16. Chapter 16
Chapter 16
Morrie
I woke up in the morning a bit dazed and uncertain of where I was. The warmth in the blankets wrapped around me and the weight of Scott pressed up against me weren’t familiar, but that didn’t meant they were unwanted. Being warm when I opened my eyes was such a good feeling that I almost forgot the reason why I was here in the first place. Once that memory hit me, I settled into the bed, head reeling a bit at everything that had happened the night before.
“You’re thinking awfully hard over there,” Scott mumbled, stretching and moving away from me. “What time is it?”
I glanced at the clock on his bedside table and saw that it was just after ten in the morning. When I said as much, Scott sighed.
“I’m supposed to go and check on progress at my buildings this morning.”
“Sorry, I kept you awake.”
“Nope,” Scott said, rolling over and scooping me into his chest as I laughed, tumbling into him hard. “No apologies. You needed me and I wanted to be there.”
“Thank you.”
We went silent for a few minutes, existing in that space between asleep and awake, until Scott cleared his throat. “Can we talk about yesterday?”
“I thought we did?”
“Not all of it. I’d like to talk about some of the things you said.”
Worry prickled inside me, and I turned my head so I could see Scott. His eyes met mine and his hand reached out to cup my cheek. “You realize I’ve never kissed you.”
“You've kissed me.”
“Not really. A little kiss. I meant a real kiss."
"Oh?"
I must have looked as confused as I felt because a laugh left Scott’s mouth. “I’ll show you what I mean when I’ve brushed my teeth.”
“If you say so.”
“Coffee?” Scott asked, rolling out of bed. He plucked the sheet from last night up off the floor and I smiled to myself. I had wondered how long it would take for him to clean that up. I was actually fairly surprised that he hadn’t done it before crawling into bed last night.
I stretched in the sheets like a cat, feeling the pull of my own muscles and a hint of soreness between my legs. I had had sex before, but never had anyone delved that deep into me. I could have sworn I felt every inch of Scott as he’d moved in my body and that thought made my cheeks burn a little bit. There wouldn’t be a repeat performance today, I knew, but if that was what sex with him was like, then I was in. Scott threw on a pair of pants he took from his drawer then headed to the bathroom. Alone in his room, I looked around at the warm walls and comforting, soft mattress. I should be feeling more out of sorts, I knew, but I was too raw in a lot of ways to worry about why I didn't. Instead, I rolled off the bed and grabbed my reindeer onesie off the floor, sliding back into it. I wasn’t feeling much like I needed to play but it was adorable and warm, plus I still couldn’t get enough of the way the antlers felt between my fingers. When Scott emerged from the bathroom, he smiled at me and crossed the room until he came to stand right in front of me.
“Ready for a kiss?” he asked.
“I guess?” I responded, with a shrug.
Scott leaned down and gently pressed his lips against mine. I went through the motions of kissing him back, still not getting what the big difference was until he moved his hand to the back of my neck and tangled his fingers through my hair, holding me there while his lips moved on mine. I met him tentatively as he applied more pressure, his tongue sneaking out to lick at my lips. As I parted them, his tongue met mine and I responded back with my own until finally he let me go and took a step back. My legs felt a bit like jelly and I could feel the silliest smile creeping over my lips.
“That was what I meant by a good kiss,” Scott murmured, reaching out to give one of the antlers on the head a little tug. "Do you see the difference?"
“Mmhmm,” I responded, feeling a bit dazed where I stood, Scott’s lips still a shadow on my own. He smiled again, knowingly before turning and heading out of the bedroom, looking back to see if I was coming as well. I followed Scott down the hallway, rubbing my hands over the soft tummy on my onesie before reaching up to the antlers and giving them a quick squeeze.
Scott moved around the kitchen as I swung myself up into one of the tall barstools by the half wall that separated this room from the living room. I watched him as he made coffee, his red hair looking dull in the dim light of the kitchen and the darkened winter morning I could see through the window. When the coffee was brewing, he turned to face me, bracing his hands on the counter that separated us.
“How are you feeling?”
“Good. Better than I expected. I don’t know. Yesterday was a lot of things and I’m a bit scattered trying to think of all of it.”
Scott nodded like he understood, even though he probably didn’t. Still, it was nice that he was trying. “Are you going to call your landlord this morning?”
“Yeah, I probably should. I hope he answers.”
“Me too. He didn’t answer when I called last night, but maybe he got my messages.”
“He never answers his phone,” I sighed, shaking my head. “He doesn’t like fixing things, but this is big enough that he’s doing to have to do something about it. I hate that he didn’t sell it to you. I'm sure you'd fix it.”
Scott smiled like he agreed with me, though he also looked somewhat relieved that the building wasn’t his to deal with. I got it, on some level. Nobody wanted to buy a building that was falling apart.
Instead of commenting on that, he offered, “Our conversation last night was great. I am so happy you shared with me, Morrie.”
“I am too.”
Scott smiled but I sensed there was more he wanted to say so I gestured for him to keep going.
“I have thought about this a lot and I’m wondering if you’d be open to talking to someone about what you’re going through.”
I frowned. A therapist. That’s where he was going with this conversation. It wasn’t like I hadn’t heard it before. My last Daddy had suggested it when we’d parted ways but I felt like I was doing okay now. Scott understood me and that was enough. “I’m okay.”
“Morrie, you’ve been carrying a lot of stuff with you for so long. Let me ask you something. How long did it take for you to let me touch you last night?”
“Like ten minutes.” Or shorter. Maybe longer. I couldn’t remember but I knew that it did happen and that had to count for something.
“And how hard did you have to think about that before you let it happen?”
The real answer was ‘‘too hard" but instead of saying that, I shrugged. Scott sighed and leaned over the counter, putting his face close to mine.
“I care about you, Morrie. That’s all.”
“I know.” I cared about him too, as scary as that was.
“I think I might book an appointment for myself,” Scott said as the coffee maker beeped, signaling the pot was ready. “Maybe I could use some help too.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. It couldn’t hurt, right?”
“I guess. I went when I was little because the social workers made me and it wasn’t great.”
“Were you able to work through some things?”
I shook my head slowly as Scott poured two cups of coffee, sliding one over the counter to me. “I didn’t get much out of it. They wanted me to talk, but I wasn’t comfortable, so I didn’t say anything. After a while, I think they just gave up because I stopped having to go.”
“I’d like you to think about it, that’s all. Could you do that?”
I could think about it, I supposed. There was no harm in that. My agreement seemed to make Scott happy and that felt alright too. He placed a sugar bowl on the counter in front of me and I nudged it away.
“No sugar or cream for your coffee?”
“Plain and strong,” I replied, taking a sip. As much as I craved sugar, I really liked the bitterness of coffee on my tongue. Scott, on the other hand, heaped a huge teaspoon of sugar into his own mug before taking a sip. To each their own, I guess. I should have figured that my sweet Daddy would also like his coffee that way. That brought another reminder to my brain.
“Christmas party,” I said, blurting the words out with no basis.
“What?”
“The Christmas party at The Red Door is next weekend and I’m not sure, but I don’t think I have to work.”
Scott grinned, taking a sip of his coffee before putting his mug back down on the counter. “Does that mean you’ll be my date?”
“You date or your boy?”
“My both.”
I pretended to think for a moment, scratching my beard with a finger as Scott rolled his eyes at me. “I’ll be your both.”
“Are we blitzen that night?” he asked, lifting his cup again.
“We are blitzen all over that night. You were right before, we might need a different word for little time. It’s confusing. Can I play with Perry at the table like we like to do?”
“Of course. Will you let me get a picture of your on Santa’s lap?”
“Ambrose’s lap,” I corrected. “Though I’m not supposed to know that. Perry says pretending it’s really Santa is part of the fun, but I’ve seen the pictures and that man in the red suit is Ambrose.”
“Maybe you could let yourself pretend that night too.”
“I could try.”
“All I ask is that you try, my brave little one. That’s all I ask.”
“What?” Perry screeched into the phone as I winced.
“My apartment was dripping water.”
“Morrison, that’s so dangerous. You should have called me, I could have come to get you. Where are you now?”
“I’m staying at Scott’s,” I confessed. “We had a date at a Christmas market and he had just dropped me off, so I called him. I thought maybe his construction friend could help, but he says it’s too bad for them to fix. I have to call my landlord today to find out what’s happening.”
“Are you going back there?”
“Yeah, as soon as it’s fixed, I’m going back. I miss my home. I didn’t sleep well last night here at Scott’s place.” As it was, I was curled beneath my baby blanket with Blitzen and Mr. Starkey on my lap, pretending I couldn’t see the sharp lines of the walls or the lack of books and junk on the shelves.
“Did you sleep in his bed?” Perry asked, and I could tell he was grinning as he said it.
“At the end of the night, yes.”
Perry gasped. “And you agreed? Did he touch you?”
“Perry,” I cautioned, though I was smiling a little bit.
“Morrison. You got touched in the good way.” Perry sounded so certain of himself on the other end of the call and I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Sort of? He gave me a massage and then things happened. Not everything, but some things.”
“And was it good?”
“Yeah.”
“I told you that you needed to be touched. I am so happy for you.”
“It’s nothing, Per. Nothing I haven’t done before with someone,” I scoffed, though it hit me that last night hadn’t been what I’d experienced before and I stopped in my tracks. To cast what Scott and I had done in the same light as what I’d done with my online hookups felt wrong, like I was slighting the amount of effort he’d put into making everything feel just right for me. Instead of pressing me for more, he found a way for us to be together that felt good for both of us. “I suppose he feels sort of safe? Like he just… touches me right and gives me the space I need?”
“Your big, strong Daddy. Of course he does it right."
Perry laughed but my mood turned a bit more somber. "There's something else. He asked if I would see someone."
"I don't follow. See who?"
"A therapist," I sighed. "He thinks it will help, but I think I'm okay."
Perry went silent on the other end of the phone and I found my self sitting up a bit straighter on the couch as I waited for his response. Finally, he exhaled a shaky breath right into the phone. "Morrie. I love you. You are my best friend. You know that right?"
"Yeah."
"Have you ever let me give you more than a small fist bump? In the whole time that we've know each other?"
I knew the answer as much as he did. I didn't let him touch me, though I knew he wouldn't hurt me on purpose. Swallowing hard, I mumbled a "no."
"I think it's great that you've let Scott into your world and that your brain has decided that he's sort of safe when it comes to touching you. I really am happy for you, but Morrie, don't you think that the fact that it's even a question is a problem? Maybe it's more than just touch that's holding you back?"
"I don't know," I responded, entirely uncertain now. I had expected that Perry would agree with me. That he'd say I was okay and that Scott was just being an overprotective Daddy.
"Think about it, okay?" Perry asked, sounding sad on the other end of the call. "Make a call. Ask some questions and think hard about it."
We both went silent as a thousand thoughts rushed into my head. Maybe I was the wrong one here and that rattled me to my core. The longer the silence stretched between us, the stronger I got the sense that Perry was angry with me or upset and I didn't want that. Not when I had some good news I hadn't shared yet.
"I'll go," I agreed into the phone, heart squeezing at the thought of it.
"You will?"
"Yeah. I'll find someone. I'll try it."
"I love you, Morrison."
"I love you too, Per. Can I tell you some good news now?"
"You have more good news?" Perry sounded like he was a bit happier on the other end of the call and my body felt lighter where I sat.
“You will be pleased to know that I think I’m off work the night of the Christmas party at the club.”
“You think?” Perry asked, sounding excited.
“I have to check to be sure, but I think so. I called in sick today, but I work tomorrow and I’ll let you know for sure. If I don’t work, I’ll be there.”
“Can we play together still? Or does all of this change now?” Perry asked, his voice pitching a bit softer as he spoke.
“Perry, you’re my best friend. Who else is going to build all of the block towers for your dinosaurs to knock over?”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Perry was silent for a moment before he spoke again. “Since you’re all happy and in love now, does that mean you’re finally going to shave your face?”
I snorted a laugh. “What are you talking about? I’m not all in love.”
“Yet,” he responded. “But answer the question.”
“What does my face have to do with any of this?” I reached up and touched my beard with my fingertips, brushing over the hairs slowly.
“It’s how you hide. When we met, you didn’t have a beard, but you started growing it once people at the club treated you like the little you are and tried to snuggle with you in the booth. With your first Daddy, you shaved it off when you started getting comfortable with him, but the moment you guys broke up, you grew it back. Remember? I've been waiting for you to shave it all off so I can see your real face again.”
“I don’t really know.” I hadn’t considered that before, clearly having been unaware that it was a sort of pattern I followed. I knew Perry commented often that while my facial hair suited me, it hid the features of my face that he said made me even more handsome. I’d chalked it up to just simple teasing and compliments on his part, but I’d never considered that there was a deeper signal he was looking for in me that started with removing the hair from my face.
“Think about it,” Perry responded.
If it felt right for me to shave it all off, I would, but I was still running through everything that had happened in the last day in my mind as the conversation changed from my beard to Perry’s new Christmas candy cane onesie.