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Her voice was firm and her stance solid, as she said, “Yeah, well I do. Now go and make some coffee and I’ll see to Savannah.”
“Katie,” I growled out her name in a warning.
“Dexter,” she mimicked making Savannah giggle.
“Don’t call me that. I fu-I hate that name.”
“It’s the name your mother gave you, so suck it up big boy.”
Before I had chance to reply, she was leading Savannah by the hand back down the hallway talking animatedly about Elmo and Rebecca, the doll in Savannah’s hand.
Sighing and resisting the temptation to kick the wall, I went to the kitchen and started to brew a pot of coffee. Ten minutes later, Katie appeared, looking a little less sweaty and minus her leather jacket and boots.
I looked her up and down. “Make yourself at home.”
“Savannah’s asleep,” she replied, moving alongside of me in the kitchen. “Now are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
“Don’t give me that BS, Katie, you know.”
She shook her head. “No actually, I don’t. If I did I wouldn’t have been calling and texting you and I wouldn’t have walked the four miles here to see you.”
That stopped me in my tracks. I pushed a button on the coffee maker and looked at her.
“Why the hell have you walked here?”
“Well I was coming in my car, but it decided today was the day it finally wanted to give up on life.”
“It fucking broke down again? I told you to get something better weeks ago.” I leaned back against the counter and crossed my arms over my chest, mad that her crap car had let her down again.
“I know,” she said on a swallow. “But I can’t afford it. N-now tell me what the hell is wrong.”
She wasn’t even looking me in the eye, but perusing my body and I couldn’t help but smile. I was wearing a thin white tee with my grey sweatpants, an outfit that I knew Katie liked. An outfit that always made it difficult for her to keep her eyes and hands off me. How fucking fitting it would be the outfit I’d be wearing on the last occasion we’d ever speak to each other.
As her eyes lingered around my crotch, my damn dick decided that four weeks without being inside Katie was too long and like a puppy getting excited about its owner coming home, the damn thing sat up and begged. Admittedly, it was a half-hearted beg, but all the same it knew who its mistress was.
“Why the hell can’t you wear underwear like any normal man?” she exclaimed, pointing at my semi. “It’s so bloody distracting. I came here for a serious conversation and you’re pointing that thing at me.”
“Well don’t look.” I shrugged.
“It’s hard not to. It’s bad enough knowing it’s under there without any clothes on it, but when it’s hard as well, it’s too…I don’t know, too much.”
“Never heard you complain before,” I muttered.
“I wouldn’t be complaining now if we didn’t have things to discuss, like why you left on Saturday night. You were happy and joking one minute, trying to get in my knickers, and the next you buggered off home without an explanation.”
I narrowed my eyes on her. “Think about it darlin’, who fucking turned up to turn the mood sour?”
“Carl, I know. I explained to you on my numerous voicemails that he stayed all of twenty minutes and then left. I also explained that he wanted to stay and I’d said no. Is that why you’ve been avoiding me, because he asked to stay?”
She stalked over to the sink and taking a glass from the drainer, filled it with cold water from the faucet.
“Sorry,” she gasped, gulping it back, “but I ran the last bit and as you know I’m not the fittest person in the world.”
“How come it took until today to come see me?” I looked at the clock on the cooker. “I left at around seven on Saturday night and we’re now at two p.m., Monday. Didn’t think I was in a shitty enough mood to warrant a visit yesterday?”
She colored and looked down at the floor.
“Well?” I urged.
