"I don't want to make you uncomfortable," I said.
When it came to divulging these things with my boss-roommate-sex-monster, I didn't know what was normal. I was aware the polite obliviousness thing was a sketchy way for men to pretend vaginas were only intended as their playgrounds but I hadn't realized some men didn't plug their ears and la-la-la it away until this conversation. I didn't know there were real men who cared.
"Not being able to make it better is uncomfortable for me," he replied.
I wrapped my arms around my torso and offered him a quick shoulder lift. "Maybe we could order pizza."
Ash winced, shoved his hands in his pockets. I didn't know if that was a reaction to pizza or something else.
"What kind of pizza?" he asked. "Thin crust, deep dish, brick oven?"
"Thin crust," I said. "If that works for you."
He made a sound of approval. "What are we putting on this thin crust pizza, love?"
The air-conditioning vent above us roared to life and I was presently dying of hypothermia on a summer day. Goodgod. Whenever a chill struck me, there was nothing I could do to get warm. I just had to wait it out. "Peppers, mushrooms, and pepperoni," I managed.
He offered another rumble, another nod. "And what are we drinking?"
I rubbed my palms up my arms. "What about beer? Something like Blue Moon."
"That's going to be a Trillium wheat in this neck of the woods but sure," he replied, swiping his phone to life. "Anything for dessert?"
I shook my head as goose bumps climbed over my chest, down my legs. "No, I won't need chocolate for a few more days."
"For fuck's sake, comehere," he said, thumbing away at his phone. "You're shivering." I went into his open arm and slumped against him. "Do you need…anything? We have over-the-counter pain relievers at home but I don't have anything else you might require."
I flattened my palms on his torso because he was so damn warm, like a human hot water bottle. "Not until later next week. This is just—it's just the prelude," I replied. "If it helps, please know the opening act is worse than the main event."
Ash finished with his phone, returned it to his pocket, and kissed my temple. "I've tossed this over in my head a few times and I don't think there's a way for me to tell you to stop apologizing without sounding like a tyrant but I'm saying it. I don't care if the entire show is difficult. In case you haven't noticed, I can't get enough of you and your body. And I'm sure you haven't forgotten how you looked after me when I needed it. I plan on returning the favor and you need to accept that. No apologies allowed. No pretending you're fine. No protecting my fragile male consciousness because you're worried I'm squeamish."
If the emotion filling my chest at this moment wasn't love, I didn't know what was. In fact, I didn't want to know. I didn't want to live out my days waiting for something better than the vast, glowy feeling cracking my chest open.
"Thank you," I said.
"Don't mention it." He ushered me into his office, pointing at the pair of seats in front of his desk. "Sit down."
After snatching his suit coat from its hanger on the backside of the door, he cloaked it over my shoulders. "Give me a minute to pack up."
I nodded, my hand clutched around the lapels to keep the coat from sliding off. I watched while Ash filed away his laptop and the report he'd fetched from the printer. He cast a hesitant glance at his desk, as if he couldn't decide whether to straighten the stray documents or take another project home with him. Eventually, he turned his wrist and blinked down at his watch, saying, "Our car will be here in five."
"We don't have to take a car," I replied. "I can walk. Or take the subway. Really."
Ignoring this protest, Ash tipped his chin toward my desk. "I'm going to grab your purse and log you out of your computer. Is there anything else you'd like me to do?"
I pushed to my feet, saying, "I have systems. Don't foul any of that up for me."
I swatted him away from my things and made quick work of closing out. Once I was finished, I followed him out of the suite and into the elevator. When he held his arms open to me, I paused, first shrugging out of his suit coat before nestling up against him.
"Did you warm up?"
I shook my head. "I don't want to walk through the lobby looking like tonight's A-block on the evening news. You know what I mean. There's always some tragedy porn in that segment. A dead-eyed woman swallowed whole by an oversized coat or blanket. People on their front lawn in pajamas. Someone who lost their shoes in an accident of some type. That sort of thing."
"You don't have dead eyes," he said.
"You're kind." I leaned my head against his bicep. "And tolerant."
His scruffy chin scraped over my cheek. "No. Neither."
