Page 49 of Waiting on Life
A feeling I understood.
“He’s a good boy,” Kyle said, nuzzling Waldo between the ears for a moment before setting him down on the floor. “I’ve think we’re all set. Are you ready to eat?”
“Yeah, I’m starved.”
I started for the kitchen, but Kyle stopped me. “Let me. You look like you’re hurting.”
I swear, Kyle noticed everything. “I am a little sore.”
He snorted. “Bullshit. You’re hurting like hell, I can see that. Next time let someone help you move shit, you stubborn ass.”
Funny how him railing against me made me feel cared about. “Sorry. I honestly thought I could do it. I didn’t mean to ruin our night.”
Kyle turned, his eyes wide. “Who said the night was ruined?” He picked up the plates, put a couple slices of pizza on each, then brought them over to the table and put one down in front of me. “Let me ask you something. Would you be okay with me giving you a massage? It might—”
“Yes.”
That made him chuckle. “I don’t even have to finish the question?”
The thought of his hands on me, kneading my aching muscles, sounded too good to be true. “No, you don’t.”
“Then let’s finish eating and we can get to the rubbing.”
“But the movie,” I protested.
“Will always be there. Look, I’ve seen you at work, and I know how you bend over backward for people. Sometimes almost literally. You don’t let us do for you ever. So let me do that now. For one night, let me take care of you.”
In every relationship I’d ever been in, people were fine with me taking care of them, but when it came to my needs, they were a lot less enthusiastic. “You don’t have to—”
“Oh, stop with the bullshit,” he grumbled. “Admit you’re hurting, then say ‘Yes, Kyle. Please take care of me.’”
The protestation was on the tip of my tongue, but I wouldn’t say it. He was right. If we were going to have a future, I needed to show him that I not only saw him, but heard him as well.
“Yes, Kyle. I’m hurting pretty badly. Would you please take care of me?”
His eyes glistened. “I would be happy to.”
We ate in silence, except for each of us shooing Waldo away when he thought he could snatch some food while we weren’t looking. Afterward, Kyle told me he was going to do the dishes. I was to go into the bedroom, strip down to my underwear, and lay on the bed. If I had massage oil, that would be great. The thought of some scented oils perfuming the air as he massaged me was tantalizing. Unfortunately, I only had Bengay, which was my go-to muscle cream, and told him so.
“We’ll make it work,” he promised. “Now go. Let me get these dishes done, then come in and take care of you.”
I gave him another quick kiss before I trudged to the bedroom. My whole body protested as I tugged off my clothes. I’d hurt before, but this was a new ache I hadn’t experienced. I lay down on the bed, arms at my side, and closed my eyes.
“You okay with me turning the lights down?” he asked, startling me.
“Sure, that’s fine.”
He dimmed the overheads until it was no longer bright, but not quite dark. It was soothing. He came over and pulled off his shirt. “Is it okay if I strip too?”
Oh hell, yes. “If you’re comfortable.”
A moment later the shirt dropped to the floor, and then he toed off his shoes and finally dropped his pants. My eyes went immediately to that freckle above his nipple. It fascinated me endlessly.
“You’re beautiful,” I whispered.
“You ain’t so bad yourself,” he said, crawling on the bed. Reaching over to the table, he picked up the lotion. He opened the top and squeezed a few dollops onto my back. I hissed from the cold.
“Sorry,” he said, but I could hear the grin in his voice.
