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I had wanted to stay in bed with her, lazing through the morning with perhaps a late brunch, but after our exchange the night before, I needed some space or I knew I’d be the one to let the words slip—the words we both know were hanging between us all night.
Not surprisingly, the following Monday in class, Presley acted as if nothing had happened… a coping mechanism I’m guessing or perhaps it really didn’t mean to her what I thought it did. She smiled, talking animatedly to Serenity and offering me a flirty wave and smile as she exited the classroom. She even sent me a funny text on Tuesday with a meme comparing me to Frankenstein since I told her I didn’t have a heart.
“What the fuck,” I groan, feeling sorry for myself.
In a matter of only a few months, this woman has become my friend, the only person I want to share my thoughts and feelings with, the person I want to call or run to when I’m feeling frustrated or need to talk through what I’m thinking. She always knows what to say to talk me down or help me make sense of something.
I wish she had questioned me further that night about why things wouldn’t work between us… I wish I’d been man enough to just tell her why. It’s not because of this Meridian deal, which is what I’m sure she thinks it is. It’s because she deserves someone who can give her a real life. Not someone twenty-plus years older that she’ll have to take care of someday. Not someone who’s already destroyed his reputation and she’ll inherit it, living her life trying to defend it or end up resenting me because of it.
This is when the pity party really starts to settle in for me. I want her to know that I’m not tossing her aside because some deal or money is more important to me. I’m falling in love with her… I think I’m already there and that terrifies me because she’s far too good for a man like me.
By the time I’m on my second coffee and thoroughly exhausted from the mental gymnastics I’ve put myself through this morning, it’s been two hours. I watch the sun peek over the horizon, casting a bright-orange glow over Lake Michigan.
It’s that time of year in Chicago, where we have officially entered spring, so we’re blessed with a sixty-degree day or two in a row with sunny skies, only to have a weekend of snow and clouds as winter rears its ugly head again. Today looks like it’s going to be one of the good days.
I head down the hall to my bedroom, reaching for my phone to check the time when I see a text from Presley.
Presley: Good morning, sir. Don’t forget our run tonight. I was thinking we could do it on the lakefront since it’s supposed to reach sixty today? I’ll meet you earlier at your place. Four work? I have a date with Serenity later.
My heart almost falls through my ass when I see the word date, but I’m quickly relieved to see it’s with Serenity. I smile, typing out a response and hitting send.
Me: Good morning, beautiful. Four works great. See you then.
* * *
“I owe you an apology,” Presley says, wiping away a few beads of sweat from her forehead.
“For?”
“You told me that I’d be fine running this race and you’re right. I can’t believe how easy four miles is after only a few weeks of training.”
We stroll along the lakefront after finishing our run. I look over at her and shake my head. “And yet you sure did throw a temper tantrum when I told you you were running this damn thing with me.”
“I did not.” She playfully smacks my arm. “I simply wasn’t expecting to have to do it is all.”
“Is that all?” I ask hopefully.
“Well, that and”—she twists the end of her ponytail—“I was really nervous about the idea of being in forced proximity to you.”
“Forced proximity?” I scoff. “Damn, you know how to make a man feel special.”
“No, I mean—I was really attracted to you and intimidated by you so the thought of being around you like this made me really nervous.”
“And now?”
“And now I’m still very attracted to you and intimidated by you and nervous around you.” She laughs.
I loop my arm around her neck, pulling her against me, the sound of her laugh making me feel all warm and fuzzy.
“Do you have time for a shower and a bite to eat before meeting Serenity?”
She looks down at her watch. “Yeah, I think so. We’re not meeting until seven thirty for drinks. I guess it depends on what kind of shower you’re talking about.” She looks up at me with that impish little grin.
“Hmm, well, when you look at me like that, I think we both know what kind of shower it’s going to be.” I smack her on the ass as we cross the street to head back over to my house.
We barely make it through the door before I’m peeling her sweaty clothes off her, leaving a trail up the stairs to my bathroom where I place her on the counter so I can eat her pussy.
I pull her up to a sitting position, stepping between her thighs to kiss her deeply. “What kind of shower do you want this to be, Presley?” Her eyes are glassy, her lips puffy. “I want to hear you say what you want me to do to you. I know you like when I take charge—I see it in your eyes—but I know there’s something in that brain of yours right now, something on the tip of your tongue. I want to know what you’re too scared to say.”
