Page 69 of The Battery
We didn’t miss a day of talking, although sometimes the hotel chats were cut short. My libido demanded I send as many salacious pictures that my phone would allow but my superego won the battle most nights. Cody had yet to send one in return and it didn’t seem fair to keep teasing him.
After ten days away, I finally got home at 2am after a late flight out of Ottawa. I stayed as quiet as I could tiptoeing into my own home. I dropped my duffel in the kitchen and performed an inventory on what I saw. He was transitioning off of the major pain meds and moving to over-the-counter NSAIDs. The notebook was there, his neat and legible handwriting marking down progress like we discussed. I’d have to order equipment soon to set up in the backyard to begin light practice.
I grabbed a water from the fridge and headed upstairs. I knew I should have crept down the hall to my own room to catch some sleep. I had the entire day off so I could sleep in as late as I wanted. But curiosity got the best of me and I padded softly to Cody’s room. The door was closed. I could hear white noise pumping out through a machine. I held up my hand to rap my knuckles against it. Then paused.
Let him sleep.
I turned to go when my phone buzzed. An incoming text. Cody, asking if I was home.
I knocked quietly and politely.
“It’s open,” came Cody’s voice. I pushed inside to see the sleepy man laying at a forty-five-degree angle. He reached over to the nightstand and clicked off the white noise machine.
“I didn’t wake you up, did I?”
“I saw the headlights come up the driveway,” he said. “Got some good news for ya.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that?”
He held out his arms. “I can hug now.” Then he shot out a single finger. “But not a lot. Don’t go crazy.”
Didn’t have to tell me twice.
I climbed in next to him instead of hovering over. I went in for an easy side hug, then locked my arm around him so we lay next to each other, him under the sheets, me over them. I kissed his temple. A serious bout of regret hit me—I didn’t know howlong I could keep up with restraining myself for him. I said we’d “date,” but now…
“How’s the breathing?” I asked.
He wowed me by extending his belly in a full breath. It was slow, careful. But progress, nonetheless. “I’m also able to let myself yawn. You have no idea how satisfying that is.”
“After only two weeks,” I said. “Very impressive, Hill.”
He shimmied under the sheets, presumably to gain some comfort. He demonstrated his new ability by taking in a yawn. “How was the flight?”
“Good,” I said and shifted. “What’s the AC set to in this room, arctic chill?”
He laughed. Lightly. “I like it cold when I sleep.”
“I do, too, but this is next level.”
He swiveled his head to look over and up at me. “Then get under the covers with me.”
I turned to look away. A crossroad lay before me. Did I trust myself enough to do this?
“I’m falling asleep here, Spartan,” Cody said.
I craned my long arm and snapped the button to turn his sound machine back on. I slipped under the covers, my frozen toes brushing against the warmth of his feet. I wouldn’t fall asleep like this, at this angle and wearing clothes. But the feel of Cody under my arm, the smell of his hair, and simply his presence was enough to take the edge off.
I kissed him again on his temple and let my lips linger. I pressed repeated, soft kisses. Desire rose in me. I wanted to pull him atop my body and grind against him. Wanted to let my fingers trace his body, inside and out. Let my tongue taste…
His light snoring dissuaded me from any wanton fantasy.
I carefully extricated myself after staying there for about fifteen minutes. The guy didn’t bat an eye, thankfully. I quietlyclosed the door, stripped down, and was under my covers a few moments later. Like Cody, I was out in seconds.
*
We chatted over a plate of homemade eggs, toast, and a bowl of fruit. We sat together in the dining room, steaming mugs of coffee wafting between us. I awakened to the smell of bacon and hoofed it downstairs as fast as I could. It was there, with Cody cooking in my kitchen, that he announced we were having a breakfast date in place of dinner. Who was I to argue?
I learned more about Cody’s past. He called himself a “foundling,” one of the rarer cases of infant abandonment in the country. He had nothing but positive words regarding his foster experience in all five homes. All of his foster moms and dads showed up to his high school graduation, some driving quite a distance to make it to see their “special boy” obtain his diploma. I catalogued everything, making mental notes as he spoke so I could learn to ask more information during future dates.
