“You can see the downtown lit up from here. That’s what, like an hour away?” she asks in her light singsong voice, pulling me back to reality.
I laugh. “With traffic, maybe a little longer, but we’re about twenty miles away. When we first moved here, I would come here and just sit on the edge and stare at the city. Part of me wanted to live there, but the other part didn’t. I was torn with what I wanted, because around the same time we were expanding our business, or at least talking about it, as well as, debating if we should live the poly lifestyle.”
“Why did you?”
“You know… I don’t really know. It just sort of happened. I don’t really want to get into the details because that would mean I’d have to talk about the girls at the beginning. I know they are in the past, but if the roles were reversed, even though I know you’re with me, with us, I would hate to hear about you being with other men. Even seeing dickface-”
“Rich? I’ve moved on from calling him dickface because I have no feelings for him anymore. No love, no hate. He is nobody. I feel like calling him dickface, still implies I have feelings.”
“I’d give you a cookie for all that, but I know you’re stuffed. I’ll still call him dickface because I have many emotions I still feel about him. Mostly hate. But a little gratitude, because if he wasn’t such a fuckup, you would have never left and never found us. So, there’s that.”
She smiles and walks over to me, looping her arms around my waist. I pick her up and her legs instinctively wrap around me. We walk over to the edge, and the closer we get, the more I can feel her tensing and clamping around me.
“Are you ok?”
“Umm, sooo, yea, not really. I don’t like edges of buildings.”
“Heights?”
“No. I’m mostly ok with heights, but the edges of building specifically. Like that wall barely comes to your knees, you could just tumble and flip over. I guess I’m so clumsy…”
She shudders in my arms. “I will never let you fall. Ever.” I take three steps away from the edge and press my lips to hers. She wraps her arms around my neck and the kiss deepens.
I fucking love kissing her sweet lips. They’re soft like clouds and so damn delectable. I could spend my days with her in bed with my lips pressed to hers or anywhere on her body, really.
She stays, wrapped in my arms, for an immeasurable amount of time as we just silently look out at the cityscape in the distance. We eventually head back to the car and she grabs my phone unexpectedly.
“What are you doing?” I question, chuckling.
“Sorry,” she holds my phone in her hand, staring at me, eyes wide.
“I don’t care you have it. I was simply wondering what you’re doing.”
“You don’t mind me looking at your phone?”
I chortle, “No. Why would I care? You’re welcome to touch anything of mine you want.” I toss a quick wink at her and watch as the blush tinges her cheeks. The guys and I find it hilarious that after everything we’ve done and been through together, she still blushes at the slightest hint of anything sexual. Do we say things on purpose to watch her blush? Yes. Yes, we do.
“Wow,” she whispers, then looks down at the phone and begins flipping through songs it looks like. I really don’t care what she’s doing. I have nothing to hide from her… well, feelings wise maybe, but I’m getting better, and that’s when I realize it probably wasn’t like that with dickface. The thought of him causes my body to tense and grip the steering wheel, but I take two deep breaths and try to let it go.
She looks over at me. “Sooo… since you played a song for me, I have one for you. I heard you playing Stanaj a week or so ago. I think it was the Sweat song and when I heard it and saw you working out, I nearly orgasmed and probably would have, but I had an early morning meeting. So that was the only thing that stopped me from jumping your bones right there.”
A smile spreads across my face because I remember the day she’s talking about. I was working out doing lunges and weight lifts, and when I looked in the mirror, I saw her by the door with a flush across all the parts of her body I could see before she darted. I meant to ask her about it later and then completely forgot.
“So anyway, I found the song and also started listening to his other stuff and really liked his music. And then there was this song that stuck out to me.” She presses play and Love Me, the acoustic version starts playing. I can feel her eyes on me and then when it gets to the second verse, I feel those words - her words - on so many levels. I grab her leg and can’t help but feel this overwhelming emotional connection to her. It’s like she sees me and understands me on a level I don’t know if I understand. She doesn’t ask for more than I can give and accepts it and meets me on that level. She only said she loved me the one time, and I think that was only because she was half asleep. She doesn’t push or try to overwhelm or even guilt trip. She simply accepts what I have to give and I love that.
When we get home, the lights in the house are off, except for the under-counter lighting in the kitchen.
“Are they gone?”
“I guess they went out and got their own dinner.”
“What do you want to do?” she asks in a cutesy voice, twirling her hair.
I smile, shaking my head from side to side. “Run.”
She stares at me for a moment, then squeals, bouncing up and down in her spot.
“I’m going to count to ten.”
