I give a hearty laugh and he smiles widely. “You can’t tell me there were no shenanigans going on when they were stuck in that barn together overnight.” He winks at me.
An hour later he’s yawning and I’m having trouble keeping my eyes open as well, so we say our goodnights and head to bed.
* * *
Over the next week, Charlie and I don’t even see much of each other. He’s still making meals and leaving them in the freezer or refrigerator for me because he’s gone when I get home, working the evening shift at Sunny’s. It’s incredibly sweet, because he really doesn’t have to do it, not when he’s working just as many hours in the day as I am, and is also on his feet all day. I’ve even found little notes on them from him that say things like “Save some for me,” or “Can’t wait to see you.”
As much as I appreciate it though, it’s not the meals I want, it’s him. I miss him so damn much. I miss his presence at the dinner table, I miss his music when I enter the house, I miss our conversations and our cuddles on the couch. I miss his sass and snark. I miss seeing his shoes when I walk in the front door. The only time I do see him is when I pick him up from work, because I’m not letting him ride home in the dark on a bike no matter how much he grouses. Besides that, despite his protestations, I think he really does like me showing up to drive him home. It proves that I care, and he needs that. He always has the biggest smile when he sees me through the restaurant window, regardless of the exhaustion prevalent on his features. Inevitably, he falls asleep on the short drive home, his head resting against the window frame.
My chest aches with the need to be close to him, talk to him, have his hand in mine again, and I plan to do something about it. I still haven’t brought up how exhausted he seems, but I’m hoping that since he has Friday off he’ll be able to sleep in, and that after I get home he’ll let me take him out.
I want to spoil him, and I have just the way to do it.
ChapterNine
CHARLIE
It doesn’t surprise me that Paul has already left for work when I make my way out to the kitchen Friday morning. It’s been a long week and we’ve barely set eyes on each other. I’ve tried so hard to stay awake after he picks me up so that I can talk to him, even if it’s just for ten minutes. I miss him so much. But I’m always asleep before the tires hit the road. I’m so fucking exhausted. I did better last night than usual, though. No nightmares this time. They happen less now that I’m living here in general, but they still wake me several times a week. I’m always scared to go back to sleep afterwards and I end up moving out to the living room to watchFriendsuntil I can’t keep my eyes open anymore. I have a feeling he suspects something, given how tired I always am, but he hasn't said anything. Part of me is aching to tell him about the nightmares, crawl into his bed and ask him to hold me, but I don’t. I know he cares for me but I don’t want to be a burden, and he’s already doing so much. Part of me feels like that would just be asking too much, and I feel like I should be handling this aspect of things on my own.
I stop in my tracks when I see a beautiful bouquet of flowers sitting on the island. It’s huge, and arranged in a lovely green glass vase. Inside are red roses and lilies, some of which have bloomed and a few that have yet to, along with purple stock and dianthus. It’s absolutely breathtaking. I lean in and close my eyes, drinking in the fragrant scent. The best part is, he remembered my favorite color, from me mentioning it randomly one time. Shit, I might cry. That bastard.
Next to the flowers is a gift box wrapped in sparkling silver paper. A card with my name on it in his messy scrawl sits on top. Why does it give me goosebumps to see my name in his handwriting? I feel a shiver race down my spine as I tear open the envelope and pull out the card. I’m smiling like an idiot when I see the words in multi-colored print on the front that say “Miss You Like Crazy.” I open it and there’s his handwriting again. He’s written a poem. Well, sort of. It’s not exactly original, but I’ll take it.
My darling Charlie,
Roses are red (these ones anyway)
Lilies aren’t blue
Please join me for dinner tonight
I’ve been missing you :(
Paul
P.s. I purchased something for you to wear tonight if you like it. If you don’t I won’t be offended. Well, maybe a little bit. :)
I bite my lip and grin. Fuck, I’m crazy about him. Is this a date? I probably shouldn’t assume that. God, I want it to be, though. I’d date him in a heartbeat if he asked me. I’d give anything to be his for real. To know what it felt like to kiss him, to fall asleep in his arms and wake up next to him. To have his warmth surrounding me every night and feel his steady heartbeat under mine. To have him making love to me would be the most amazing thing in the world. I haven’t had the most positive experiences when it comes to sex. Okay, I haven’t had a single positive experience when it comes to sex. But something tells me it could be different with him. That he could show me how good it’s supposed to be. That he would treat me with the tenderness and care I deserve and yet show me passion and desire at the same time. That’s all I’ve really wanted when it comes to sex. Something other than lust, or the person I’m with only thinking of themselves. Despite my past experiences, I know sex can be good. And I know it could be good with him.
I sigh because I have no idea if that dream will ever become a reality. I’m not even sure if he’s ever had sex with a guy before. Despite our age difference, I feel so drawn to him. Not just because he’s hot, and god, is he hot, but he’s also incredibly sweet, and good, and kind, and he shows me every day how much he cares for me as a person, not what I can do for him, or how much power he exudes over me. He’s never once tried to change me or mold me into someone else. He genuinely wants what is best for me, wants to see me be successful, and happy, and I want to give myself to him for everything that he is, and everything that he’s challenging and encouraging me to be.
I put the card aside and reach for the box, pulling it to me. I’m curious as hell to see what he got me. And, I’ll admit, a little nervous, too. I pull off the ribbon and bow and then tear off the sparkling silver paper. I lift the lid and move the tissue paper aside. “Oh,” I say to myself. Inside is a lovely emerald green chiffon camisole, with a v-neck and matching pants. I take out the camisole and smile as I hold it against myself. It’s soft and flowy and comes to just above my belly button. I set it aside and reach for the pants. When I do, my cheeks heat so much I wouldn’t be surprised if they were the same color as my hair. The third item in the box is a black lace thong. I don’t know where he got it but I can tell it’s made for men. The thought makes me blush even deeper. On top of the panties is a note that reads,
I know this is rather intimate and that we agreed to wait until you decided if you were staying before we bought anything like this, but I figured they would go better with your outfit than what you currently have, so please forgive me. I wanted you to feel your best.
Well, for fuck’s sake. I can’t even pop a boner because that was too damn sweet to make me horny. They’re lovely. Papa Bear bought me panties. I can’t help the fluttering feeling in my stomach at the intimate gesture. Taking them in my hands, I realize how incredibly soft they are and I can’t wait to feel them against my bare skin.
And okay, my cock does twitch a little bit. How can it not, thinking of him buying me these panties and knowing that he’ll know exactly what I have on under my outfit tonight?
He did such an amazing job with everything. This outfit is not only soft and comfortable, but incredibly chic and sassy, and I fucking love it. I can already tell it will look amazing with the strappy heels he bought me at Macy’s.
The only problem is, I have to wait eight hours before I can wear it. Damn. Well, I do have lots of primping to do. Not to mention I want to get an outfit ready for him. If he gets to pick out my clothes I get to pick out his. But first things first. I get my phone out and text him.
Me:Thank you for the flowers and the outfit. My answer is yes??I would love to have dinner with you tonight
I get a text back a minute later.
Hot old guy: Can’t wait. You’re welcome.
