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“In my argument of old is better, I will play the oldest song I own.” He laughed and browsed through his playlist for a few minutes.
Finally he stopped on something, placed the iPod on his nightstand, and returned next to me. I laid my head on his chest. Warmth radiated from his satin skin. His scent covered me like an expensive sheet and I sank into it, feeling at home for the first time since I’d met him. A new song played.
“What instrument is that?” I’d learned he had an ear for picking out instruments after only hearing a few notes.
“Acoustic guitar.” His body stiffened.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Nothing.” He stroked my arm with his fingers.
“Tomorrow. Will you be there, with that sweet smile on your face and those flowers in your hair,” the guy sang. “Or is this just only for tonight, will things change once we turn on the light? Tomorrow.”
“Who is this?” I asked.
“This is Banyan Prodd,” Chase said.
“I’ve definitely heard this song before. I just didn’t know who sang it.” I closed my eyes and yawned.
Chase brushed my hair away from my shoulders and massaged the back of my neck with gentle circles.
I loved the way he touched me. Each finger delivered its own glint of delight into my body. I could tell that he was familiar with the intricate details of how to please a woman. He understood how to keep a lover satisfied and her mind constantly on him, whether he was around her or not. His skill alarmed and intrigued me.
“I used to yearn for tomorrow, never thinking of the now. But here you are and now I can’t seem to think how, I ever craved tomorrow.”
“I love this,” I whispered.
“My mother did, too. She used to play it over and over. I could hear it drifting from her bedroom on Sunday mornings. She would sing it too. God, she had a beautiful voice.”
I opened my eyes and gazed up at him.
A dim light from the doorway cast a glow on his sculpted face.
“Sometimes I would wake up, quietly tiptoe to her open door, and sit down next to it, holding Mr. Talbot and listening to her sing.”
I smiled. “And who is Mr. Talbot?”
“A very smart teddy bear.” He moved his hand from my neck and pressed the button to start the song over. Something about the way he described his mother caused me to wonder if she was still alive.
Didn’t Lucy say that she died?
“How did your mother pass away?” I asked.
“She was killed when I was a kid.” He offered nothing else, and I didn’t feel comfortable pushing the topic any further. He chuckled. “I can’t believe I forgot how much she loved that song. Tonight, I play it and all of a sudden that memory hit me as soon as he started singing.”
“Well, it sounds like a great memory. I can’t imagine you as a child.”
“I was an angel.”
“Oh goodness.”
He pressed another button and then wrapped his arms around me.
The song played for a third time.
“You should put the song on repeat,” I offered and shut my eyes. “It’s so mellow. I may fall asleep to it.”
“Sounds good to me.” A beep came.
