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Marisa
I was royally screwed. I couldn’t stop thinking about Tyler. He was unequivocally taking over every part of me. Especially my heart. I closed my eyes, hoping to dispelthatthought. My brain had a mind of its own. Instead of thinking of nothing in particular, I thought about his kiss. His touch. How he smelled.
If I wasn’t at work, I might just allow myself to relieve the pulsing sensation between my legs. I could make myself come within seconds thinking of his wicked mouth, talented tongue, and how he filled me up when he pushed deep inside. If I closed my eyes, I knew I’d be able to feel his hands and how he touched me.
More than the sexual connection between us, what got me right in the gut was how he made me feel. Like he accepted every part of me. Like he’d never judge me. I mean, he’d cleaned my linen closet and hadn’t made any rude comments. Sure, he called me “Messy Marisa,” but it was said with humor. The silly nickname was almost endearing.
Then there were the lengths he’d gone to when I was sicker than a dog. The man moved heaven and earth to make sure I had everything I needed.
And then last night with his night terror. I had suspected there was a possibility he had Post Traumatic Stress and might have nightmares. It was more common than not for people who did what he did, went through what he did. But PTSD could happen to anyone—anyonewho was exposed to trauma, even an injury. Tyler’s affliction wasn’t a sign of weakness. And I hoped our talk reassured him I didn’t judge him or think less of him because of it. I had been worried he wouldn’t open up and talk or that he’d brush it off and pacify me with some witty quip. But him being so candid about his experience proved his trust in me. He wanted to let me in. And I wanted him to let me in. I wanted to let him in too.
But I wasn’t supposed to.
Not according to our arrangement.
I forced myself to sail on with my day, trying to make sense of my feelings, trying to get some clarity and figure out why my head and my heart were at war.
Head: “This was supposed to be no-strings-attached. Stay the course.”
Heart: “You can’t be unattached when you have a man like Tyler anchored to your heart. True love weathers all storms, and Tyler will be your lighthouse to guide you safely home when you feel like you’re lost at sea.
* * *
My phone buzzed with an incoming notification.
Tyler: Hey gorgeous
I was in a surly mood. I just woke up. I still felt like crap. I wanted to cry. Again. I was beat. Emotionally. There was no way I’d get what happened out of my head anytime soon. Still, I tried to put my misery aside. It wasn’t Tyler’s fault what happened.
Me: Hey handsome
Tyler: How was shift last night? Catch any bad guys?
Me: No bad guys. Everything was fine until about midnight.
Tyler: Why?
Me: Super shitty call
Tyler: Wanna talk about it?
Me: No. I want to punch something. LOL
I did want to punch something. My LOL was to try and lighten the mood of my text.
Tyler: Do you really want to punch something?
Me: Yes!
Tyler: Do you know where Roy’s is?
Me: Yes
Tyler: I can be there in 30? Wanna go?
Me: Yep
Tyler: See you then gorgeous
