Chapter 15
STELLA
I know exactly what he’s saying. And I’m not opposed to it. I’ve had more fun today than I’ve had in… crap, it has to be years. I don’t think I’ve ever had this much fun with a man, even when I first started seeing Cole.
“Now who’s greedy?” I tease him.
“I won’t deny it. Hey, you think my clothes are dry? I don’t really want to answer the door to the pizza delivery guy wearing a robe.”
“They probably are.”
He sets his beer on the coffee table and waves me down when I start to get up. “I can get them.”
He jogs up the stairs.
This has been… crazy.
I let my head fall back onto the couch cushion.
I knew I’d end up naked with him. I’m so attracted to him. But the more time I spend with him, the more I like him: his personality, his sense of humour, his desire to improve himself. And what appears to be completely non-toxic masculinity.
The naked times were phenomenal. The first time was fast, sure, but I was okay with that because I was pretty worked up, too. But after that… holy hotness, I’ve never felt so worshipped and cared for. I’m getting that flippy feeling in my belly all over again just remembering it.
I would not say no to more of that.
The doorbell rings just as Jayden gets back downstairs. I get out plates and cutlery and set the dining table while he answers the door. When we sit, I push aside my hot pink dendrobium so it’s out of the way.
“Aren’t those hard to grow?” Jayden asks as we dish out food onto our plates.
“They can be. That’s why I took a course. I have a whole bunch more upstairs in the spare bedroom.”
“It’s pretty.”
“I love them. There’s a nursery in West Van that I like to go to.” I make a face. “I have to control myself or I’d fill this whole place with them.”
“I’m so hungry, I could eat that orchid.”
I crack up. “Don’t do it! Here, have some salad. It’s almost the same.”
He laughs, too. “Yeah, it’s green.”
“It’s a healthy salad, though. Chicken, salami, feta cheese… protein, right?”
“Right.” He piles salad onto his plate.
We talk about anything and everything while we eat. Talking to him is easy.
After dinner, I get out food for Betty. “Will Frank eat some of this?” I ask Jayden. “I assume it’s dinner time for him, too.”
“What is it?” He comes over to inspect the kibble.
“I also have this fresh food.”
“I don’t like changing his diet suddenly. But I don’t want him to starve.”
“I know.”
“Let’s give him some of the kibble.”
I pull out a bowl and pour some dog food into it. Then we separate them while they eat. Frank gobbles down the kibble, so that’s good.
“Hopefully, he doesn’t puke later,” Jayden says, stroking his dog’s back.
“Yeah, we only want imaginary dog vomit.”
He grins. “Right.”
I pull a plush squirrel from the basket of dog toys in the corner and give it a squeak. Both dogs are instantly in front of me. I grab another toy and sit on the floor to play with them, tugging the toy. Frank’s face is so funny, his bottom teeth protruding as he grips the toy. He growls adorably.
Betty wants the same toy, so I pull it and hold it in front of her mouth. She chomps down and I laugh with delight as they start playing with each other, planting their front paws into the rug, growling at each other, throwing their head side to side in an effort to steal the toy.
Jayden is smiling too, watching them.
They abandon the toy and just play with each other, Betty rolling onto her back, Frank nuzzling her face. So cute!
“I love that they love each other,” I say, rising from the floor. I sit next to Jayden on the couch to watch them.
“Yeah, same.” He slides an arm around me and pulls me against him. “Should I get going?”
I peer up at him. “Do you have to?”
“No.” Our eyes meet. “We have an optional practice in the morning.”
“What time?”
“Eleven. But it’s optional.”
“But you’ll be there.”
“Are you asking me or telling me?”
“Hey. You said you want to do better this year. Skipping a practice because of a woman isn’t the way to do that.”
“But what a woman.”
I grin. “I know, but still.”
He laughs. “You’re right. I do want to go. But that’s not until tomorrow morning.” He brushes his lips over my temple.
“We could watch a movie?”
“Sure. D’you think we can agree on something?”
I give him a sideways look as I reach for the remote control for the TV. “Why do you assume we want to watch different things?”
“That was stupid of me,” he says gravely. “I apologize.”
He was right. We can’t agree on a movie.
We consider new releases, older movies, even foreign films. We argue, but we’re both laughing as his objections to the movies I like get more and more ridiculous. “I hate Charlize Theron,” he says.
“How can you hate Charlize Theron? She’s gorgeous and a great actor.”
When I suggest a recent Oscar nomination, he says, “That looks depressing.” Then, “I hate subtitles. I have to pay attention.”
“Why are we watching a movie if you’re not going to pay attention?”
“Sometimes, my mind wanders. Or my hands.”
Laughter wells up inside me. My next suggestion is rejected because he heard the dog dies and he can’t watch that. “I give up. Let’s watch a hockey game.”
“Okay!”
There are several to choose from. Since it’s still early on the west coast, we watch part of a Boston versus Florida game, then Winnipeg in Seattle.
Jayden’s hands do wander as we watch, but in a sweet way: running through my hair, tracing up and down my arm, holding my hand.
I pull the soft throw blanket on the back of the couch over us as I snuggle into him.
The dogs have tired out and are crashed on the rug, side by side.
Frank is on his back, snoring. With the lights in the kitchen and dining room off, the lamps and the TV give off a muted glow in the room.
This is nice.
It’s not that I’m opposed to relationships. I just don’t need one. I don’t need to seek out men like my mom does. I have everything I need. My job, my condo, my friends. My dog. And if I want sex… well, that’s not hard to find. As I have seen this weekend.
But this companionship—complaining about the reffing while watching a hockey game, watching our dogs play, nestled in against his big, warm body on the couch—it’s nice.
When the game is over, Jayden removes his arms from around me to do a full-body stretch. His shirt lifts and reveal his stomach, just where a trail of dark hair runs down under his pants. I want to kiss him there.
He turns to me and touches my face, leaning in to kiss me. “That was fun.”
“It was.”
He kisses me again, this time longer, his tongue licking inside my mouth. My bones melt and a hot need swirls in my belly. Again.
“I don’t want to leave you,” he murmurs against my lips.
“The feeling is mutual.” We kiss again. “But go.”
Somehow, he makes it out of my home. When I close and lock the door behind him, I’m almost too weak to walk. Something feels different. And it’s scary.
Please don’t let me fall in love.