I decided I would scoot away and leave him there. He looked comfortable enough. I’d escape upstairs and sleep in the next morning, sleep in until I knew for certain sure Hector was gone.
Though, before I left, I’d put a blanket over him, just in case he got cold.
I took my eyes from him and cautiously edged away, lifting myself up and pulling my arm from around his abs.
His hand went from relaxed and resting, to tight and firm on my hip.
I angled my head to look at him and found, in my movements, I’d brought my face closer to his.
I noticed immediately he wasn’t asleep anymore. His eyes were open and he was looking at me.
Darn.
Before I could think (and thus stop myself from speaking), I whispered, “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
Then I watched close up as his face warmed. It warmed in a way I’d seen it warm before. The way it warmed that night in my father’s study when I was sliding my hands up his chest and around his neck right before I asked him to kiss me.
I stopped breathing.
He kept looking at me and I felt a weird sensation that I knew was complete and utter fear mingled bizarrely with the barest hint of anticipation.
His gaze dropped to my mouth.
My mouth went dry.
The anticipation fled and the fear took hold and I started to panic.
I was about to push away, run away, get out of there as fast as my French pedicure toe-nailed feet would take me when his fingers at my hip flexed and I fought through the fear and focused on him again.
“I need to get home,” he said softly.
At his words, the panic disappeared and relief filled me.
I nodded. He did an ab curl, pulling up, taking me with him until he was on his feet and he planted me on mine, right in front of him.
Then before I could move away, he grabbed my hand and I had no choice but to walk him to the door.
He stopped there, hand still in mine, body so close I could feel his heat and he looked down at me.
“I go out, I wait until I hear you lock the door,” he informed me.
I nodded again.
Then he went on, “Tomorrow night, I’ll be back. Seven o’clock. I’m taking you to dinner.”
The panic came back and my mouth dropped open. Hector “Oh my God” Chavez wanted to take me out to dinner?
How bizarre was that?
My mind scrambled for an excuse and, thankfully, I had one.
“I can’t. Buddy and Ralphie and I have plans,” I told him and it wasn’t a lie. We were going out to dinner and they were taking me to a drag show afterwards. They’d decided, after all that was my life, it was high time for me to start having fun.
“Then Monday. I’ll be here at seven,” Hector replied immediately and I opened my mouth to speak but he lifted the other hand, the one not holding mine (still!) and put his finger to my upper lip.
I stopped breathing again.
He took his finger away. “It’ll be casual; there’ll be no reason to put on your designer armor.”