I quietly studied him, taking advantage of the fact that he couldn’t catch me staring. Without the serious expression he wore most of the time, he looked different. Younger. Less like the man who walked into every room expecting people to move and more like somebody who had finally allowed himself to rest.
My eyes moved over his face before dropping to the tattoos across his chest. I remembered touching them the night before, tracing lines with my fingers and tongue.
The memory sent a warm sensation shooting through me, and I quickly looked toward the windows as if the city outside had suddenly become more interesting.
This was the first morning I had woken up beside another man in over ten years.
That should’ve felt strange, but it didn’t. Instead, what felt strange was how comfortable I was.
Vice shifted beside me, his arm tightening around my waist before his eyes opened. He looked at me for a second without saying anything, and I couldn’t tell whether he was fully awake until he gave me a lazy grin.
“You been staring at me?”
“No.” I lied. “I just woke up.”
“So did I, and you was looking at me.”
I rolled my eyes, even though I had already been caught. “Maybe I was making sure you were still breathing.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know. You’re old.”
Vice stared at me like I was crazy. “I’m thirty-four.”
“Exactly…” I tried to get up but he pulled me back to him.
“Say some more shit.” He said as he started tickling me, causing me to scream. I laughed as I pressed one hand against his chest.
Still laughing, I said, “You woke up talking crazy.”
“You were the one pretending to be asleep while I looked at you.”
“I wasn’t pretending.”
“Sure…”
Vice rolled onto his back and brought me with him until I was lying across his chest. I should’ve moved, but his hand settled against my back, and I stayed where I was.
The room got quiet again as my mind drifted to a place I didn’t want it to go, and the longer I lay here, the harder it became to ignore the questions running through my mind.
Vice must’ve felt the shift in me because his hand stopped moving. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“Here you go.”
I lifted my head. “What does that mean?”
“It means something on your mind.”
I rested my chin against his chest and looked at him. “What happens now?”
“You stay here.”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s not what I meant. I’m talking about us.”
Vice’s expression changed, not enough to make him look uncomfortable, but enough for me to know he understood exactly what I was asking now.
