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Mom was all cried out as well. She had been comforted by Slate. Grandma had been comforted by all of us. I was lacking in comfort at the moment.
I glanced over at the clock again: 2:48 a.m.
Fuck this.
I got out of bed and quietly slipped into a pair of jeans and sweater. I hadn’t even bothered to wash my make-up off earlier. That was something I did religiously, but not tonight. I had simply collapsed into bed in my underwear once it was clear everyone was crashing.
I ran my fingers through my hair and slipped on a pair of side-zippered boots.
I slipped quietly down the carpeted stairs, thankful that the set of Mom’s car keys Taz had tossed to me earlier were still in my purse. I grabbed my bag and headed out into the pre-dawn hours of Christmas morning.
I started my mother’s car and backed out of the driveway. I knew exactly where I was going and what type of comforting I needed.
As I pulled my mother’s Mercedes up in front of Taz’s place, the reality of what I was doing sunk in.
Suddenly, all the resolve along with the sprinkle of courage I had mustered upon setting out on this twenty minute drive suddenly dissipated.
Holy crap.
What if he totally rejected me once again? Could I handle double rejection from the same guy?
Worse yet, what if he wasn’t alone?
Oh God, I hadn’t even considered that before I set out on this pathetic quest for comfort.
I reiterated in my mind that comfort was really all I wanted from Taz at the moment. Those strong, warm arms wrapped around me at the house before he left had been soothing, comforting and for some odd reason felt caring.
I gathered my courage once again, and walked up the steps to his front porch. His apartment was dark with the exception of a dim light from a lamp further back in the apartment. It was probably in his room. Was he up?
I rang the bell and heard it chime from within. I sucked in the cold, December air as I waited to see what reaction my middle of the night visit would evoke.
From somewhere inside, a light switch was hit illuminating his porch light.
God, I felt like I was standing under a spot light looking fairly pathetic at this point.
I heard the lock on his front door click; the door was pulled open.
“Lindsey, what the hell?”
He pushed open the storm door, holding it ajar so that I could step inside into the warmth of his apartment.
I noticed he was wearing a pair of grey sweat pants with a drawstring and a tight, black tee. His pj bottoms hung low on his hips, his tee shirt clinging to his muscular chest and firm belly.
“Are you okay, Lindsey?”
“No, Taz,” I whispered, coming to stand next to him in the entry hall, “I feel so sad right now and so alone. I’m sorry for waking you up in the middle of the night. I don’t want to be alone. Will you hold me?”
I saw his face, his beautiful face soften as he understood. He shut the door behind me and took me once again in his strong arms.
“Of course I will, baby girl,” he murmured, pulling me tightly against him. “Come here.”
He helped me off with my jacket, wrapping his arm around me as he walked me into the living room.
He switched on a lamp next to the sofa and pulled me down next to him on the sofa. His eyes were searching mine. He was searching for a clue as to why I was here. It was difficult for me to understand why I was. How could I possibly explain it?
“Can I get you something, a glass of wine maybe?”
I knew it would at least nudge me in the right direction. Perhaps it could give me a boost of courage that I knew I needed in order to tell him what I really wanted.
