He resumed his position, grabbing me from behind and propping his chin on my shoulder like a disgruntled puppy. “And every time I thought of leavin’ it behind, y’know, in the U-Kay, it just made me feelsick. I needed to bring it, so I did.”
“I get it, Rome…IswearI do. And I’m flattered as hell,” I marveled. “But, mate,what the hell? What if someone finds out? What ifshefinds out?”
“I know,I know…fuck.” He knocked his forehead against my shoulder. “I'm just..."
"Yeah?"
"I’m justcrazyfor ya, is all. Think I’m insane?”
“Yes…” I laughed, turning to look at him. His hair was mussed, so I smoothed a few tendrils from his face. “You’re a psychotic little hoarder…but in thebestway possible. I’m insane too, y’know. Like you wouldn’t believe."
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah…for you. Only for you.” I set our foreheads together. “It feelsunreal…like I’m gonna wake up tomorrow and you’ll be gone.”
“I’m right here.”
“Yeah, you are. But still…I'manxiousas hell.”
He kissed me to shut me up. I tasted his minty toothpaste. We suspended the kiss to move into the shower, where we quickly resumed it and explored each other unabashedly. My fingers were in his ass, playing with his tight, warm insides. He was faltering, hardening against my thigh.
“Rafe..." he groaned. "We seriously can’t.”
He was right. I was too exhausted forround twoand didn’t think I could deliver the way I’d like to. We needed to eat and replenish our energy, then I’d get him back in bed. I settled for washing him instead, pulling on his shaft every now and then to tease him, and trying to keep him from touching mine. We laughed when the suds from the shampoo toppled onto his face, and I cleared them away with wet fingers. Then we let the jets blast us.
He nudged my cheek with his nose, dragging his fingers up and down my arms, tracing my tattoos. Tugging me off with a languid affection that made my stomach ache. Then we were back in bed. Starved for food, but making out instead.
28
Again, I awakened, this time to the sound of someone humming, and a cool and consistent application on my toes. Groggy-eyed, I lifted my head to find Rome dressed in a black tank-top and sweats, diligently painting my toenails with orange nail varnish.
"Rome?" I grumbled.
He kept at his task, blowing the paint on my toes until it dried to his satisfaction. When I wiggled them, he slapped my foot, and I fell back onto the bed with a laugh.
