“I love cooking.”
“Good,” he says, patting my bottom. “Me too. Come on. Let me show you the rest of the house. Then we can cook together.”
I nod and follow him through a very large open living or family room with a big sectional sofa, chairs, coffee table, and a large television mounted above a sleek, black fireplace. This room feels very Keeton-esque, if there’s such a thing. I look left at large windows and walk toward them. “You’ve got a pool?”
“Yeah,” he chuckles. “I couldn’t stop adding shit to the design.”
“You designed this?” I say, shocked. But, why would I be shocked? He’s a designer, of motorcycles, sure, but I take it, from this, that he has many talents. I blush thinking of my own double entendre.
“I did, but after I drew out my rough plan, I handed it over to a professional.”
“Oh, it’s amazing, Keeton.”
“Come on, there’s lots more to see.”
And there was. There were three large bedrooms on the main level along with a huge master bedroom. When we stepped into the room, I felt a chill down my spine. This is it. This is his bedroom. I should be more nervous than I am since I’ve done nothing but picture Keeton is wearing only a smile since the second I met him. Hell, I’ve never wanted to lick someone so much in my entire life which is really weird because, dang it, he’s not an ice cream cone. I can’t explain the thoughts I’ve got rolling around in my head––thoughts related to all of the things I want to do with him.
“Here’s the master bathroom.”
Luckily, he’s redirected my thoughts to his equally impressive bathroom and his bathtub––a bathtub so big and so deep I could cry. And it’s got jets! I could picture myself soaking in that thing for hours, or perhaps the two of us in there together. I do my best to shake the thought of Keeton nakedandwet and follow him upstairs to a large open loft space that he’s turned into an office and workout room. On one end is an office setup with a drafting table, desk and computer, filing cabinets, and a large printer. On the other end is every weight machine I’ve ever seen at the Y. Well, not every weight machine, but he’s got at least six different pieces of equipment plus a stationary bike and treadmill. No wonder he’s in such good shape. There’s a large television mounted to the wall in this room as well. It’s in the perfect spot. It can be seen when he’s in the office and when he’s working out.
Next, we head to the basement to what he calls the game room. I’d call it the family room times ten. There’s another large seating area with another large sectional and a television but there’s also an area with a pool table, foosball table, a pinball machine, a poker table, juke box, and an old-time video game machine. “Is that a Pac-Man machine?”
“It is, but you can actually choose between Pac-Man, Centipede, Frogger, Donkey Kong, Space Invaders, and Dig Dug.”
“Dig Dug?” I practically shout. “I loved Dig Dug.”
“You want to play?”
I smile wide. “Later. Show me the rest of the place.”
“There’s another bedroom down here and a full bath.”
Wow. This place is huge. We step through the french doors to a large patio area that wraps around the pool.
“Is that a hot tub?”
“Yep. Wanna take a dip?” He doesn’t laugh so I think he’s serious.
“Maybe later.” Not really. I didn’t bring a swimsuit so that’s a no.
Back inside, he leads me upstairs to the kitchen. “Let’s get cookin’, good lookin’, he says, pulling out a package of meat from the fridge.
“How can I help?”
“You wanna make the salad?”
“Okay.”
Come on over here. Everything is in the fridge. You choose what you want in it. I’ll eat anything, so you pick.”
As I grab lettuce, carrots, green pepper, tomatoes, and celery out of his huge sub-zero refrigerator, Keeton turns on music. It’s coming from speakers mounted inside the walls. “Oh, I love this song.” He’s turned on some 70s ballad that I remember my dad listening to a lot.
“Little River Band,” he mumbles.
“My dad used to listen to them. I like this era of music.”
Leaning over to me, he kisses the top of my head, “Good. I’m glad.”
