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- Aiden -
I smelled her before I even opened my eyes, smiling as I inhaled the scent of her faded perfume mixed with sex and sweat. It was nice. So nice I wished my whole apartment smelled that way.
When I finally did open my eyes, she was resting on the pillow across from me. I desperately wanted to lift the comforter and peek to make sure I hadn’t imagined her gorgeous body, but I didn’t dare let any cool air under the covers in case it would disturb her. Plus, it looked like she was curled up in the fetal position so I’d have to wait until she woke up to get a good look anyway.
And for the moment, I was happy to watch her sleep. Her face was crushed against the pillow and her eyelashes made subtle movements as she slept, like she was watching a movie on the back of her eyelids. Her slightly parted lips looked fat, and I was desperate to drag my finger across them but I restrained myself.
A split second later, my mind flashed back to the only night she ever slept over when we were in high school. She hadn’t meant to, but we played video games until three in the morning drinking warm Heinekens I’d stolen one at a time from the mini fridge in my Dad’s spare garage. Eventually, we just sort of passed out. She left in the morning before my parents woke up, but not before I had a chance to watch her sleeping.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she looked as young and innocent that morning as she did this one.
But I did know better. Or at least I knew she wasn’t innocent now. She probably wasn’t then either. I just didn’t know. But even if her innocence was up for debate, it was no secret that she was delicate, more delicate than she ever let on.
And I felt lucky to be one of the few people she felt comfortable being vulnerable with, especially because I knew that kind of closeness and trust didn’t come easily to her.
But last night did. Whatever the hell Pandora’s box we’d opened, we’d broken the lid off and there was no going back. Not now that I’d seen what she could do with her body, her mouth, her tongue. I hadn’t had it that good in as long as I could remember.
The best part was that it felt like she genuinely enjoyed making me feel good. Sometimes I felt like girls just put out as a means to an end- cause they were desperate for a boyfriend, or a Valentine, or access to my bank account. But I didn’t get that feeling from Lucy. I didn’t get the sense that she was just going through the motions.
After all, I knew she wasn’t afraid of being alone, and she’d never had any interest in my money since my parent’s stopped getting season tickets to Six Flags when we were twelve. Though if I recall, she was pretty disappointed about that.
But it felt good to know she liked me for me, that she was attracted to me because she knew what I was, not just who I was. And whether her feelings had come out of nowhere or they’d always been lurking under the surface didn’t concern me. All that mattered was that I felt the same way.
I only wish I’d felt it sooner. Then again, maybe if I hadn’t dated all those vacant social climbers, I wouldn’t have appreciated having her in my bed as much as I did now.
Hopefully I hadn’t snored. I’d been told alcohol made it worse, and I probably drank enough at the wedding to fill one of the golf course’s small water features, but it would’ve been nice if she’d been spared.
Oh well. Maybe she was passed out enough not to be bothered either way. She certainly was now. And god knows I’d tried to exhaust every inch of her inside and out.
As I watched her sleep, I couldn’t help but think that there was something extra special about waking up beside her, but it took me a while to figure out what it was. After all, I’d woken up next to more women then I could count.
But this time was different because I didn’t feel lonely. For years, the fact that I could wake up next to a beautiful woman and still feel lonely bothered me, especially because I knew it was enough for other guys. I thought I might be defective.
Still, I couldn’t shake the fact that something was always missing, and I didn’t know how to fix it.
Frankly, I’d felt lonely waking up next to Chelsea for the last six months of our relationship. Except now I knew why that was. Cause she wasn’t really there. She had checked out.
But Lucy was there. And maybe that was why it felt like the void was filled. Whatever it was, I didn’t feel alone when she was around. Not that morning, not ever. And this was as great a realization as any I’d had the night before.
With the grace of a tiptoeing bear, I slipped out from under the covers and walked over to the closet by the door. I couldn’t be bothered putting all my clothes on just to run a simple errand so I slid the door open as softly as I could and dragged one of the towely robes off the hanger. The wooden hanger banged against the back wall and I grabbed it, squeezing my eyes shut like it might help make the noise stop.
Then I held it in my hand as tightly as I held my breath.
Lucy didn’t stir.
I released the hanger gently and slipped the robe on. Then I slipped a room key in my pocket and walked out the door.
As soon as I closed it silently, I looked down and shook my head. I had neither shoes nor slippers on, just my dress socks. Fuck it. I was only going to be gone five minutes. As long as I didn’t run into my mother, I’d be fine.
As I rounded the corner to the elevators, the little old lady from yesterday was standing there with a small rolling suitcase.
“We can’t keep meeting like this,” I joked.
“Don’t worry. I’m checking out.”
“You sure you aren’t stalking me?”
