“I need to use the bathroom,” I tell him, slightly out of breath from the whirlwind that Eli has become.
“There.” He points to an open doorway. “You’ll find me in here.” He slurs a little, sounding stupefied, throwing me an over-the-top finger wave as he walks through a bedroom door.
Eli lets out anooftsound as he staggers, colliding with the doorjamb. Soft laughter bubbles up, and it slips from my lips.
Boy, he is drunk.
I dart into the bathroom, loving every minute of this crazy moment with him, before closing the door and going in search of toothpaste in the medicine cabinet above the sink.
This morning, when he picked me up, we agreed to go back to the city together in one of the coaches provided for guests to give his driver the rest of the day off. It never crossed my mind, not once, that I would be spending the night with Eli. Maybe I wished for it, but it was a long shot.
I’m deeply aware that Eli changed his plans at the last minute, which he usually doesn’t do. He’s a stickler for following his schedule and hates anything last minute thrown his way. Staying over tonight is a big step for a guy who always adheres to a strict routine.
Grabbing the tube of toothpaste off the shelf, I use my finger to brush my teeth as best I can, surveying the vast bathroom that’s big enough to throw a party inside.
“Holy shit,” I mumble, spraying toothpaste finely into the air as I take in the expensive-looking fixtures, marble flooring, and tiling accented by a giant circular window on the far side of the bathroom that must overlook the valley. I imagine the view is breathtaking in the morning, resembling a scene from a movie. “Wow.” The shower cubicle is large enough to fit at least ten people.
Once I push my eyes back inside my head, which had popped entirely out of their sockets in amazement at the elaborate yet cozy decorated bathroom, I finish freshening up, text Mistee to tell her about my change of plans, and she quickly replies with a thumbs-up and a smirking devil emoji. My pulse quickens as I leave the bathroom and head for the door Eli vanished through.
Tentatively, I linger in the doorway, biting the side of my mouth and feeling nervous for the first time in a long while.
“Eli,” I whisper into the dark room lit only by moonlight because he’s failed to close the drapes.
A loud grumble escapes his lungs before he throws back the comforter and tells me, “Get in, Sapphire,” already sounding half asleep.
As I fully enter the room, I smile to myself, amused at how he’s taken off all his clothes, except for his boxers, and left them strewn across the floor. I’m almost tempted to fold everything into a neat pile for him, but I resist.
The giant wooden bed frame creaks as Eli shifts onto his side to get comfortable, the peaks and valleys of his laddered abs highlighted by the light reflecting off them, the deep shadows revealing how pronounced they are.
I wish I could see them clearly.
Patience, Sapphire.
When the sun comes up tomorrow, my wish will come true.
I drop my purse on the nightstand and try to take off my dress, but I struggle with the tricky fastener and give up. Instead, I lift the dress over my head, leaving me in only my panties, because I couldn’t wear a bra; the back was too low. It’s not as if I have much up top, so my girls don’t exactly need any support.
Draping my dress over the side chair next to the bed, I feel completely comfortable in my own skin as I walk over to a chest of drawers and open one, then another, hoping to find a T-shirt, but I fail. I close the drawer and exhale, my eyes landing on Eli’s tuxedo shirt in a heap.
That will have to do.
On my way to bed, I lift his still-buttoned shirt off the floor and pull it over my head, easing my arms into the thin cotton, encasing myself in Eli’s cologne, wishing his arms held me instead. I nuzzle into the stand-up collar, inhaling his scent even deeper this time into my nostrils, unable to get enough, as his masculinity awakens all my senses.
I wish I could have been this shirt and wrapped around him all day.
I snort out loud at my stupidity and how Eli makes me feel like I’m a teenager again. Although high school wasn’t the best for me. Especially when the most handsome guy in school and captain of the football team decided I was his verbal punching bag during my last year of high school and thought it was funny to tease me about my appearance, my style, my small boobs… I could go on, turning my final year at school into a living hell. It’s the same guy who DM’d me, asking if I remembered him from school and wondering if I’d be interested in going to dinner with him. Mistee and I both agreed that the middle-finger emoji was the perfect reply, then blocked him immediately. Douchebag.
So, scratch that, Eli makes me feel all shiny and new, and giddy, and I don’t get giddy and googly-eyed over men. Like, ever.
Standing by the side of the bed, I feel the pull to join him strong like a magnet, and slide into the cool sheets just as he begins softly snoring, signaling that he’s completely passed out. I’m not the least bit disappointed because it means I get to ogle him without him knowing.
Perving more like, but whatever.
I pull the comforter over my body, then roll onto my side to gaze at his strong features, memorizing every freckle, lock of hair, and full lips as the moonlight dances across his skin, accentuating his features.
Before closing my eyes, I reach up and lightly run my finger over his brow, which looks less tense than normal. Usually it’s wrinkled with deep lines from worry or whatever concerns him. Maybe it’s his brain, he says, that doesn’t work right anymore. I don’t understand but want to. It’s now a deep need within me to know now that he’s overshared.
He’s deep in sleep and at peace, and his face is smooth and handsome, as if whatever thoughts keep him on edge have vanished.
