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Despite occasionally being a pain in the butt, I love having him around.
Worse. I got used to him.
And I think he likes being here with me as well.
We’ve done our best to make this work these past few weeks. He took over my tasks while I started to work with a web developing firm on a new app. My new schedule allowed me to catch up on my reading and work on other stuff.
We’ve never talked about what happened between us on Christmas Eve, let alone fuck. That’s not to say sex is not on our minds. It sure is.
He also does all sorts of things that make me think about him all the time.
And yet, he also makes it clear it’s not my call.
Aside from that, he spends almost every weekend with Sara and Emma while I stay home, pretending I don’t miss him.
I don’t ask him how he’s spending his time, and he doesn’t offer any answers on his own. This was––still is––part of our understanding, and I don’t intend to challenge it.
I promised him to stay out of his life, and that’s precisely what I’m doing. Although we have the freedom to see other people, I, for one, cannot do it right now, and he doesn’t confess to doing it either.
Per our understanding, we keep our lives separate as much as we can.
We both spend our days at home, working, and also try to cohabit peacefully at night, not stepping on each other’s toes.
He got his own room and fixed his car, and he’s a pleasure to be around. In fact, he’s too much pleasure, and that’s the hardest part of all.
He knows it and doesn’t make it easy for me at all.
He’s playing with me, tossing teasers at me here and there–– a flirting smile, an undertone, and a wink that makes me blush.
He tempts me with his body whenever he gets a chance, wearing clothes that make me want to peel them off with my teeth.
Jeans barely clinging to his butt, shorts redefining the meaning of package, T-shirts outlining his muscles––and that’s if and when he remembers to clothe his chest.
I know every scar and mark on his torso better than my business, reminding me that I should try to mind my own business.
But as I said before, ignoring him is not an easy thing to do.
He does it on purpose to push me to the brink of desperation or perhaps to test my limits and the seriousness of my words.
But no matter how hard he tries, I’m not falling for his tricks. I stay busy with my work and make sure I keep my head straight.
Even so, my eyes always find him.
Like now.
Bringing the cup of coffee to my lips, I sip and glance out the window. The door to the backyard is open, and the AC is turned off for a change.
It’s the middle of January, and it looks and feels like spring. The weather is beautiful, which is one of the main reasons tourists flock to Florida this time of year.
The air is warm and dry. The trees bloom, and a layer of colorful petals––pink and golden––cover the ground.
Torches outline the backyard, and strings of paper lights litter the trees, swaying slowly in the wind.
It’s warm during the day and cooler in the evenings.
Once in a while, we experience a really cold night, but that’s rather the exception. The days are shorter, sunny, and breezy, the palmetto leaves always dancing in the wind.
Sprawled in a lounge chair, Jaden talks on wireless earphones, his fingers running over the keyboard. The pool boy has finished up his work and is heading to the house.
