Chapter 17
Chapter seventeen
Laney
What's Stranger Danger Again?
Waking up in Miguel’s arms is like waking up inside a dream.
Except there is a quiet musical tone getting incrementally louder with each passing second.
Miguel stirs and squeezes me to him while the alarm continues to sound.
“What time is it?” I ask through a yawn.
“5:05.”
“Why are we awake this early?”
“I’m going for a run.” He states matter of factly then presses a kiss to my temple.
I sit up and watch Miguel swing his legs over the side of the bed, silence the alarm, and stretch his arms over his head. The muscles in his back flex and a lightbulb goes off inside my head.
Complete with a little ding sound effect.
I want to lick them.
But wait, what did he say?
“You’re going for a run?”
“I always run in the morning. Except on race day.” He says as he stands and walks to his dresser.
“Am I supposed to come with you?” I ask, I wasn’t mentally ready for a run this morning. Nor do I have a sports bra, socks, shoes, or fucking shorts either.
“You can if you want to but I wasn’t expecting you to. This is, just, something I do.” He says simply.
“Okay, then I guess I’ll stay here? Or, maybe I’ll come with you? But, I don’t have running clothes with me.” I’m rambling and also realizing I need to brush my teeth, badly. I run my tongue under my lips and swallow hard.
“Laney, it’s alright. This will be a quick run and I’ll be back in an hour. I’ll stop for a toothbrush for you on my way back.” He winks and pulls on a pair of running shorts before reaching back into his drawer for a pair of socks.
Miguel walks past me into the bathroom and I stare at the ceiling.
I know I wanted this, I wanted to experience this with Miguel.
But now that I have him I’m not sure what to do.
He comes out of the bathroom as he pulls his hair back and kisses me on the forehead before walking out of the room. A few seconds later I hear the door open and close and I spring out of his bed and rush to the kitchen where I left my phone last night.
“Come on, pick up, pick up.” I mutter as I get to the third ring.
“Laney? What’s going on?” Dee’s sleepy voice finally greets me.
“I slept with him.” I whisper.
“Huh?”
“Miguel.” I say flatly because she should already know who I’m talking about.
“Laney, you called me, why are you calling me Miguel?”
“Dee, I slept with my coach, Miguel, last night.” I say at a regular volume. Hearing it confirmed in my own ears as the news reaches my best friend.
“Oh shit.” She says and all the sleep is gone from her voice.
“Yeah.” I agree.
“So?” She asks.
“I dunno.” I say with astonishment.
“But, like…” She ventures.
“Yeah.” I agree.
“And it was…” she leads.
“Unreal.”
“Yeah.” She says with a wistfulness only a person who has experienced a fantastic orgasm can. “Where are you now?”
“Still at his place. He went for a run and we’re going to ride later.”
“Bike ride or boy ride?”
The nerves scatter with the laugh that bursts out of me.
“Bike ride.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.” I say. But, also, maybe I’m not so sure.
“Well, remember to pee after so you don’t get a UTI.”
“Wow, way to squelch any and all mystique from this conversation.” I don’t bother telling her all we did was oral last night because it was by far the most intimate night of my life.
“Looking out for you boo.” She says. “Well, shit, am I supposed to just start my day now?”
“I dunno, but I’m going to snoop around his place.”
“Atta girl.” Dee cheers and then she yawns deeply.
“I’ll see you tonight.” I tell her. It’s going to be a long day if I’m up this early and delivering until midnight.
“Hey Laney?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m glad you’re getting some. You deserve orgasms.” Dee says the last word through another yawn.
“Thanks Dee, you do too, for the record.”
“I know, I just ordered this lemon shaped clit sucker that social media sold me. I’m good.”
“I’m glad.” I tell her. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Later.”
I hang up and survey the kitchen. The dishes I washed while Miguel showered are waiting to be put away on the drying rack. I’m not sure where everything goes but I have another forty-five minutes until he’s home so I might as well try to put things away.
Then I can snoop.
Several minutes later every cabinet door is open as I cross back and forth through the kitchen trying to find a home for the tortilla warmer, the last thing to put away.
I open the cabinet above the sink and slide it up there. Something topples off the ledge and I knock it with my palm in my attempt to catch it.
A little orange plastic bottle tumbles into the sink.
“Shit.” I curse as I grab it. Before I slide it back where I think it fell from, I check the label.
TAKE 1-2 TABLETS BY MOUTH
EVERY 4-6 HOURS AS NEEDED FOR PAIN
DROTABMEN 10 mg / 650 mg
GARCIA, MIGUEL
One refill before March 5, 2005
2005?
Why does he have a super old pill bottle?
He would have been like twenty-two years old when this was prescribed.
Has he lived in this condo since then?
Miguel doesn’t strike me as the person who would forget to throw away a used prescription bottle.
I hear the key in the lock and quickly toss it up in the cabinet and close the doors. I rush around trying to close as many of the other cabinets as possible when Miguel walks in, glistening with sweat, toothbrush for me in hand.
“Hey.” He greets me and I smile.
“Hi. I tried to put everything away where it goes but I might have gotten a few things mixed up.”
He chuckles. “That’s fine, thank you Laney. You’ll just have to be here to help me find things when I need them next time.”
I giggle. “I think that can be arranged.”
This flirty side of Miguel is so fucking fun. He seems lighter, and more willing to engage with me. But, also, for someone who I feel like I know really well I’m not sure I know him at all.
He holds out the toothbrush and I swipe it from his hand with a nervously chirped “thank you!”
He gives me a sideways glance and I simply turn away and walk to the bathroom.
“Freshen up and then we’ll drive to get your clothes for the bike ride.” He calls after me.
My brain goes into overdrive as soon as I close the door to the bathroom. Miguel makes me feel lots of things. Sensual, inspired, motivated. He’s a stranger, of course, but he’s the type of stranger who will help you out in a jam.
He’ll stack a bunch of bikes you accidentally knocked over.
He’ll insist you sleep in his hotel room instead of the backseat of a car.
He’ll diligently ensure you’re warmed up after a brush with hypothermia.
Miguel is the type of stranger who doesn’t feel like a stranger at all.
From the moment I met him there’s been this feeling like I’ve known him forever.
His calm, stoic demeanor called to my chaotic energy and after just a few short weeks of working together I can feel how I’ve learned some steadiness from him, and it feels like he’s learned some goofiness from me.
It’s like we were both waiting to find the other to learn how to share those hidden parts of ourselves.