Connected

“You don’t even want to start that kind of game,” River says, lifting up my hand and gesturing to where I just pinched him. Then he releases my hand and reaches over to tickle me.

 

I shift in my seat and start squealing. I’m very ticklish but don’t want him to know this, so I try to quickly subdue myself. Grabbing his hand, I attempt to move it away, but he’s relentless and continues his tickling assault. “You’re driving! Put both hands on the wheel. Please!” I yell out with tears of laughter streaming down my face.

 

Braking at the stop sign, he takes his hand back to grab the wheel and hits the turn signal with his other hand. He cocks his head to look at me, and a devilish grin appears on his face. “You didn’t seem that worried about my driving ability an hour ago.”

 

“Actually, I was. That’s why I waited for you to park the car first,” I respond with a sly grin of my own.

 

“Well, I’ll stop for now but only because you asked so nicely,” he tells me in his most adorable voice.

 

He starts to slow down as he approaches a cul-de-sac. He indicates with his chin a house I can just barely see at the end of the street. “Here we are. Home sweet home,” he says as he pulls into a long upward sloping driveway.

 

The house has a smooth white stucco finish and looks to be a 1940’s style ranch. It’s suspended high above the city with a large modern circular stucco staircase leading to a beautiful pair of art deco style double doors. The landscaping is modest but neatly kept; eclectic rocks surround the palm trees. River hits a button in his car, and the large wooden door opens.

 

The garage is located under the house. As he pulls in, I can see a wide staircase in the back right corner, which must lead into the house. Once he puts the car in park, he switches the ignition off and shifts to face me. “Remember, I already warned you what to expect. I just moved in.”

 

He seems slightly nervous, so I bestow a little reassurance. “It can’t be much worse than my house, and I’ve been in transition for way longer,” I say, not explaining why but letting him know I’m cool with unsettled space.

 

As he opens his door, he turns back to look at me. He’s wearing a huge smile and his eyes sparkle. “Not sure if I mentioned this, but since I lived with a bunch of dudes I didn’t bring much. The previous owners left a few things, but really it’ll be like camping until we hit some stores.”

 

Shaking my head and rolling my eyes at him as I reach for the door handle, I ask, “Are you trying to tell me we’ll be sleeping on the floor?”

 

Chuckling as he exits his door, he responds, “Pretty much.”

 

I get out of the car and glance over at him. “Well then Mr. Rock Star turned Boy Scout, show me the way.” I can’t help but laugh; thinking about how similar our carefree domestic attitudes are.

 

He points his finger at me and says, “Don’t laugh. I told you I just moved in.”

 

I approach him as he waits at the front of the car for me, and he takes my hand, leading me up the stairs. Once we reach another small bank of steps that lead to the landing, he ushers me forward. When we get to the top, he reaches above the door and removes a key from the ledge.

 

Turning around, I notice the key in his hand and quickly jest, “Hey River, first rule of a new house never let anyone know where you hide your spare key!” As I look at him, my breath catches from his close proximity and my pulse starts to race when I notice his muscles showing through his t-shirt as they flex and roll with his every movement. Unashamed, I continue to watch him as he reaches around me to unlock the door and reaches again to put the key back.

 

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