After a leisurely breakfast, Nantes had to go into work for a couple of hours for some appointments he had, so I’ve been left to sit with my thoughts all day.
I hear the television come on in the living room and rise to go check it out. When I enter the room, Nantes is standing, watching the news deliver a story about a horrid car crash on the freeway heading back to Chicago.
“Hey.”
He turns and smiles. “Hey. Good day?”
“Very good day.” I walk over to him and, filled with hope that touching him is okay, I pull him into my arms.
He sinks into me, laying his head on my shoulder, his warm breath fanning my neck. After a few moments, he chuckles. “God, I think I’m touch starved. You wouldn’t think it with a family like mine.”
Rubbing his back, I hold him a little tighter. “Different kind of touch, right?”
“Right.” He slides his hands down my back. “It feels good.”
“It does.”
When he backs up a little, I keep my hold on him, bending my head slightly to taste his lips again. He makes a soft moaning sound as we kiss. I wasn’t trying to make it sexual, but tell that to my dick.
“Fuck, you turn me on,” I whisper against his lips.
“You didn’t change your mind while I was gone?”
I shake my head. “No.”
He nods, but I can still see the insecurity in his eyes.
“What should we do tonight?” I ask.
Nantes shrugs. “We could watch a movie. We could go out again.”
I groan. “No. One night like that is enough for me for the next year.”
He chuckles. “I agree. I could whip up a quick dinner, then, and we can just hang out.”
“I can help.”
Nantes gazes into my eyes, and in his, I see so many unspoken words. I want to ask him what’s on his mind, but maybe it’s better if I don’t. It’ll just make things harder when I have to leave.
“I took the next couple of days off.”
“Awesome. I rescheduled all my patients too. I’m free until Monday, at least.”
“Are you going back to Chicago then?”
“I was planning to stay, if that’s okay?”
“Yeah, of course. I’m glad.” He steps back enough that I have to let him go. “I can make up a quick marinara sauce, and I think I have some ravioli in the freezer.”
I mock gasp. “Frozen ravioli from a Benedetti?”
He chuckles. “Nonna and my mom made them.”
“Ah, that makes more sense. Sounds good to me.”
“Okay, I’ll just change real quick.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
