The pair of jeans I grabbed for him to borrow lie disregarded on the bathroom floor. I grab them, along with his shirt, and take them into the bedroom with me. I quickly shove my jeans back into the closet but hang onto the shirt.
I climb into the bed, holding Luc’s shirt tightly. He might think I’m weird if he saw me like this, taking in the scent of his shirt, but I don’t care. Maybe sometime later tonight, he’ll do the same to my sweater, clinging onto it as he goes to bed, sniffing it until it feels like I’m there with him. The idea is probably too good to be true, but it’s definitely nice to imagine.
I feel calm here, Luc’s scent filling my nostrils and a warm blanket covering me, but I can’t let it lull me to sleep. I need to stay awake for his message. I don’t know how long his walk home is; it’s yet another thing I forgot to ask. What’s wrong with me? I’m acting like a teenager in love, neglecting to ask all the important questions.
I’m not sure how much time passes, lying here under the blanket, accompanied by Luc’s shirt. At some point, I’m no longer afraid I’ll fall asleep. The thunderstorm seems to be coming closer, based on the bright flashes that become more frequent and the thunderclaps that follow each other morequickly. My mind starts to spin. What if something happens to Luc? Will he get stuck in the storm? Or what if he forgets to message me? What will I do then?
I don’t know where Luc and his father live, so I wouldn’t even know where to start searching for him. My best chance would be going to the cake shop to see if there’s a phone number displayed somewhere on the window. If there is, at least I’ll be able to call Luc’s dad and hopefully discover the address. That would be a strange way of meeting his father for sure, but desperate times call for desperate measures, right?
It’d be complicated and take a lot of time I won’t have in that situation, though, considering that Luc might be in danger. Also, speaking of which, how long should I wait? An hour? Two hours? I have no idea, and it makes me feel like an idiot.
I press my face into Luc’s shirt. I just need him to be okay. That’s all. If he sends me a text message, I can relax and sleep, and then we can meet again tomorrow. I can’t wait. Everything will be alright as long as that thunderstorm stays away, as long as no one hurts my baby and he makes it home safe.
After ten more minutes, my phone finally buzzes. Please, let it be him, I think to myself. I jump up to grab it and let out a deep sigh of relief when I see that Luc has messaged me.
Luc: I’m home.
“Thank God,” I mutter under my breath.
Cody: Good, I was worried. Did you notice the thunderstorm?
Luc: Yes, I heard it come closer, but I made it home in time.
Cody: I’m happy to hear that. I was afraid to go to sleep, but I will now. See you tomorrow, right?
Luc: Definitely. Good night,mon chéri.
I let out a contented sigh, put my phone down, turn off the light on the end table beside me, and snuggle up with Luc’s shirt.Lying here with his scent close by, almost feels like the real deal. If I try hard enough, I can pretend.
At least we had some moments of intimacy today. First when I hugged him, then when he sat close to me on the couch, then when he kissed me on the cheek before leaving. Lying in bed with his shirt pulled up to my nose is not the same thing, but it’s good enough for now.Maybe tomorrow I can allow myself to touch him again. For now, the most important thing is that Luc is safe. He arrived home, texted me, and called me “mon chéri.” He also apologized and is really trying to prove himself. I must say, things are really looking up.
Chapter 21: Luc
My mind’s made up; I’m going to take a risk. I need things between me and Cody back to how they were before I ruined it, and I need it soon. Maybe I could have been patient if he didn’t look at me the way he does, like he still wants me and is desperately trying to fight it. If only he’d stop resisting... but maybe I know how to make him. I’ll give him something I know he can’t say no to, and I have just the thing.
The following day after work, I make a brief stop at my father’s house before walking to Cody’s. I change into a long raincoat, and it’s not for the reason you’d expect. This choice of clothes has nothing to do with me getting soaked last night; it’s not even raining today. No, this coat is part of a surprise for Cody, because it’s more about what I’m wearing underneath—or rather, what I’m not. I’m not completely naked, but I have a feeling this will get his attention.
I can’t wait to see how he responds. It’ll be great if it works the way I want it to. Of course, there’s a possibility he won’t like it, but I have to try. Certain things are worth taking a chance on.
As I make my way over, the streets are busy, as could be expected. There’s always liveliness in a capital city such as this one. I try my best to avoid bumping into anyone or making eye contact with people, because my current circumstances make me feel extra vulnerable, more exposed.
By the time I reach his street, my palms are damp and my heart is racing, but I force myself forward anyway. To my relief, I reach Cody’s house without any interruptions. When he opens the door and sees me, his eyes immediately fall on my long black coat. It’s not surprising—it’s very noticeable. It belongs to my dad, so it’s pretty big, long, and very different from what I usually wear.
“A raincoat,” he says, eying my outfit and nodding. “Smart.”
I give him a mysterious smile. “Maybe, but it’s not really about the raincoat. Can I come in? I have a surprise for you.”
He nods, unsuspecting, and steps aside, letting me walk past him and closing the door behind us. I put the lemon cake I brought on the dinner table, hoping he won’t want it just yet. I’m far too excited to wait, eager to show him what I have for him.
Luckily, once he joins me in the living room, he ignores the cake and keeps his eyes on me. That’s good. I need them to stay exactly where they are.
Slowly, I start taking off the raincoat, unzipping it and pulling it down until it falls on the floor. I stare at him, awaiting his response. Whether or not this will work depends on his self-control. I can only hope it’s not as strong as his desire for me.
Once I’ve removed the coat, Cody’s eyes fall and his lips part—a good sign. I’m wearing the sweater he loaned me yesterday... and nothing else.
“You’re wearing my sweater,” he says. The way he visibly swallows tells me this is getting to him. “And no pants.”
“Yes,” I reply, taking a step toward him. But that’s not close to all; I have yet to tell him the best part. “And guess what?” I whisper seductively. “I’m also not wearing any underwear.”
