looked at it. For some reason she doesn’t want me to know he’s still contacting her and I don’t blame her.
I’ll give her some privacy, but I’m uneasy. She fires off a text; I hear the swoosh as it goes. She quickly sends off another one. Her eyes meet mine.
“Shower time?”
I hesitate, my brain wanting to ask about the second text.
He’s in New York.
He’s not here.
I am.
If he shows up, I’ll deal with him.
Holding out my hand for her to come with me, she smiles and takes it. No argument, no fuss, and no question. She’s mine today and if I have a say, every day from here forward.
I can’t remember the last time it rained this hard. It makes me uneasy. I’ve never liked the rain; I think it’s sad and depressing and makes me never want to leave my house. It rained the day my dad died. The streets flooded, schools were cancelled, and most people stayed home from work. It rarely ever rains this hard, but today feels just like it did three years ago, the day I closed my dad’s eyes and the morgue took him away.
Matt called this morning. He must have some sort of telepathic ability the way he calls and shows up at exactly the right moment to throw me. I’m not going to let him get to me today. I promised Damian I’d give us a shot, and I’m going to stick to that promise.
The shower helped, but now that I’m home, grabbing my own coffee mug, the tension is slipping back in. How do we do this? I know he doesn’t do casual, but what exactly is he looking for?
I’m staring in my cupboard figuring out which mug feels like the best one for this situation when my phone rings with that song again. Damn Matt and his terrible timing. I decline the call, and silently high five myself for not answering.
As my eyes scan the variety of inappropriate coffee mugs, an anxious feeling that my life is about to get slightly complicated settles over me and I think I need some sound advice.
“You better be ready to spill some details this time.”
I laugh at the sound of Paige’s voice.
“All I’m going to say is it’s a good thing our two apartments are the only ones in this building. If we had any other neighbors we would have kept them up all night.”
She sighs, “Damn, I knew that boy had stamina.”
“Boy is definitely not the description I’d give him.”
“So why are you calling me instead of spending the day in his bed?”
Good question. “Because I’m a little freaked out. This is my first . . . I don’t even know what to call it, since Matt. I’m not sure exactly what to expect or how to act.”
I can sense her smile through the phone. “You act like you.”
“That sounds too easy.”
“Because it is. Damian already told you he’s not looking for casual, he’s known you for a few months and clearly he likes what he’s seen. Keep doing what you’re doing, the rest will fall into place.”
That makes sense. I can do that. “Thanks, I have no idea why I’m suddenly so insecure about this.”
“It’s new. Until you spend a few days like this you’re going to have some hesitancy.”
“You should be a couples therapist, Paige.”
“Uh, no thanks. Keep me posted.”
“Of course.”
A mug catches my eye that I haven’t used in a long time, and I decide it’s perfect. I grab it, throw on a pair of yoga pants and sweatshirt and leave for Damian’s place, my confidence back in tack.
“Fill’er up, Offside.” I hold my mug out for him.
He grabs it from my hand and cracks up. This was one of my dad’s favorites. It always embarrassed me to death, but it is so appropriate for this morning. “Help wanted, many positions available?” People in a multitude of sexual positions cover the white ceramic; some of them we’ve tackled, many we haven’t come close to.
Placing the empty coffee mug down on the counter, he cups my face in his big strong hands and kisses me. A panty melting, fuck the coffee and take me back to bed kiss. Small moans escape the back of my throat, and I try to wrap my legs around him. Even after the hours of sexual activity and the insane number of orgasms, I could start all over again. He pulls back slightly and smiles. “I think this is my favorite mug. Can I keep