In my past relationships with men, whenever things headed toward serious, I would look for reasons to bail. And messy eater was on that list. As were snores too loud, spends too much, is too stingy, works out too much, works out too little, too into art, and not into art enough.
It was a veritable Goldilocks and the bears. If she was trying to date the bears.
But Beau gets a pass. And not just because these ribs are so messy that I also got sauce all over me, so it would be unfair to hold it against him. He gets a pass because there’s something about him I can’t, or don’t want to, dismiss. Even as my brain tells me to pull away.
Meal accomplished, Beau leads me back to the car. Once we get to the house, Beau pulls me aside before we leave the garage.
“What’s up?” I ask.
“I just wanted to get a kiss before we go in there and you get weird.”
“It’s perfectly natural to get weird with your parents right across the hall and frankly, it’s weird thatyoudon’t care mo...”
Beau leans in for the kiss before I can finish the familiar argument. I enthusiastically participate, sinking into him, my body melting as he heats me from the inside out.
His arms tighten to accommodate the extra weight, both of our bodies automatically shifting to curl around each other like two tree trunks that are entwined around each other after decades growing next to each other.
Just as the kiss gets good, Beau stops it. The heat dries up in an instant, Beau taking it with him when he pulls away. I make a sound of disappointment.
“If you want to see some action in the back of this truck again, we can do it.” Beau’s hand is already reaching back to open his door again.
“Oh boy, I am not drunk enough for that.” It was very enjoyable last time, but without the alcohol dulling my inhibitions, I can’t stop thinking of all the things that could do wrong. Like his parents wondering why the garage door opened but then they didn’t hear anyone come in the house.
We go back to Beau’s bedroom, silently working around each other in the small space to get ready for bed. It’s a little harder since I don’t have full use of my left arm, but Beau hands me my next dose of medicine and then gets to work digging into my suitcase to get my nightclothes.
When it’s apparent that I can’t easily undress and re-dress with my cast and arm pain, Beau takes over before I can work up to a mini meltdown.
I don’t usually like relying on anyone for anything, because then I’d be screwed after they left. But it’d be absurd to stomp my foot and declare that I can take care of myself. Because I can’t right now, as the numerous attempts to take my shirt off and the growing frustration showed me.
I give him a chaste kiss on his cheek in thanks for his help and settle into bed. Chaste in that it isn’t a French kiss swapping saliva with abandon, but the feelings that the innocent kiss makes in me are not all that chaste.
I fall asleep snuggling with Beau, his arm rubbing my back and my cast thrown over his broad chest. Surrounded by warmth from the inside out.
I wake up in excruciating pain, like a knife stabbing me in my left wrist. During the night, we shifted, and sleep me decided that it would be a good idea to sleep on my injured arm. My wrist does not appreciate the idea.
I look around the room to see where we put the medication last night. That doesn’t give me any answers, so I have to get up and rifle through my things. Being the considerate sort, I try to make as little noise as possible.
Being a bit of the clumsy sort, I make a lot of noise.
“How’s the arm feeling?” Beau asks from the bed as I knock into the bedside table and send my own water bottle crashing down, the metal hitting the wooden side of the bed before bouncing on the carpet a few times.
At least the bottle had its cap firmly on it.
“Sorry to wake you.” I avoid the question, hoping that avoiding talking about my arm will stop the pain. It doesn’t work, but maybe it just needs to be ignored a little harder.
“It’s fine. Are you looking for the meds?” He takes in the state of his floor, now covered in items that were formerly in my suitcase. I thought I might have thrown the medicine in the suitcase last night and it got lost in there. But it wasn’t there.
I nod, too disappointed to give more of a response than that.
“I put it here last night without thinking after I handed you one.” Beau reaches over to the bedside table on his side to show me the goods. “I’m sorry I made it harder for you.”
That would be the place I hadn’t looked yet. Beau takes out a pill for me and I take it with the water I’m glad isn’t spilled all over the floor. After Beau opens the bottle for me.
I get back in bed, waiting for the medicine to kick in. “What’s the plan for today?”
“It’s parade day, and it’s going to be a long day. But you have a fractured wrist, so I think we can milk that to miss most of the chaos.” He wraps his arms around me.
“You would use me in that manner?” I’m fake affronted, albeit weakly, which means the medicine must be kicking in. Finally.
