Chapter 22
SOSIE
The cold stone in the bathroom seeps through my dress where I sit propped up in front of the mirror. The lights aren’t Hollywood-style, but they might be bright enough for the space station to receive a signal in Morse code.
I continue to brush my teeth as I blink a few times and angle toward Keats instead of being blinded.
Keats is much more entertaining to watch anyway.
It’s fascinating how he performs a perfect circular motion on each tooth before moving to the next, as if he learned how to clean his teeth from a dentist in a YouTube video.
Catching me staring, he nudges my knee and rolls his eyes.
“What?” comes out muffled through the mouth full of foamy paste.
I shrug, enjoying the performance that would have made a great afternoon special for kids after they got home from school.
Am I being too hard? Nah. I’m just amazed that he’s still perfect in my eyes even when he does mundane things.
He scrunches his face and sticks his tongue out of the corner of his mouth, causing white foam to dribble down his chin.
Bending over the sink, he spits, then rinses with water from his hand, washing away the paste on his skin.
Experiencing him being goofy feels like we’ve reached a new level of trust. His guard is down, and our night is finally carefree from our other troubles.
At least until tomorrow, that is. But those can be handled in the daylight.
I’ll take these tonight and spin them into the waking hours.
With my toothbrush still shoved in my mouth, I can only imagine I’m looking as attractive as ever.
Cleaning isn’t something I typically do with witnesses around, but I love how fun and just normal this feels with him.
Coming to the side of me, he leans over me and kisses the top of my head as if he is feeling the same, and asks, “You just going to stare at me all night?”
Giggling, I move my hand over my mouth just in case I end up spewing, too.
I lean forward and spit out the paste. “What can I say?” I give a little shrug.
“It’s a nice view.” I scoop water into my hand and sip to rinse.
When I sit back up, he hands me a hand towel to wipe my mouth.
It’s not lost on me that he wipes his right after like we’re a couple who share towels and everything else.
Or maybe he doesn’t want to create more laundry than necessary.
I prefer the former to the latter, though.
He lifts me from the counter and kisses my lips before he sets me on my feet again.
The toll had to be paid, and I’m happy to pay it.
“So,” I say, walking back into the bedroom like I own the place.
This is what happens when I don’t have any walls to hold up around me.
I become invincible. Twirling to watch my skirt float in the air around my legs, I stop and ask, “Do you have anything for me to sleep in? Or do you want me naked?”
“I, um, naked . . .” He scrapes his teeth across his bottom lip under widened eyes that tell me everything I need to know regarding his wishes.
It was a cruel setup of a question, but his reaction was worth the risk of asking. I lift his jaw off the floor while laughing. “I’m teasing. I don’t need anything to wear.” I burst out laughing again. “Kidding. Kidding. A T-shirt works if you have something for me.”
“I’m starting to question how many drinks you had tonight.
” He crosses the room with a big smirk on his face.
“Not that I don’t appreciate the humor, but the teasing only embedded images of you naked that I can’t seem to erase.
” I watch him shift his legs right before he disappears into the closet.
“I don’t have anything that’s not going to swallow you whole. ”
“Whatever will work.”
He returns, but I can’t say he managed the prominent situation in his pajama pants, which he’s changed into. “I have this, though.” He tosses me the shirt.
It hits me in the face since I’ve been caught off guard.
Why would I care about a tee when he’s walking around half naked now?
Those shoulders of his aren’t just broad, they’re muscular with divots between the muscles.
His arms are defined, with good bicep strength.
But it’s those abs of his—good Lord—carved like a Romanesque statue that have me ogling his build as I’ve never seen a man before.
It’s definitely been too long since I’ve seen him.
The shirt is plucked away. Analyzing my face for damage, he asks, “Are you okay? Sorry. I didn’t mean to . . . I thought you’d catch it.”
I can’t exactly tell him why I was so distracted, so I stammer and shift on my feet. “It’s fine. I’m okay. You said you have something. What?”
“Yeah.” He hands me the shirt. “I wouldn’t mind seeing you in this one.”
Unfolding it, I hold it up in front of me and grin.
I head back to the bathroom, briefly glancing over my shoulder.
“I’ll be right back.” I don’t bother to shut the door.
I know he’s not going to peek, and closing off our connection is the last thing I want to do.
I slip my dress off and unclasp my strapless bra, so happy to finally be free of the contraption.
I hang both items on a towel hook, then pull the shirt he gave me over my head.
I never turned on the bright lights, but there’s some sneaking in from the bedroom to see enough of myself in the mirror. I move closer to it and pull my ponytail free from the collar. With the shoelace barely hanging on, I take a moment to tighten it before returning to Keats.
He stands at the end of the bed, struggling to restrain the smile that wants to crease his lips. I don’t bother holding back the giggle that erupts and spin for him. “Do you like?”
“I love. You look amazing.”
I can’t say I’d call this look amazing, but that I am in his eyes is all I need.
As I look down at the City Events Catering Co.
logo, who knew seeing me in an old, stained catering tee would bring him so much pleasure?
“Was this shirt chosen for any particular reason?” I could guess, but I’d rather hear him explain.
“It’s one of the smallest tees I own, and it reminds me of meeting you.”
Tapping one faded stain on the cotton under the logo pressed to my chest, I ask, “Is it the food stains? I admit I’m a messy eater.” I crack a smirk.
He chuckles. “No, I was wearing that tee under my dress shirt the night I met you.” His own grin takes over his handsome face. “It had fewer stains back then.”
Never missing an opportunity to make me feel like the star of his very own show, I ask, “Do you always say the right thing?”
“Is that the right thing to say?” He laughs. “And no. But you always give me more credit than I deserve.”
“It’s deserved.” I scan the mattress between us, then work my gaze back to him. “Which side are you taking?”
“I was waiting to ask you the same.”
“I’m good with either.” Since I’m already on one side, I claim it by folding down the sheet and blanket.
I wasn’t cold standing in a thin dress, but now that I’m so close to lying in his arms again, I’m freezing and speed up the process by slipping my legs under the covers and pulling them up to my neck.
“I liked your old apartment, but I must admit, this place is quite the upgrade. I’m proud of you. ”
He strips down to his boxer briefs, then climbs in on the other side and moves to the center.
With his eyes set on mine, I see the boyish charm return to his expression—a gentler grin and eyes that ease at the corners.
Even his hair has flopped forward over his forehead.
“I learned not to concern myself with how others see me. It only got in the way of progress.” Leaning forward, he kisses me before falling back on the bed.
“But that means a lot to hear somebody say that to me.” Glancing back at me, he adds, “Thank you.”
I hadn’t realized until he said it that I could relate.
I’ve seen pride in my dad’s eyes, but only when things are going according to plan—never for anything I accomplished on my own, of my own choosing.
Keeping the invasive thoughts of negativity at bay has been easy with Keats.
I’ve been living like I’m not a Stansbury.
The change has been welcomed, so I won’t let my thoughts ruin it now.
The motion is quick—his arm swooping me against him—before I can let out a squeal. A trail of kisses is peppered across my shoulder, the hardness of his chest pressed to my back. Strong arms wrap around me like I’m something precious to protect, leaving only heat between us. That and his erection.
He’s not making any moves on me to remedy the situation, but he sure knows how to tempt me. I can’t disagree. We should be taking it slow. A lot has happened, and there’s even more to process. We’ll have time to reconnect physically, maybe more organically than on a night when I asked to stay.
Anyway, we need sleep. I do for sure. Tomorrow is a big day.
Leaving everything you’ve known in life behind is going to take a lot of energy.
Releasing a big yawn, I snuggle back into him even more and sigh in utter contentment.
He kisses the back of my neck, and although things were heating up earlier, I’m enjoying the slower pace. I’m enjoying him.
I turn my head to catch his gaze. “Good night.”
He kisses me gently and replies, “Good night.”