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He eased off and put one giant warm hand on the center of my chest as if to steady me. Or to feel my heartbeat to verify I’d survived. The other he pulled from between my legs. As I watched, he sucked on the finger that had been inside me like it was his favorite dessert.
“Better than bread pudding and ice cream, babe.”
I snort-laughed and rolled towards him. “I’m going to be so late.”
“We’ll shower together,” he said, helping me to my feet, his eyes pinned to my boobs.
“My eyes are up here, jerk,” I said, although there wasn’t much sting to it.
“Your eyes are up there, but your pretty titties are right here and I’m looking at them for as long as I can,” he said, smiling at me. “Now, here is the plan. Quick shower, then we stop for coffee, then I’ll take you to practice.”
I nodded, following behind him to the bathroom.
“Hey,” I looked back to the living room as something occurred to me. “I fell asleep on the couch last night. How did I get into the bedroom?”
Dillon turned. “You don’t remember?”
“I remember a little bit of the space documentary and then I was waking up in your bed.”
“You got up to pee, and you were half out of it. I just nudged you toward the bedroom and you crashed.”
That made sense. Half the time I never remembered getting up to pee in the middle of the night, although I knew I did it.
“I didn’t do or say anything embarrassing, did I?”
“Does drooling all over my leg count?”
“You know a gentleman would never tell a lady that she drooled.”
“Oh babe. We both know I’m no gentleman.”
I put my hand over his cheek, the Dimples Grande vanishing as the laughter faded from my face.
“Didn’t we agree not to say it?” he said.
“I feel like we have to. Or we’ll keep slipping. We can’t do this anymore.”
“I was thinking, if you take the job in Montreal we could still see each other sometimes. When our schedules worked out.”
It shouldn’t have hurt. I mean, of course he’d think that. I could take the job in Montreal and we could start some kind of casual long distance thing. Something that would fade into the background whenever he needed it to.
I would fade into the background while he did things that mattered more to him.
I shook my head. “Dillon, I can’t be casual,” I said. “Not with this. Not with you.”
“Yeah, sure. I get it,” he said. “We’ll just see how things go.”
Only I didn’t think he did get it.
When I left. I was gone.
21
The Following Week
Liv
The contract from Montreal was burning a figurative hole in my figurative pocket. I couldn’t think about anything else.
