“I can’t believe you drank that celery juice this morning.”
“I was starving,” he defends. “I was hoping it would taste semi-good.”
“And what did it taste like?” I turn my back to the door, watching him.
“Like lemon juice and celery water.” He shakes his head as he makes a sour face. “I’m never, ever going anywhere ever again unless I get all the details,” he says, “but I will say I’d like to do that reformer thing again.”
“Pilates,” I tell him. “It’s a great workout, does the whole core.”
He nods his head and puts his hand over my leg and again I hold it as we drive away from the retreat. The last two days have been a bit of mixed emotions for me as I tried to navigate through whatever it is that is happening between us.
Last night he was asking me questions I wasn’t even sure I wanted to answer. I have never been with someone who wanted to ask me those questions. It made me see that all of the relationships I had were very superficial. They were relationships based on being cordial with the other person and then maybe leading to sex. Sometimes there wasn’t even sex. I never, ever let anyone in, and I know why. Deep down, I know the reason I didn’t let anyone else in was because I knew their love would come with strings. There is no way love is just given without anything in return, and I had nothing to give anyone. I didn’t want their love and I didn’t want to give them mine.
“So you want to come over to my house tonight?” he asks me, and I turn my head from the window to him. “I don’t have the kids.”
“I should get home,” I reply, even though my heart wants to go to his house. “I have work tomorrow.” I am almost tempted to ask him to come over to my house instead, but he just smiles and nods at me as he focuses on the road in front of him.
He is not joking about stopping for food, as he gets off at the exit that has a Burger King as soon as we see a sign. “I’m having a double,” he announces and I laugh at him. “What do you want?”
We sit in his SUV eating our Whoppers with cheese and bacon, the whole time neither of us saying a word to each other. “This has to be the best thing I’ve ever eaten in my life,” he declares after three bites.
“You said my pussy was.” I take a French fry out of the bag. “You lied.”
“This is the best thing I’ve chewed and swallowed.” He winks at me. “Is that better?”
“It will do,” I reply, finishing my burger and then taking five long sips of the soda I ordered with my meal, something I haven’t done in the longest time.
He pulls up to my apartment building and I feel a sense of dread wash over me as I get out. He gets out also, opening the trunk door. “Well, this has been fun,” I say as he reaches for my bag and he laughs. I grab the bag from him. “Thank you for the invitation.”
“Thank you for not taking off on me in the middle of the night.” He wraps an arm around my waist.
“You put the keys in the safe and didn’t tell me the code,” I remind him, “and my phone had no service.” He smiles even bigger. “So in reality, you kept me hostage.”
“I would do it again,” he states, bending to kiss my lips. “I’ll call you later.”
“We just spent three days with each other.” I move out of his arms. “I think it’s okay if you call me tomorrow or even in seven business days.”
He laughs as I go in for one more kiss and then turn to walk into my building. I stand at the elevator and look over, seeing him standing there watching me. I hold up my hand when the elevator doors open, taking a step in.
My head is going around and around. It feels like one of those pictures of the tornados about to touch down. I push open my door and step in and head for the bedroom. Putting my bag down, I unpack it right away.
My mind is filled with him the whole time, and I admit to myself I really, really fucking like him. I take a shower, washing away the scent of the retreat and him from my body. Starting my laundry, I then check my emails. I put on a long silk robe while I catch up on work on the couch.
I get up when the washer beeps and then walk over to switch the load over. I’m walking back to the couch when there is a knock at the door. I look over and see that it’s just after six. The knock comes again. “Coming,” I call, walking toward the door, the robe flying open at my legs.
I open the door and stare, shocked to find Knox there. “Hi,” he says, standing with a canvas bag in his hand, “I was going to cook dinner.” He comes in holding up the bag. “But then I thought, you have to eat too.” I don’t say anything to him. “And after the last couple of days, I owed you a proper meal.” He kisses my lips, and I still don’t say anything. “Plus, I sort of missed you.”
“You missed me?” I ask him, not sure if I heard him right.
“I know, I had no one tell me to shove anything up my ass for the last four hours, and I suddenly missed it.” I laugh at him and look down at my feet as he walks into the house and heads to the kitchen. “I got steak,” he says, putting the bag down on the counter, “and veggies.”
“You came to cook for me?” The tightness forms in my stomach. “Food?”
“Did you eat?” He looks around at my spotless kitchen and I shake my head.
“Then yeah, I’ll cook you food and then you can thank me.” He takes the things out of the bag.
“Thank you,” I say, not sure if I heard him properly.
