“In a second.” Beau affectionately kisses me on the nose. “But I would bring you all the sweet tea your beautiful Yankee heart could desire, so I don’t think you’d mind.”
“That’s an acceptable trade-off.”
I’ve been spending a lot of time with Beau over the past few weeks and I’m consistently surprised at the contrasts of the man. He can be stoic and sweet and the perfect gentlemen, but then in the louder moments, during sex mostly, he shows a different side. Still nice, but raunchier, earthier, and a little less polite.
And he has a real sassy side to him. Especially about art and the city. So many opinions.
I like the contrasts. They’re intriguing. Like I could spend a serious amount of time exploring them.
But like almost every happy thought I’ve had since I met him, they lead to more somber thoughts focused on the fact that the relationship has an expiration date. An expiration date where we’ll both go to our respective corners of the country, keeping to our own sides of the East Coast.
And even though I don’t want to be apart from Beau, I also still don’t want to put myself in a position where I can be hurt.
So I guess I have some contradictions myself to work through.
We lie in the bed for a while longer, me wrapped in Beau and a very fluffy duvet. I get out my phone to keep in contact with New York and Beau gets out his own, probably on the lookout for a new mulch guy, or some other equally agrarian concerns.
“I like having you here,” Beau whispers to me as I’m answering emails.
“In the South?”
“Yes. But also here, in bed. On our phones but still together.” He punctuates the sentiment with a kiss to my head.
“I like being with you too.” It is nice to do my own thing with someone next to me. It fills in a little of the gap that Priya left when she dared to get a life outside of me and work.
We’re interrupted by a knock on his door. “Come on, kids. Reed said I had to leave you alone and I have. But it’s getting late and I need my wise man and float rider,” Eve yells. Then knocks again. In case we missed the urgency of her words, I suppose.
“We’ll be down in a second,” Beau yells back.
“Hurry, please.” Eve makes a final plea to get us downstairs quickly.
“Do you need help?” Beau asks as I get out of the bed.
“I think I’ll be able to manage?” The answer comes out as a question. I really don’t like not being able to do things by myself, but my wrist is telling me it doesn’t care about insignificant things like my wishes.
I still try, managing all the necessary morning bathroom tasks until I have to get dressed. That’s when my wrist protests most strongly, by throbbing like all my blood rushed to this one location and is desperate to leave my stubborn skin that has the temerity to keep it imprisoned.
And I’m naked, because it was easier to get the clothes off—thanks, wrist—than it is to get new ones back on. I come back into the bedroom, head hung in defeat.
“I could use that help,” I say in a small voice. I hand him the clothes in my good hand without looking at him.
Beau doesn’t gloat as he dresses me with as much care as he undressed me the night before. I don’t think he means it to be sexual, but any time his hands are on me, I think X-rated thoughts. It gets to the point where I move when he does to avoid extraneous brushing up against him. With my luck, however, my moves make me brush against him even harder.
From the looks he’s sending me, I can’t tell if he thinks I’m doing it on purposetotouch him, or if he knows I’m doing it to avoid the contact.
Ordeal by horny flesh finally over, I’m dressed.
“Before we head down, I want to give you something.” Beau stops me by gently grabbing my non-injured hand.
“A Christmas present?” I feel the panic rise at the thought that someone got me a present and I didn’t get them one. That is not the Christmas spirit. And it would be worse to be in an unequal present situation with Beau. “I didn’t know we were doing presents. It’s not even Christmas.”
“It’s not really a Christmas present. I just saw it when I was out taking care of mulch and thought of you. And I want you to have it now because you might want to use some of the things while you’re here.”
“So it’s just an item given around Christmas time?” I ask carefully. That still sounds like a Christmas present, but it does give me time to get him a gift for the holiday. A real one. Shit, I didn’t even think I’d be around for Christmas.
“Sure.” He goes into his closet and gets a large wrapped item from it.
“A non-Christmas present wrapped in Christmas wrapping paper?” I point at the reindeers in cute Christmas sweaters on the paper.
