Chapter 39
It wasn’t a delivery morning, so I didn’t have to wake up early, but my eyes popped open anyway at six thirty.
Elijah’s arm rested heavily across my stomach.
I smiled at the weight of it, and then the smile slipped off my face.
We were leaving today. I didn’t want to.
He looked peaceful next to me. I wanted him to be a regular in my bed.
“Are you watching me sleep?” he asked, his voice scratchy.
“Maybe,” I said, tracing his jaw with my finger. His scruff had grown longer than he normally let it, and it scratched me.
We could do long distance for a little while. He could come on the weekends. I could go to him sometimes, maybe on the slow days during the week.
“Do you always wake up this early?” he asked. “You never sleep in?”
“My body hates me.”
“Your body is perfect,” he said.
“You’re right, it’s my brain that actually hates me.”
He placed a kiss on my forehead. His lips were sleep-warm and soft. His arm moved from my waist to my head, where he cocooned me against his chest. I nuzzled into him.
“You can just stay in my bed forever,” I said. “Be here when I need you.”
He chuckled. “You want me to live in your bed?”
“I’ll feed you,” I said. “And I’ll allow you to get up and use the bathroom when you need to and bathe.”
“How gracious of you,” he said, a smile in his voice.
“It really is.”
He squeezed my side. I grabbed his ass.
He ran a hand down my face in a joking manner. “Shhh. Go back to sleep. It’s too early to be awake.”
I laughed but closed my eyes and pressed my body as close to his as I possibly could. Between us, there was some very hard evidence that he didn’t actually want me to go back to sleep. Now his hand was on my ass, and he was pulling me tightly against him.
I hummed out a happy noise. I loved this. I loved being held and waking up to someone. I loved his warm body against mine and the way it relaxed me. I loved that I could feel his smile against my cheek.
I was almost certain that I loved all this because I loved him.
We sat in my car in front of my mom’s house, both unwilling to admit that the weekend was over and we had to get back to our separate lives.
At least I was unwilling to admit that. I wasn’t sure why he wasn’t getting out of my car.
His car sat on the curb, ready to take him away.
One of the plants from my apartment sat in my cupholder, the others in the back seat.
I wasn’t going to let them wither away this time.
“I’ve never been to your place,” I said after a few minutes of silence.
“No, you haven’t,” he responded quickly. “You should come over. Tonight?”
I reached over and squeezed his hand. “How about tomorrow night? I don’t want my mom to think I’m ditching her again so soon.”
He nodded. “Tomorrow night.” He brought my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles. “I had a good time this weekend.”
“Which part did you like better? The working in my restaurant or the sex? Be honest.” I smiled at him.
He pretended to think. “So hard to choose.” He turned in his seat to face me more fully. “No, but really, I enjoyed working with you at the restaurant. You probably think it was a chore for me, but it wasn’t. It reminded me of college.”
“Did you wait tables in college?”
“I did.”
“I bet you got so many tips.”
“Is this a commentary on my prettiness again?”
“It is.”
“Did you work in college?”
“I did. At a photo-processing place.”
“Really?”
“No, I just thought it would be funny if you were a server and I did something related to photography. But I really didn’t.”
“Smartass.”
“Are you stealing my insults?”
“I am.” He still held my hand in his and was running his thumb over my knuckles. “Where did you really work?”
“I worked at this juice place, selling super-expensive juice to people who ate very little else,” I said.
“How very Los Angeles of you.”
“Are we stalling?” I asked.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said with a smirk.
I sighed and looked at the house. I really needed to get in there. It was already four in the afternoon. Tara had checked on my mom this morning, but she hadn’t had anyone with her for any amount of consecutive hours since the day before with Lucy.
I must’ve stared at the house too long because Elijah said, “My house is still on the table for tonight.”
I scrunched my nose and then grabbed the plant from the cupholder and pulled on the door handle. Elijah followed me to the trunk, where he lifted out his suitcase. I took my toiletries bag, then collected the box of plants from the back seat, wedging the cupholder one in between the others.
“Let me carry that for you,” he said as I shut the trunk.
“I think I’ve got it,” I said.
“Will you give me an excuse to walk you to the door, please?” he said.
“You need an excuse?”
He left his suitcase by the back wheel of my car and took the box from me. I tucked my hand into the crook of his elbow.
“My hero.”
We walked to the porch and then faced each other. I reclaimed the box with a smile, moving it to my hip. I pushed onto my toes to touch my lips to his.
“See you tomorrow,” he said.
“Thanks for coming with me this weekend.”
“I’ll put together some design ideas for the restaurant tonight. I don’t know if they’ll be any good. I’m pretty rusty.”
“I’m sure they’ll be great. Thank you.”
“Of course.”
I kissed him again, and as I did, the front door swung open. It surprised me so much that I gasped. I wasn’t used to my mom being mobile enough to open the door on her own. But she stood there, scooter under her knee, hand on the knob.
“You’re home,” she said.
“I am.”
“And with your boy toy.”
“Mom,” I chastised. “You know Elijah’s name.”
“I got the check from the insurance company for my new car.”
“That’s great,” I said. “We’ll have to start looking.”
“Also, I don’t feel good.” She did look a little pale.
“Okay, I’ll be right in.”
She shut the door without another word.
“Sorry,” I said. “She heard it once and now won’t forget it.” Why had Tara called him boy toy, and in front of my mother, of all people?
“It’s fine,” he said, his tone different, but not one I could read. It was probably the I don’t like this woman’s mother and I’m not sure what to do about that tone. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Okay.”
I watched him retrieve his suitcase, put it into the trunk, and get in his car. Then he drove away without another acknowledgment.
“What did you want, Sutton? A fireworks show?” I muttered. The man had sat in my parked car with me for close to thirty minutes. We didn’t need to also have a thirty-minute porch goodbye. Especially not after my mother’s appearance.
My phone buzzed in my purse, and I dug it out, for a split second thinking it was going to be Elijah saying goodbye again, in a normal tone. One that didn’t make me analyze things. It wasn’t. It was Raya.
I swiped to answer. “Hi.”
“Hey,” she said. “Did you take some mail that was on the desk?”
“Oh, shit. I did. I wanted to take some things off your plate.” But I had forgotten to look at them again.
“Things you had absolutely no idea what they were?”
“They seemed more important than junk mail but less important than bills.”
“Well, one of those things was tickets to an invite-only vendors’ market I was going to tomorrow.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I’ll overnight them.”
“You thought I was neglecting the tasks on the desk, didn’t you?”
“I mean…” That was what I’d thought, wasn’t it? Why else would I take the mail without properly looking at it? The mail had been my chore in the past, and I obviously thought she wasn’t handling it right. “I just thought maybe you were overwhelmed.”
“I am overwhelmed, Sutton, but I’m doing a damn good job.”
“I agree.”
“But you think you’d be doing it better.”
“Where is this coming from?”
“From you. I spent two hours reorganizing the desk. I had a system, and you just sweep in here and don’t even bother to ask me what it is? Just assumed nothing in the office had been touched since you left? Way to trust me.”
“I’m sorry, Raya. You’re right, I’m a shit business partner and I’ve been a shit friend.”
“Ugh,” she said. “Don’t. Just, just send the tickets. I’ll talk to you later.” With those words, she disconnected the call.
I stood there for several minutes, composing myself, then opened the door and walked inside. My mom had wheeled herself back to the couch.
“Hey, Mom, I have to run to the shipping store real fast.”
“Seriously?” she said. “I just told you I’m not feeling well.”
“I know. What can I do for you? And can I do it when I get back?”
“I need a refill on a medication and some good food in this house.”
“Great, I can do both of those things while I’m out.” I tossed my toiletries bag onto the bed in my room, put the box of plants on the chair, and went to the kitchen. “Which med, Mom?”
“The empty one, obviously.”
I picked up each bottle and shook. “They all have pills in them.”
“By the toaster,” she called.
I raised the empty bottle in the air to show her I had found it, shoved it in my purse, and left.
Only two people stood in line at the shipping place in front of me. I studied the wall organizer of envelope options to my right until I found the flat-rate express one. I dug a pen out of my purse and filled out the front of the envelope with the shipping and return addresses.
“You ready?” I heard and looked up. I had been so focused on my task that I hadn’t realized it was my turn.
“That was fast,” I said, stepping up to the counter.
“She was a drop-off only.” The woman nodded toward the lady leaving the shop.
“Right. I need to send this.” I placed the envelope in front of her.
She picked it up and turned it over, noting that it wasn’t sealed.
“Oh! With something in it, of course.” I opened my purse, which suddenly felt too big.
And too full of stuff. I knew I had shoved those envelopes in here from the office.
My purse was normally very clean and organized.
But after the weekend away and … I stopped.
The cloth napkin from the back office, the one Elijah had used to clean himself up with after we’d fooled around, was still in there.
And just past that, the envelope from the vendor’s market.
I pulled it out, and smeared across the side was …
My cheeks went hot.
“What is that?” the lady asked.
“Um … just some primer. Makeup primer. For my face,” I clarified unnecessarily. “It must’ve spilled.”
“Must’ve,” she replied.
I opened the envelope, dug out the tickets, which thankfully seemed unscathed, and tucked them into their new home.
“Do you have a trash?” I asked, holding up the cum-smeared envelope.
The lady reached for it.
“No,” I said, yanking it back. “I’ll just take care of it when I get home.” I shoved it back into my purse. This was why organization was good for everyone.
“O-kay,” the lady said. “Just this then? Anything else for the envelope?”
“Nope, just that. Can you guarantee delivery tomorrow?”
“Yes.” She entered some things into her computer while I got out my credit card and tried to get my face back to its normal temperature.
After that humiliating experience, I sat in my car and sent a text: You must dispose of your own cum in the future.
My phone buzzed in my hands with an incoming call, and I laughed and answered, “You don’t want to know about the most embarrassing experience I just had with the evidence of our office hookup.”
“Honey bunny,” the voice on the other end said, and my chest went cold.
“Dad.”