“You look hot in them.”
Then I blushed, which was fucking embarrassing, so I pretended to be focused on putting bacon onto a plate, which meant he was staring at my ass, which made me even more self-conscious.
“That a new shirt too?”he said.
“It’s old new.I haven’t worn it since we started seeing each other.I found it in the back of the closet when I was packing.”
It was a long-sleeve, black-and-white shirt.One of my ex-girlfriends bought it for me because she thought I looked cute in black and white.Guess she wasn’t the only one.
I filled the plate with bacon and bread, brought it to the table, and sat down.I’d just put the plate down when he leaned over and put his hand on my thigh.I wasn’t expecting that.I laughed.He didn’t.Then he leaned in and kissed me, which I was up for.He moved his hand up and cupped me, and I nearly jumped out of my chair.
“You don’t want to shoot in those brand-new jeans do you?”he said with a calculating smile.
I tried to say “no,” but it came out sounding funny, and the next thing I knew, he’d unzipped me and got down between my legs.And then, right there in the kitchen, he blew me.
I tried to hold on longer this time.Pride, you know?I wasn’t doing it to make it harder for him.I did it so I wouldn’t seem so pathetically easy.I had to hold on to the kitchen table, and I tried to keep quiet, but I’m only human.
He held me in his mouth for a long time afterward, and I stroked his cheek, rasping with stubble.Have you ever felt almost crippled from loving someone so much?
When he let me go, I slumped back in my chair.I felt weak everywhere.He stood up, and he held me, and I rested my head on his stomach.
“Two blow jobs in two days,” I said.“You’re spoiling me.”
“You deserve it.”
“How come?”
“For making breakfast.For those jeans, that shirt, that haircut.”He nudged me back and looked into my eyes.“For being so fucking sexy.”
Then he kissed me, and I laughed into his mouth, because I was so happy.
Then we ate breakfast.Afterward, while he was in the shower, I gathered the tin of brownies and yesterday’s leftovers from the fridge to take to the car.For the twentieth time, I checked that the ring was still zipped into my coat pocket.He came out of the bathroom dressed, with his hair still wet.He put on his jacket and backpack.
“You got a hat and gloves?”I said, because I’d never seen him wear any.
“No.”
“It’s gonna be cold.You’ll need them.I have extras.”I got a knitted beanie and a pair of gloves out of my bedroom closet and handed them to him.“Bet I sound like your mother.”
“You don’t sound like my mother.You actually give a fuck.”
“Then who made sure you were warm enough in the winter when you were a kid?”
“I just got cold.”
I thought I knew him, but I kept tripping over things I didn’t know.I pictured him as a little kid shivering outside with nobody caring, and I felt so angry at his parents.I pulled him into my arms and hugged him tight.“You’re never gonna be cold again, honey kid.Not on my watch.”
“Sure,” he said, patting my back lightly.
I went through the apartment, dropped some slow-release fish food into the aquarium, checked that the lights were off and the windows locked, then double-checked the front door lock as we went out.In the parking garage, I gave him the food to hold and got in on the driver’s side, because no way was he going to drive.I looked for some music to play.
“Not ‘Jackpot’,” he said.“Please.”
“What’s wrong with ‘Jackpot’?”
“You play it all the time when you tap.”
“If we’re making Road Rules, no distracting the driver when we’re on the road.”
