Page 26 of Blood & Kisses

I sit on the edge of the bed, sinking into a mattress softer than mine, and I lie back on the bed, running my hands along the bed cover and drinking in his scent. But I want more. I want to experience Gabe sensually, feel his muscles contract against my skin, let those experienced hands work me, lips and tongue torture me.

On hands and knees, I crawl to the top of the bed and lay my head on his pillow, swathing in residuals of Gabe. I pull back the covers and crawl inside, nestling down into his sheet, cocooned in his scent, imagining his body pressed against mine.

Yeah, I’m losing the plot a little and becoming a psycho obsessive crazy. “I’ll stay for a few minutes,” I promise myself, closing my eyes, enveloped in soft, fluffy clouds, and sighing as I relax deeper into a delicious trance.

***

Birds singing outside and a tinkling sound urge me to open my eyes. Someone is standing at the end of the bed, taking his belt off, narrowed eyes watching me curiously as he does.

“Sleep well?” he asks smoothly.

I bolt upright in horror, realizing I’m still in Gabe’s bed, and he’s returned home. “I’m so sorry. Your door was open. No, that’s no excuse. I’m really sorry, Gabe. I shouldn’t have snooped.”

He pulls his shirt tucked into his black pants and unbuttons it. “You can do whatever you like, Rae, but after a double shift with far too much evil for a single lifetime, I need to sleep it off. You’re welcome to stay.”

“Sleep?” I jab as if it were a foreign word I’ve never heard before because I’m horrified at my stupidity.

“Yeah, sleep. You know that thing you do when you’re not awake,” he croons, and I wonder if I should laugh. Was that a joke? A Dad joke? Actually, he doesn’t seem like he’s joking. He seems determined to strip off his clothes before me and climb inside this bed to…sleep, I guess.

“What is the time?” I enquire, realizing I had left my phone in my room, so I have no idea.

Luckily, Gabe is here and reaches for his phone on the set of drawers. “Eight forty-eight,” he replies.

“In the morning?” I ask perplexed. Where the heck is my head?

“Yeah, it’s light outside-”

“Oh my god,” I throw back the covers, and in a hurry, I climb out, rushing to the door. “I’ve got a shift at work. I’ll be late.”

Running down the hall to my room, I glance back to find him watching me from his doorway with amusement and desire. I swallow back my hunger to run into his arms. No. He needs to sleep, and I need to get to work.

“Bye,” he says quietly as I vanish into my room, trying to calm my stupid heart.

I can’t dwell on how embarrassed I am or that I may have ruined his trust in me to be left alone in his house again. His opinion of me likely scoured substantially after he saw me being railed by Blake over his kitchen table anyway, so he might have low expectations.

As I rush to dress and slather deodorant all over myself since I don’t have time for a shower, all I can think about is how I can make it up to him. Is there anything I can do to improve his opinion of me?

When I leave, his door is shut, and I suppress the urge to press my ear against the wood to listen to his breath. At the foot of the stairs, his door opens, and he calls my name.

I swallow back my nerves and embarrassment, hoping my cheeks don’t burn to give me away.

“Dinner tonight?” he says, opening the door wider, allowing me to see that he’s wearing boxers and a grey T-shirt.

“Um, sure,” I answer, confused but elated. Is this a date? Is he asking me out on a date? I open my mouth to ask, ‘formal or informal?’ when he adds…

“Six PM. Downstairs. We need to have a meeting,” he informs me, and my heart sinks.

“Okay, sure,” my voice croaks from embarrassment. “Um, what is the meeting about?”

“You’ll see,” he replies, gazing and pointing to my bag over my shoulder. “Anyway, you need to get to work, and I need to sleep.”

“Of course,” I stumble about making a dick out of myself before running down the stairs to retrieve a glass of water to throw over my stupid face.

15

I arrive for my shift in the uni gardens 20 minutes late, and my boss approaches me while weeding the rock gardens outside the Science School.

“By all means, dock my pay,” I instruct, “and I assure you this won’t happen again.”

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