Chapter Twelve
“Hell no!”
Yeah, that’s pretty much what I figured he would say. He’s insulted so I just need to lay out all the reasons why my idea is flawless.
“If you move out of your house now it will be easier to sell and then that will be taken care of before you leave. I can help you get rid of stuff and put things in storage. In fact, I’m gonna need a storage garage for this car. We can get a bigger one, split it and you can store your stuff in there while you’re gone.”
He doesn’t respond right away so at least he’s mulling it over. He takes so long to reply I think he’s not going to but he finally says, “I can’t mooch off of you.” I should be thrilled because it sounds like he might be willing, but his harsh view of himself and the situation stops me short.
“Danny it’s not…” I start to give him my logical perspective, that we’re friends helping each other out but I realize that there is no room for reason here. It’s killing me to see him hurting so much and to know I have a solution. If he would just see it from my point of view.
I drop it but it still sits heavy between us. I wish I hadn’t said it. I didn’t mean to kick this good man when he was already down. We have nothing to say to each other for the next few hours.
✈✈✈
The sun is coming up and Danny looks exhausted so I check the hotel app on my phone.
“There’s a Fairfield coming up in Jacksonville. They have free breakfast so we could eat and sleep for a few hours.”
I’m trying to be helpful but it seems to irritate him moe. “I’m not going to let you pay for a hotel room. I’ll get some coffee and we’ll keep going.”
I would let him be right, for once, if his plan wasn’t so dangerous. He needs sleep if he’s going to keep driving and it doesn’t look like his crushed male ego was going to let me take over anytime soon.
“I’m not paying for it.” I say quietly, “Points,” I remind him.
“Bob’s points?”
“I mean technically, yes, but they’re also my points to use. He never uses them. When he’s not traveling for work, he doesn’t like to go anywhere.” He briefly considers it then shakes his head no. I change tactics.
“I’m tired, Danny, and hungry. I’d like to take a shower and change clothes.” I hate resorting to a take-care-of-me plea but we need to stop and it’s a way that puts him back in charge. I add in, “Please.”
“Fine. Tell me where to go.” He says on a resigned breath, then mumbles, “like there’s a chance you won’t.”
✈✈✈
We eat breakfast in silence, focusing on the news that’s playing on the flat screen at the far end of the room; our silent stalemate a painful reminder of how much I’ve already screwed things up.
In our room, I shower first. When I finish I announce that it’s his turn but he’s sound asleep on one of the two double beds. I stand there and watch him, wearing only his briefs; his large, beautiful male body sprawled across the bed. I’m getting chilled, my hair is still wet and I’m wearing only a towel in the air conditioned room.
I want him. I want his warmth. I want his affection; his arms around me, his heart beating close to my ear. I think about taking the other bed and leaving him alone but then I remember my Dad and Carla and their short time together. Carpe diem, girl. I peel off the towel, lay it on the pillow and slide into the small space available next to him. He wakes briefly and looks at me. I look back, pleading with my eyes, completely vulnerable, raw and naked—risking a very painful rejection. He gives in, but huffs out a frustrated sigh before he pulls me in close to him and spoons around me. This is not the way I had pictured things between us, not what I had hoped for.
When I wake the afternoon sun is seeping through the cracks in the drapes. I’m facing Danny’s chest. He’s breathing deeply and I watch, mesmerized by the rise and fall of his chest. I reached out to caress him and tentatively touched one of his nipples, wondering if that would feel as good to him as it does to me. He stirs briefly and smiles in his sleep. Interesting.
I lick his nipple, and then scrape it a little with my teeth. He continues to move closer into me, instinctively pushing his sleep-erection against me. I slide one leg over his hip and revel in the sensation.
He’s still half asleep but I’m completely turned on and desperately wanting that sexual high and connection with him again. I reach down and stroke him through his briefs, then reach inside the waistband, wanting to feel more. That gets his attention. He opens his eyes and smiles lazily at me.
“I could get used to being woken up this way.” I like the way he says it, like he’s warming up to the idea of us living together.
“I could get used to waking you up this way.” I smile back and slowly stroke him, trying to replicate the speed he likes. It feels so good; physically, sure, but more than that. At this moment I feel close to him, connected, like we’re a couple.