I grab my tennis shoes and decide to go for a walk. Walking or running always clears my head. I so need a clear head right now.
* * * * *
By the time I make it back, I know I’ve been gone awhile, maybe even an hour. The walk helped calm me down, but did nothing to help me decide anything about Nick’s behavior. The only thing that will help that is talking with him, but I have no idea what to say.
I walk in the front door and come face-to-face with a hole the size of a fist punched in the wall in the foyer. Oh. My. God. Did he seriously do that? A shit load of red flags go up.
I shut the door and I turn to see Nick walking from the living room to where I am. He looks panicked and worried. Guess I should have left a note.
“Where have you been? I’ve been going out of my God damn mind for almost an hour. I called your cell, but it was here. Your car is here. Everything is here, except you.” He grabs me, pulling my head to his chest and takes a deep sigh. It’s like he’s relieved.
“I just went for a walk to think and clear my head.” I wrap my arms around his waist. I know I should be mad at him, but when he’s holding me or touching me, I just seem to relax; this is where I want to be. I don’t know why that is. I’ve known him less than a week, but I don’t want to leave. I’m letting myself grow too accustomed to him and his damn touch.
“Please don’t leave without telling me where you’re going. I was worried. Really. Fucking. Worried.” He tightens his hold on me.
“Did you punch a hole in the wall because you’re mad at me?” Please say it wasn’t me, but even I know that’s wishful thinking. He loosens his grip and places his hands on both sides of my face. He leans down and kisses my forehead.
“Yes, I punched a hole in the wall, but I’m not mad at you. I came out and I couldn’t find you. I thought you left and the wall was there. I’m sorry. I−”
“It’s okay.” No it’s really not okay, but I cut him off anyways. I don’t want him to finish explaining. What the fuck have I gotten myself into?
“Why don’t we go to bed and forget this happened? Deal?” I ask, sighing. I look up at him, waiting for a response. He takes a deep breath.
“Sure.” His lips turn up in a small smile, but it looks forced. He grabs my hand and leads me to his bedroom. The talk I want to have really isn't much of a talk at all. I walk to the closet and remove my bra, tennis shoes and socks.
Walking back to the bed, I remove my sweatpants and climb in. Nick is already in the bed naked; I realize when I lift the covers, sliding under. He grabs my waist, pulling me closer to him so my back is to his front. He slides his arm under my tank top, but doesn’t move further up than my ribs. He kisses my ear lightly while holding me tightly against his chest.
“I know I overreacted and I’m sorry.” He tightens his hold on me and inhales a deep breath in my hair.
I hesitate for a second, not sure I should push him, but I want to know why. “Why don’t you like Jeffery Chaney?”
He’s quiet for a long time, and I don’t think he’s going to answer my question. “I’ve known him a long time. He’s a fucking lunatic.”
“Meaning what exactly?” I ask.
He’s quiet again, but after a few seconds he sighs deeply. “Just let it go, and promise me that you will not see him again. I don’t care that he is a client.”
“Nick, you aren’t telling me anything. I can’t just drop a client. I mean, it’s not like I’m a friend of the man. This shouldn’t be a big deal."
I can feel his body go tight. He doesn’t like what I said, but he isn’t telling me why he has a problem with Jeffery. I don’t want to argue again. I need to distract him so he will let this go. I rise up on my hands and knees, and then crawl on top of him. He places his hands on my hips and gives me a sinister look.
“I think you will look a lot better out of this tank top,” he says as he’s gathering the bottom and pushing it up. I pull it over my head and toss it behind me. I lean forward and kiss him on the mouth.
“Panties off, now,” he demands.
Jackpot.
It worked.
NINE
I wake up to a puppy whining beside the bed. Ughhh, hush…please. I need more sleep after Nick thoroughly worked me over last night, and then a second time. I lift my head a little and look over to Nick’s side of the bed; he is still asleep, lightly snoring. It’s cute, but how does he sleep through her crying?
For the love of God, shut up!
I roll over onto my side and drape my right arm over the bed to pet her on the head. “Do you need to go outside, girl?”