A Metallica Moment
We were sitting in Lee’s teak chairs on the balcony. It was post morning sex, I was wearing one of Lee’s tees and a pair of hot pink lace hipsters, drinking my coffee, my feet up in Lee’s lap, zoned out with my gaze settled on the Front Range. Lee was also drinking coffee, but he wasn’t zoned out. He was reading the paper which was spread out on the table. He was absently stroking one of my feet and was wearing a pair of gray sweat pants and nothing else.
Even though it had been an active morning, I was still only on coffee number one and my mental processes hadn’t yet kicked in. Regardless of this, I realized the feeling I had was contentment and yes, even happiness. Maybe even real happiness. Maybe even off the charts happiness.
Lee put the paper down, sat back, stretched his legs out in front of him, crossed the ankles and took a drink of his coffee. His gaze leveled on me, although I wasn’t looking at him, I could feel it.
He put his coffee down and started to massage my foot, this time with both hands. It felt super nice, he had strong hands and he knew how to use them.
“I’ve asked Dawn to get some guys to come in and pack up your stuff and move it and your furniture to storage. Today, you need to pack anything you want to bring over and I’ll come around tonight and we’ll move you in.”
Happiness fled instantly and panic seized every cell in my body, my eyes moved from the Front Range to Lee and I stared, unable to speak.
Lee kept talking. “I know a property management service. I called them yesterday. They’ll rent your place, make sure it’s a good tenant and maintain it for a fee. We’ll get it advertised next week.”
I finally found my voice. “I know I promised to move in by this weekend but… isn’t this going a bit fast?”
Lee’s hands moved to my other foot.
“Yep,” he answered.
“Don’t you think we should slow down?” I asked.
“Nope.”
“Why?”
Okay, you could hear the panic edging my one word question, but still.
Instead of answering, he dropped my feet, bent double to get up and kissed my forehead as he did so. Then he walked into the condo.
I stared at him moving away from me.
He walked well, confident, close to a swagger but not quite. His sweats were drawstring and rode low. His back was beautifully muscled. I kept staring into the living room even after he was gone, zoned out again, the image of his back pleasantly burned on my eyeballs like after you accidentally looked directly at the sun.
Then I saw him come back.
He sat down, lifted my legs at the calves and put my feet back in his lap and threw a little pink case at me across the table.
I stared at it in horror.
My birth control pills,
I’d forgotten them, totally and completely.
Holy crap.
I grabbed it and looked. The last one I took was Monday. I was all over the place these days, I wasn’t in my normal day-to-day schedule. I was two pills behind, too late to catch up and I’d been having sex. A lot of sex. Apparently a lot of unprotected sex.
I slapped the pills back down on the table.
“I didn’t do it on purpose, I swear,” I told him.
“I know you didn’t,” he said, his hands back to massaging my foot.
“We have to stop having sex, like, immediately.”
His hands stopped massaging, “That’s not gonna happen.”