"Shh," I said, helping him off with his shirt and turning to the button and zipper on his jeans. "We have all the time in the world for that. You needed this tonight."
"I did," he said, watching me while I undressed him. "But seeing you undress me makes me a bit hard."
"If you ignore it, it will go away," I said and grinned up at him. "I seem to recall you telling me that on a fateful night in November…"
"That it will," he said and closed his eyes. "Oh, Katie, I am so drunk…"
"You are." I led him to the bed and after I pulled the blanket and sheets back, I pushed him down onto it. He fell back, laughing, his eyes closed. He managed to get under the blankets and after quickly undressing, I slid in next to him. He turned just enough so that I could crawl into his arms and then we lay there in the dark and listened to the sounds filtering up from the street. There was a storm outside and the wind blew against the windows, wet snow pelting the glass.
Within a moment or two, he was back asleep, his breathing deep and slow.
I woke in the early morning, and checked the clock radio beside the bed. It was only about six thirty, but Drake was gone, the sheets cold where he had lain. I got up and was hit instantly with a headache, my mouth dry. I peered out into the living room and saw him sitting with a guitar in hand, playing. When I went to the bathroom, I saw that he'd showered and dressed, and so after I did, I went to the kitchen where coffee had been brewed and there was fresh squeezed orange juice in a small carafe and a bottle of aspirin. I took two aspirin myself and drank down the juice. Finally, I made myself a coffee and went into the living room.
Drake saw me and smiled, as he stopped playing. I went to him and leaned down to kiss him.
"Good morning," I said. "You seem no worse for wear after last night."
"Drink plenty of water and take two aspirin," he said and smiled. "Works every time."
"What are you playing?" I said and sat down on the couch, my knees underneath me. I had to turn around and watch over the back of the couch to see him.
"Playing an old Beatles song I like. Do you want to hear?"
I nodded, surprised that he was willing to play for me. Drake had always been so reluctant to sing or play in front of me, but perhaps that wall had been broken down completely and now he didn't mind.
"I'd love to hear you sing and play. You have a really nice voice."
"I get by," he said and started to strum. He played around for a moment. "It's called, And I Love Her."
It was a very emotional song, and I recognized it from listening to the Beatles compilations on YouTube. Beautiful, it brought my emotions to the surface and I had to bite my cheek to keep tears from my eyes.
When he was done, he looked at me, his face so open and honest. "I do love her," he said, his own voice emotional. "I love you, Kate. Thank you for being here for me."
I stood up and went to him. "I love you." I bent down, my hands on either side of his face and kissed him. "Thank you for letting me be here with you."
I let go of him and went back to my place on the couch, my back to him while he continued to strum the guitar for a few moments. I tried to get control over myself, and succeeded only with a great deal of effort. Lucky for me, because he brought his coffee and sat down on the couch beside me after a few moments.
"What's on the agenda for today?" he said, and then he frowned. "Oh, yeah. I remember. You're going to spend time with Mr. 'Hey, Dude.'"
I nodded. "I want to go work on my canvas for a while this morning, but after that, nothing."
He nodded, a bit of a frown on his face as if he was still jealous. "I can do some work at the foundation if you're going to be at the studio, but we should plan on spending the afternoon together."
"Sounds great."
He put his arm around me and we sat and finished our coffee, content to enjoy a few quiet moments together before our days began.
I dressed in something really casual, an old pair of jeans, a t-shirt and a hoodie, my running shoes. Nothing I couldn't get gesso on without concern. I pulled my hair back and put on very little makeup – just a bit of mascara and lip gloss.
Drake watched me while I stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom.
"You still look good enough to eat, Ms. Bennet. I don’t know if I like you spending the morning alone with a bunch of artist-dudes."
"They have nothing on you, Drake. They're still at that flaky stage of manhood. You know, not wanting to settle down. Looking to hookup with as many women as they can, sow their wild oats. I'm not interested so you don’t have to be the least bit concerned."