Can't Let Go - A Contemporary BWWM Romance (14 page)

He
tossed back the rest of his beer and set the bottle on a wooden coaster.

“If
you don’t mind?” he said. His eyes were soft and gentle as he looked up at me.

On
the inside I was reeling. I loved sleepovers. I wanted to lay with him. Kiss.
Cuddle. Whatever. I just hoped he wasn’t going to leave at two a.m. like he did
the last time.

I
stood up and stretched my arms up high, letting out the daintiest yawn.

“My
room is back there,” I said as I pointed down the hall.

“I
remember,” he said as he followed me down the hallway.

“I
don’t have any men’s pajamas,” I said.

“It’s
fine,” he replied. He pulled off his t-shirt to reveal a plain, white
undershirt. He then unbuttoned his jeans and slid them down until he was in
nothing but red, plaid boxer shorts.

I
rifled through my pajama drawer in search of something not too raggedy. I
tended to keep everything until it was holey and faded, since that’s when it
was the most comfortable for sleeping.

I
headed towards my walk-in closet and found a silk nightgown. It was pale
lavender and played off my
jet black
hair perfectly. I
stripped down and slipped it on, soon realizing that it was way too sexy and I
was probably going to give him the wrong idea. I couldn’t come out wearing what
I had on before, so I left it on.

The
moment I stepped out, I reached over to flip off the lights, hoping he didn’t
catch too big of a glimpse of my sexy nightgown. I cautiously glanced his way,
but it was too late. The look on his face said it all.

“It
was either this or some ratty old pajama pants,” I said with a coy smile. “I
need to do laundry.”

He
was already in my bed, snuggled under the covers and waiting for me. I climbed
in next to him as he held the covers open and curled up under his arm.

“A
girl could get used to this,” I said. “No more walking up cold in the middle of
the night.”

“Nice
disclaimer,” he laughed.

I
nuzzled my nose onto his smooth chest. He smelled like Irish Spring soap and
some sort of musky aftershave. I ran my fingers over his chest, tracing every
rippled muscle. I’d never realized before what an amazing body he had. He was
lean, like a runner, but every inch of him had definition.

My
eyes were growing heavy, and as much as I wanted to stay up all night long and
cuddle and chat, I couldn’t fight it a minute longer. I had to get up early for
work the next morning.

For
the first time in years, I woke up before my alarm went off. I reached over to
shut it off so it wouldn’t disturb Kevin a half hour later when the world’s
most annoying beeps and buzzes would start blaring from its speakers.

Kevin
looked so peaceful bathed in the tiny bit of light peeking through the
curtains. I thought about watching him sleep for a bit, but if he caught me,
I’d look like the biggest creep.

I
slipped out from the covers as gently as possible, not wanting to wake him, and
tiptoed down the hall and towards the kitchen. With my extra half hour, I’d
decided to make him a nice little breakfast in bed. I missed having someone to
do those things for.

I
tried to be quiet as I pulled out pans and various ingredients, but a rogue
clink or clang escaped a few times. I whipped up some fluffy scrambled eggs,
buttered some whole grain toast, and microwaved some ready-made bacon. It was
going to have to be good enough. I poured a small glass of orange juice and put
everything on a cute little breakfast tray.

I
carried the tray down the hallway, careful not to spill anything, and gently
kicked the door open with my toes.

Kevin
was still asleep, and it was not quite seven. I didn’t know what time he
normally went into work, but I was sure if he had to be somewhere, he’d
probably have set the alarm on his phone.

“Good
morning,” I whispered.

He
stirred a bit before taking a deep breath and opening his eyes. He looked
around the room for a second as his brain processed where he was and then sat
up in bed.

“What’s
this?” he asked.

“Breakfast…”
I replied as I rolled my eyes. “Please tell me you eat breakfast.”

I
sat the tray down on the bed next to him and he sat frozen. He didn’t touch any
of it. He didn’t even seem excited by it.

“What
time is it?” he asked as he rubbed his eyes.

“Now
it’s almost seven,” I replied. “I need to hop in the shower—”

“Almost
seven
?!
” He suddenly sprung alive as he jumped out of
bed and began to gather up his clothes from the floor. He stepped into his
jeans and threw his shirt over his head. “Shit. Shit.”

“What?”
I asked, perplexed.

“I’ve
got to go,” he said. “Sorry. I can’t stick around.”

I
looked down at the untouched breakfast tray and then watched as he scrambled to
get out the door. It was like he couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

By
the time I got to work, I was still trying to wrap my head around Kevin’s odd
behavior. He really couldn’t stay for a few bites of breakfast? If he was
already running late, what
was
another five or ten
minutes?

I
stared at the massive bouquet of flowers from the day before. They served as a
sweet reminder of the Kevin of yesterday. I was quickly realizing that there
were many facets to that man, and I wondered if I was ever going to be able to
keep up with all of his little personality quirks.

I
fired up my computer and checked my email. A small buzzing sound came from my
purse after a few minutes. I ignored it as I tried to immerse myself in work. I
had an unusually high number of emails to tend to that morning, thank goodness,
and a staff meeting scheduled for ten.

Managing
to go the entire morning without checking my phone, I emerged from the staff
meeting with a rumbling tummy and an urge to finally check it. Besides, I
needed to look up a number to my favorite sub shop so they could deliver me some
lunch. I was going to work through lunch that day. I wanted to be as distracted
from my personal life as possible.

I
pulled out my phone and saw the little red icon next to my text messages
telling me I had an unread message. It called to me. It beckoned me to push it
and to see who it was
from.LaLa

Quickly
losing all self-control, I pressed the icon to read the message. It was from
Kevin.

SORRY
ABOUT EARLIER. CAN I BUY YOU LUNCH TO MAKE UP FOR IT?

All
the anger and confusion I’d felt towards him that morning dissipated as soon as
I saw his text. I was sure he had a perfectly logical explanation for running
out like that, and I intended on getting it from him.

He’d
sent the message around nine that morning. I’d made him wait almost three hours
inadvertently, so I quickly typed up a response.

SURE.
WHERE?

It
only took a few seconds to get a response.

MANGIAMO’S ON 5
^TH
.

Mangiamo’s
was a little Italian deli. Kevin and his Italian places. It was just up the
street from my office, so at least it was convenient.

WHEN?

He
replied instantly.

NOW?

A
plume of butterflies rose in my stomach. This whole thing with Kevin, whatever
it was, was like one giant rollercoaster, but he always seemed to pull through
when I least expected it. His timing was remarkable.

I
texted him back that I was on my way, grabbed my purse, and locked up my desk.
Within five minutes, I was standing outside of Mangiamo’s waiting for him. I
stood for about ten minutes before my feet began to ache in my shoes and I took
refuge on a nearby empty bench.

“Hey,”
I heard him say as he walked up. “Sorry I’m a little late. Got caught up in
traffic.”

“It’s
okay,” I said.

He
stood nervously for a moment before leaning in and kissing my mouth. It was
just an innocent peck, but I was happy to receive it. He was a perfect
gentleman, and I suddenly appreciated the fact that he didn’t try anything
funny the night before in my bed. He definitely could’ve used that situation to
his full advantage.

We
approached the counter, ordered our meals, and found an empty table.

“So
what’s this about?” I asked him as we sat down. “Why the impromptu lunch?”

“I
felt bad about this morning,” he sighed as he hunched over and rested his elbows
on the table. “I guess things are just moving a little fast for me. I got a
little freaked out. When I realized I’d stayed the night and you were making me
breakfast in bed, and the way you treated me the night before… it was like
you’re already my girlfriend.”

He
totally said the g-word. I was speechless.

“Okay,”
I said as I waited for him to continue.

“We’re
not there yet,” he said. “Obviously.”

On
the inside, my ego deflated a bit. I thought we were almost there if not there
already. I hadn’t even thought about dating another guy. It made me wonder if
we weren’t exclusive after all. I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d been on any
other dates since we’d first started dating.

“I
just want to take things slow,” he said. He reached over and cupped his hand
over mine on the table. “I think you’re really cool, and I want to do this
right.”

“I
thought we were going pretty slow,” I replied as I yanked my hand out from
under his. “You send a lot of mixed messages.”

“I
know, I know,” he agreed. “I need to work on that. I’ve always rushed
everything before and nothing’s ever worked out. I’m trying to do better this
time.”

It
was an honorable statement, and I had to believe him. I had to give him the
benefit of the doubt. I’d only known him a short while, but he seemed like a
guy worth putting up with until I could get him figured out.

A
young woman brought us our meals and we began to eat. I ordered a tomato basil
soup and half an Italian club.

“Look,
Kevin,” I said between bites. “I just want you to know that I’m having fun with
you, and I have zero assumptions and expectations as to where this is going or
what we are.”

He
looked relieved as a smile spread across his lips. He looked so damn sexy when
he chewed his food. The way his dimples would flash when he chewed too hard and
the way his full lips stayed perfectly pressed together.

“Want
to come over this Friday?” he said. “We could hang out at my place. Something
low-key?”

For
a guy who wanted to take things slow, he was sure all about spending time with
me on a regular basis.

“Sounds
good to me,” I said with a grin.

“All
righty,” he said with a nod. “Just plan on coming over at seven.”

We
ate the rest of our meal, mostly in silence, and he ended up walking me back to
my office since it was just right up the street.

It
was another unusually gorgeous February day, right on the cusp of March, and
there were plenty of birds chirping and little green buds on the trees that
lined the busy street. We were definitely having an early spring.

“I’ll
see you Friday,” he said as we stopped outside my building. He leaned in and
gave me another peck on the lips. I so wished he’d give me a real kiss. A kiss
with even an ounce of passion behind it would’ve been better than those piddly
little pecks I kept getting.