Page 47 of Seasons of Love
"Hmmm."
I rarely drank, which was why I felt like death would have been a less harsh sentence to last night's outing. And the worst was that I didn't even suffer from alcohol-induced amnesia. Nope. I remembered every single stupid thing that came out of my mouth.
Oh fuck.
"Slade?"
"Yes, sweetie?"
My belly filled up with butterflies at the term of endearment.
"I have questions."
"Okay?"
"How did I get home last night?"
"You were too drunk to be safe on the bike, even with me riding, so I put you in a cab and followed the cab home. We're at my place, by the way."
"We are?" I tried to open my eyes, but nope, it was too early.
"Yeah, I thought you might be unwell today, and I also needed clean pants. As it turns out, my laundry doesn’t do itself when I’m not here." His chuckle made everything move, but it felt nice. Everything he did felt nice.
"Another question. Um…did I really talk about my ex?"
"Richard the Tiny Dick? Yup. At length. It was quite amusing. I mean, I'd totally throat-punch the guy if I saw him, but I'm happy to know my dick is better than his…even if everyone in the bar now also knows."
Jesus fucking Christ, I was never ever in my whole life, however long it may be, going to have another drink. Ever.
"I'm sorry," I said into his chest.
A phone rang, louder than it should in my opinion. It wasn't my ringtone, so I covered up my head with the bedsheet.
When it stopped, Slade turned back to me. I know this because he kissed my forehead like a gentleman. I knew he was hard. He normally was in the morning—so much for complaining about his age—but he wasn't pushing me for sex.
I hated that the thought that Richard would have behaved differently was even crossing my mind. He had no place anywhere I happened to be, and certainly not when I was with Slade.
"Open your eyes, baby," he said softly.
I did, and this time it didn't feel so bad.
"Hi," I said.
"Good morning, gorgeous. Do you want coffee?"
I nodded.
"Okay, you stay here, don't do anything wild, and I'll come back in a minute with some coffee, toast, and a painkiller, okay?"
God, I love this man.
I opened my eyes so wide that I felt like I was being stabbed all the way to my brain. What the fuck? What kind of weird thought was that?
Temporary. This was temporary because I'd nearly met all of my objectives when I left San Diego, and I'd be ready to go back shortly.
I even took my fingers out to count them.
One. Take a break to cleanse from Richard because, even after almost a year, his presence somehow still permeated the walls of my apartment.
