After dinner we clean up and decide to relax in the living room, where Luke turns on the television. After sitting for a few minutes, I realize I can’t get comfortable. It’s not because of the seating arrangement or the warm arms wrapped around me as I snuggle close, it’s the day in the sun and the chlorine from the pool seeping into my pores and making my skin feel tight and my hair dry.
“I think I need to take a shower,” I tell him, pulling away.
“Sure, let me show you where to go.” I go into into the kitchen to grab my bag and follow him up the stairs. Luke then guides me into his room which is off to the right.
“Wow,” is all I can say. Everything is black and white, and so masculine. There is a giant king-sized bed made out of the same hickory wood with matching tables on each side. The bedding is black and white with several large pillows. Two large matching dressers rest on the other side of the room next to a huge walk-in closet. Directly across from the entrance are sliding glass doors that lead to a fairly big balcony, from the looks of it. I spin around, taking in all of its beauty. I could totally get used to this room.
“This is my favorite room, Luke. It’s so you; dark and masculine. It’s striking.”
“It’s even more so with you in it, baby. Let me show you the bathroom. Once you see the bathtub you may change your mind about this being your favorite room.”
I doubt that, I think to myself. As we walk into the bathroom, I see a walk-in tiled shower that has two entries and a big round tub with black and white tile surrounding it on the other side. I spoke too soon. To the left of the tub is a dual fireplace and I feel like I’ve died and gone to bathroom heaven. I didn’t even realize bathrooms this extravagant or luxurious existed. A fireplace… in a bathroom!
I turn around and smile at Luke. “I think I want to take a bath, instead.” At that, he walks over and draws the bath. I place my bag on the counter as he dims the lights and kisses me on the forehead. This man is amazing, I voice to myself as he leaves me to soak in absolute heaven.
I strip off my clothes and pull out everything I need to bathe. Climbing into the tub, I lean my head back and let my mind and body relax. Images of Luke invade my thoughts immediately and I feel my body start to stir to life from so many close encounters but no formal gratification. I can feel my muscles spasm slightly at the thought of how good Luke looked in his swim trunks. My nipples peak, becoming sensitive to the slight touch of the water. The way his shorts hung low on his hips, the way the water flowed down his well-defined abs. I lick my lips, knowing how much I would love to feel those muscles clench and spasm under my tongue. How the dips of his hips would taste as I worked my way to his enormous, hard…
I shake my head, getting rid of those thoughts. Knowing how worked up my body is getting, I lean all the way back and wet my hair. I focus my thoughts on my hair, knowing how easily deterred they could become once again. Wash, rinse, condition, rinse. Then, I focus on my body. My highly sensitive and overanxious body. Rinsing off, I step out, fueled with confidence and determination. I grab my bag off of the counter and pull out a pair of jeans and a white tank top.
I march through the bedroom focused on one thing and one thing only. When my foot hits the ledge of the top step, my nerves catch up with me and I pause. What in the world am I doing? There is no way I can make love to Luke. No way. My hormones are leading me down a slippery slope; I’m thinking with my vagina instead of my head. How can I make love to him, share something that has always been so intimate between us, without telling him about Lucy first? How? I can't, won't. Until I can find the determination and confidence to tell him he has a daughter, everyone's pants are staying on.
I feel confident in my decision, although my body is still humming in anticipation of what won't come. Lucy has to come first. Always has, always will, I think to myself as I continue downstairs, realizing now more than ever how much I need to tell him. Too bad every time I even think I gather enough confidence to move forward, to actually open my lips to say the words, I deflate like a balloon. This time is no different.
Resigned to tell him soon, I see Luke standing against the counter with a beer in his hand. As soon as he notices my arrival, he reaches into the fridge and grabs another one, popping the top as he hands it to me. He leans back on the counter and takes a long pull.
“I have a great idea,” he says, his tone playful. “Let me grab a couple more beers and let’s go outside.” Turning around, he grabs two more beers and starts toward the front door.
“It’s dark out. What the hell do you have in mind, Schavone?”