My mind collected itself as factoids from my senses made me aware of where I was. Rome’s house. Rome’s video games. Rome’s scent. Rome’s necklaces. Which meant…
I had fallen asleep while he played his games and made myself as comfortable as I could. Even my leg had partially lifted to wedge my knee between his. My muscles held no tension, my breathing deep and regular, and a haze of content put my mind at ease.
Until I realized a specific line I drew for myself had been crossed. I swallowed and knew I needed to extricate myself from this situation before things downstairs woke up. His smell, the firmness of his body, how my own body puzzle-pieced againsthis just right…
Nope. Don’t think of that.
I lifted my head a fraction. My eyes could only reach the stubbly shadow of his chin. I looked up, slowly, careful not to wake him. But those deep blues of his stared right back. Wide awake and with a careful but generous grin on his face, as if I had earned something special from him.
“Sorry,” I whispered, breathy. Almost heady, still intoxicated from simplyhim.
“Don’t be,” he replied in an equally hushed whisper I almost couldn’t hear over the video-game music.
Rome’s arm lay pressed against my back like he wanted me closer, nestled dangerously close on my hip. I used an elbow to prop myself up and pulled my leg from between his. He rolled and adjusted so that we sat side by side as we had earlier. I rubbed at my cheeks to feel line marks from where I smooshed against the fabric of his shirt.
“I didn’t ruin your game, did I?” I asked carefully. I blinked heavily to pull myself fully from sleep.
“Definitely not, no.” The satisfaction in his voice took me by surprise. His entire energy vibrated with potential. As if a mere suggestion from me and he’d tip in whatever direction I wanted. I viewed another side of this man, the other half of the consummate athlete who graced the jumbotron five nights a week. This half was innocent and eager. Almost content in the nascency of whatever grew between us.
“Okay good. I don’t want to get in the way of… I dunno… your schedule?” I craned my neck to look around the room. “What time do you usually go to…?” My eyes found a wall clock behind the couch. I leaped in place, then kicked off the blanket. “Shit, I need to get going.”
Rome’s face contorted first to pain and then confusion. “Is everything okay?” he asked. The unspoken words, “Did I dosomething wrong?” seemed to translate in the air between us.
“Yeah. Yes, of course,” I said through a smile to alleviate his worry. “Believe me, I would stay longer if I could.”You are an exceptionally comfortable person to lean into. “I have a sunrise shoot and technically need to wake up in a couple of hours.” I preened a little and said, “It’s for a congressman, actually. Need to be on my A-game.”
His brow lifted as he pushed off the blanket and climbed to his feet. I had already rounded the couch. “Oh wow. That’s pretty neat.”
“It is but these guys are just like the sports world. It’s all about reputation. Anyway, I don’t want to keep interrupting your evening like this. You still have one more game to go and I’d hate for you to mess up tomorrow because of me.”
He held out both hands. “That’sdefinitelynot the case. But I appreciate the sentiment. Come on, I’ll walk you to the door.”
Such a gentleman. The threshold was less than twenty paces and I could see it from where I stood. He lumbered behind me, his bare feet slapping against the hardwood. I reached the door and slipped into my loafers as my mind spun in a dozen different directions. Something had shifted between us in the past ten minutes and was about to manifest itself. I could feel it, as surely as I could the humidity after an August thunderstorm.
I turned around to say goodbye and saw that Rome had closed the gap between us. His towering height didn’t intimidate me physically, but a shyness suddenly crept up inside me. His hands didn’t fidget, his form as still and ready as if he were up to bat. And I suppose he was.
Take the swing, slugger.
“Alex,” he said. “May I kiss you goodnight?”
Moretti singles on a line drive to center field.
“Yes,” I replied with half-lidded eyes.
He closed the gap farther, if that were possible. My headnaturally tilted back as he cupped my face in both of his hands. He leaned down and my eyes closed as his lips pressed against mine. I felt the stubble from his day-old beard, the calluses on the pads of his fingers against my face. The heat of his body standing so close.
It was a gentle kiss. Nothing to drop me to the floor or throw me to the wall. Only his lips on my lips, a long heartbeat of silence, and the coldness of space when he finally pulled away. It was perfect.
Rome kept his hands on my face. No smile, no goofy, boyish grin. Just a satisfied man, content in his bold actions that yielded exactly the results he wanted.
“Goodnight, Alex.”
He pulled the door open for me and summer heat collided into us.
“Goodnight,” I told him and made my way to my car on awkward feet, as if walking for the first time. I had never been asked for a kiss like that. Ever. His gentlemanliness confused me in a good way. It kept me stammering for the next thing to say. Refreshing, really, in a community where kisses were forged from late night hookups prompted by solicited dings on salacious apps. Rome sat outside of all that.
Like the last time I left, Rome waited for me to get into my car and start her up. He leaned into the doorframe with his hands in his pockets. Still no smile but his eyes conveyed a simple kind of joy one found in a simple kind of action. A kiss: asked for, not taken, gentle and hopeful, not hard and demanding.
My head swam as I left the driveway and pulled onto the main road. I wanted to text and ask when we could hang out again. I wanted to clear my entire work schedule so I could attend every single one of his games. I wanted, I wanted, I wanted…
