揥e should call her before I start trying to take off your clothes again.?
I swallow, wondering how I抦 so damn tempted again. 揧ou do it.?
She blows out a breath, but manages for us both.
Hazel answers with a chaotic wave into the screen, setting us up at what looks like my parents kitchen table after some juggling.
揌i! I miss you guys!?I grin at her bright expression. Clearly not missing us too badly. It eases something in me to see it, though.
揥e miss you too,?Fee replies.
揂re you sitting on my Dad抯 lap??she asks, smiling conspiratorially.
揑 am. Is that okay??
揧es! He told you the rule, though, right??
揘o tongue kissing. Got it.?
揂nd s抦ores blondies once a month.?
Fee turns back to me, 揥hy do I think that was your addition??
I shrug innocently.
Hazel tells us about a new book she抯 reading, seeing a movie with my nephews at the new theater, the one with the new electric recliners. She talks about bowling with my parents, who also squeeze in to get on the phone. My mom looks near tears seeing us together, cooing over everything Fee says. Even my dad sits up straighter in his chair, repeatedly pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and booming out laughter. She charms the pants off them, to absolutely no one抯 surprise.
揧ou can stay in my dad抯 room when you want to stay with us now, Fee,?Hazel says enthusiastically when we start wrapping up the call. I抦 grateful when there抯 no awkward laughter from Fee抯 end.
揟hank you. I抣l take you up on that.?
揌e抯 got enough of that bath stuff you like to last forever. He gets it every single time we go past that store.?Hazel says, rolling her eyes. I groan sheepishly, utterly called out. Fee抯 hand finds mine and squeezes.
We say our I love you抯 and our goodbyes, something so settled and natural about it that my mind cartwheels into the future. Straight into thinking about keeping Fee forever梥omething I抎 intended to do no matter how she抎 have me, but with a new color added to that thought, a new angle.
The January night is cool, but not exactly cold. Just like the too-warm Fall we just had, it seems like we抮e going to have a too-short Winter, Spring already trying to pepper the air here. We walk along the river, over a yellow bridge, where we eat fancy food on a patio under string lights and vines, next to an outdoor fireplace. And then we follow it up with candy from the lobby vending machine that we eat it in our bed, in our messy hotel room oasis, before we trip back out of our clothes and rock against each other slowly from beginning to end, falling asleep with our limbs still tied up in each other.
32
NOW
FARLEY
揟hree days of near-constant sex immediately followed by trying to sleep on a tour bus, plus a plane ride has indeed, made me feel my age, Fee,?Meyer grumbles, one fist shoved into the small of his back.
揚oor, poor man. I抣l work on your knots later.?I practically skip at his side and he grunts. 揘eed me to get your bags??I ask him, and oh, if looks could kill.
We抮e back in L.A. for Shauna抯 premier, tour bus still up North, waiting for us to return to San Francisco.
Meyer retrieves our bags from the belt with a stilted grunt and we head to the exit. 揢m. So, should I just head back to my place? Let you rest your weary bones??I ask.
揂bsolutely not. Come home with me. I want you in my bed.?
揊or rest??
揧ou know what woman? Yes!?he laughs. 揚robably for some rest. Maybe an epsom salt bath. Perhaps a few milligrams of ibuprofen, but then I抣l rock your fucking world,?he grins and chuffs down at me, a combination that delights me more and more.
In the end, his king-sized bed sings its siren抯 call to my own fatigue and I relent, toeing off my shoes and collapsing into it even before he does. We slumber deeply, this time only our pinkies finding each other across the expanse of the bed. Until my alarm blares through the house and I have to drag myself out of the sheets, hurling my body across acres of mattress and into his shower before I head out to have my hair and makeup done.
I have to scrounge for him, buried in the pillows and a marshmallow comforter, before I plant a kiss against Meyer抯 beard. He smoothes a palm up my arm, thumb pushing into the crook of my elbow as he pulls me back down, cracking open an eye.
揗m. My body wash smells good on you,?he says huskily, half his smile obscured in a fluffy down cushion. I cover his sleep rumpled face in a smattering of kisses.
揑 have to go. I抣l be back for the car to pick us up from here at five, though.?
揌mmkay. I love you.?
I抣l be sad when the somersault my stomach performs every time I hear that fades one day.
揑 love you too.?
I抦 sitting in the salon chair, a dazed smile molded to my face, mind wandering to what it would be like to live this way. I weave a fantasy from the mundane, the simple ordinaries. From waking up in the same bed every day, in our own cloud. To cooking side by side in the kitchen, Meyer circumspectly trying to tidy up behind me as I go. To playing board games around the coffee table, Hazel snacking on her favorite lemon cookies, me with my mug of wine, Meyer with his beer.
I think about Spring, the annual field trip Hazel抯 class takes to a farm just outside of town. How maybe this year I抣l have enough power to convince Meyer to let us take home a few of the downy chicks. His yard is big enough for a few hens, I抦 sure of it. We could build them a perfect coop over in the corner. Make a silly sign for it and call it the Chick Inn.
I want to take her up to Abel抯 farm this Fall, too. Go fishing in the pond that they stock while we eat apple donuts.
I imagine Meyer and I together, on a plane, in various cities throughout the country. Him waiting for me at the sides of the stages in every place we go.
My phone vibrates on the counter in front of me and I lean over abruptly to get it, my stylist laughing as she抯 forced to chase me with the iron.
Meyer: I get it now. Why people say they抮e so happy they can抰 stand it, or something抯 so great it抯 disgusting. I feel like I might need to be tranquilized.
My feet flutter kick against the footrest as a terrible squeal-sigh pinwheels through me.
Me: I was just thinking the same.
When I walk through his front door later, to him in a pale gray tux, the lapels a navy velvet blue, my dress draped over the couch and waiting for me, it抯 too much to resist.
揙kay, we can抰 fuck up this,?I gesture to my face and hair even as I抦 sliding down his zipper. He smiles and laughs before he spins around a dining chair and falls into it, slacks pooling at his ankles. I strip off my pants all the way as he shirks his jacket. He eyes me hungrily as he loosens his tie, braces his hands on his thighs and watches me quickly undress. He doesn抰 bother with removing my underwear, just mutters a low curse when he sees the lingerie and reaches for me, hooks them to the side as I straddle his lap and sink down onto him.
It抯 torturous, the not kissing. Not tugging into each other抯 hair, simply watching each other抯 expressions, watching where our bodies meet and slide. Trying to come undone while staying so very put together adds a sharp edge to it that rapidly gets difficult to skate. My feet won抰 reach the ground, so he抯 forced to bear the brunt of the work as he pumps and pistons me against him, working out a hypnotic rhythm. His chin dips as he slows, lifting me with a wicked, leisurely curl. 揟ouch yourself.?He quietly commands. And so I do, while he gazes at me intently. There抯 heat in it, and wonder, and agony, and love. A tear leaks out of my eye when I find my release, his lashes fan against his flushed cheeks when he does immediately after.
I make a note to remember how many times I feel beautiful with him tonight. Not only when he tells me that I am, repeatedly, but all the other moments in between. From fucking on that dining chair, to him zipping me into my silvery dress, sweeping the curtain of my hair over a shoulder and kissing the nape of my neck before we leave hand in hand.
When we smile easily and pose for photographs. Some together, others with Kara and Shauna. When we slip up the carpeted stairs inside the venue to our balcony seats where we watch Shauna抯 movie; me snort-laughing, Meyer letting out the occasional chuckle through his nose and shaking his head.
There抯 the moment he surprises a delighted shriek out of me when he hops gingerly onto the banister on our way out, sliding sideways with his arms in the air, feet kicked out for balance.