Page 130 of Stanton Unconditional

Are you awake?

I smile sleepily and reply.

Yes

It bounces back again.

I’m ten minutes away.

I smile and text back.

K

I smile and lie down then start to doze. Another text comes through.

I’m at the door.

It’s locked.

Oops! I fell back asleep. I jump up and go to the front door and open it in a rush. And there he stands. Tall, dark and extremely handsome. I smile broadly and go to cuddle him.

He looks around at the guards. “Tash, not here. Inside.” He pushes me back in the house. I smile bashfully. I am wearing grey satin boxer shorts and a white tank top, and my hair is all over the place. He is in a dark suit and never has he looked more beautiful. Gently he tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear and tenderly leans down and kisses me. He’s so much taller when I have no shoes on. He runs his fingers down my cheek and wipes them over my lips as he seems to study my face, his face is serious and pensive.

I smile. “You’re very intense tonight, Mr. Stanton,” I whisper as I run my hands over the back of his hair.

He smiles down at me. “Am I?”

I nod and kiss him again. The kiss ends, and we stand silently, resting our cheeks together intimately as we embrace. What’s going on here? This is new.

“Thanks for coming,” I smile into the quietness. “Are you hungry? I can make you something,” I whisper as I pull him into the kitchen by the hand.

He follows me in and stands resting his behind against the counter in the corner of the kitchen.

I start to fuss around in the pantry. “Do you want some toast? A cup of tea?” I ask.

He smiles and nods. “Yes, please.” He looks around the house. “I haven’t been here for a long time,” he says quietly.

I smile and nod. I don’t want to bring up the last time he was here. It was horrific.

He stays silent and I know he has remembered that awful day also. I silently make his snack while he watches me, and I hand him the plate.

“Thanks” he smirks.

“You’re welcome,” I breathe.

“Show me your room,” he whispers.

I nod like a nervous fourteen-year-old about to show her boyfriend her room for the first time. “This way.” I take his hand and lead him down the hall to my bedroom. Why does it feel more intense in this house than it does in mine? I’m nervous.

I get to the door and gesture with my arm into the doorway. “Here it is,” I stammer.

He can sense my nerves and smiles as he walks in and looks around. “Has it changed since you moved out?”

I shake my head nervously. “No, this is how I left it.” I close the door behind us.

He sits in the chair in the corner and smiles again as his eyes scan the room.

“Hmm, it’s nice. Your presence is very strong in here,” he whispers.