Page 84 of Blakely and Liam

The newness of you

(Blakely)

The hotel room was dark; a tiny light glowed from the smoke detector, the air conditioner rattled and hummed. The sheets were crisp, heavy on my legs. I pulled the covers up and once my eyes adjusted, looked beside me at the large lump that was Liam. I watched him as he slept, my eyes following the planes and lines of his face, the curves of his wide shoulders.

I wriggled closer and pressed my lips to his skin and drew in the smell of a man’s cologne — what was it… Dior or… ? He smelled a little like the forest, but also musky with a bit of bergamot — I inhaled, some sandalwood too, and kissed that shoulder again. I nestled my head in, heavy on him.

He was new. I was unused to him in bed beside me, warm and big, a heavy presence. The cadence of his breath was comforting. I rubbed my hand across his chest, feeling the form of him. He was mine — he was, wasn’t he? He had promised himself to me. He stirred and rolled toward me and scooped me toward him, and wrapped his arms around my back, his cheek nestled against my breast. His voice gravelly, he mumbled, “How come ye’re awake, Woodshee?”

“It’s not easy to sleep, I think I’m worked up with the newness of you.”

He yawned and nestled in, smacked his lips, and a moment later he was heavy asleep, but then I drifted off as well, cuddled in his arms.

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