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To be fair, I wouldn’t condone this kind of behavior from anyone but him, because I love him. Love makes you do crazy things.
“Let me show you where I grew up,” he says.
“You want to take me Scotland?”
“I want to take you everywhere, but we’ll start with Scotland.”
“Okay. Let’s go to Scotland.”
A train-ride later, we are in the village where he grew up. It’s cute, like one you see in a cop show on BBC, but I can tell he doesn’t think of this place as home.
Before we head home, we see London, Paris, and Venice. All the places I’ve wanted to go, but never had the time.
At home, we go directly from the airport to his place where we break in his bed. His house is less than two miles from my parents. He said he liked being close to me.
“I wish you had said something back when we were kids,” I tell him after two, maybe three orgasms. I’m lying in his arms as he strokes my back.
“How would that have gone?” he asks, his accent thicker now that he’s sleepy.
“Not exactly like this, but soon enough,” I say.
“I think it was better this way. I felt like I had to earn you.”
“You’ve earned me, Darren. More than. Maybe I haven’t earned you.”
“No babe. It doesn’t work that.”
“Shouldn’t it?”
“No. This is how it’s meant to be. I’ve always known that.”
“I love you,” I tell him before I drift off to sleep.
Sometime later, I wake up. It’s dark out and Darren is softly snoring. I walk out into the kitchen and open the fridge. Water, beer, and rotten fruit. I have got to go to the store. I grab a water and twist the cap off, taking a long pull of it.
“You’re up,” he says, making me jump.
“I couldn’t sleep. I’m hungry.”
“I could whip something up for you,” he says.
“I looked. You don’t have anything.”
“Get dressed. There’s a dinner down the street.”
I smile at him and go get dressed. We walk down the street and into the dinner.
We wait the hostess stand to be seated. Just our luck, the hostess is young and recognizes both of us immediately.
“Welcome to Don’s. Booth or table? Oh my God. Darren Sinjin and Jenna Dexter?”
“Yes.” I look at her name tag. “Bianca. We would like a booth please.”
“Sure, right this way. I am like a big fan of both of you guys. Can I get an autograph? Please.”
“Of course, Bianca. What would you like us to sign?” Darren asks her.
“Um, a napkin, I guess.”
