He called me Wednesday.
After three weeks of being engaged, Cain was finally reaching out to me by phone instead of just barging into my world.
I almost didn't answer. I was in the middle of getting dressed to leave, but I thought better of ignoring Cain's call. It was better to speak now, than risk him coming over while I was out.
I was lying too much these days and I needed to get a hold of it.
Still, that didn't mean I had to be nice.
"What?" I snapped into my phone as I picked up the call.
A sharp whistle greeted my ear, prompting me to pull the device away for a moment. "You're mighty bold over the phone."
Cain.
Even though we'd had a few encounters where we spoke to each other, there was something more intimate about a phone call. About his voice in my ear. Privately.
Cain's voice was melodic, calm, and confident. It was rich and young, smooth and pleasant—a grave stark contrast to who he was as a person. But then, it wasn't. I thought of Cain: tall, lean, blemish-free dark brown skin, handsome in the classic kind of way, and then there was that voice. In all honesty, he was the perfect honey trap.
Only, I wasn't taking the bait.
"Yeah, well, what can I say, you bring it out of me," I replied.
I could hear the smile in his voice as he asked, "Busy?"
I sat down on my ottoman at the foot of my bed and pulled on the garden shoes I'd bought for the day's task. I hadn't a clue on what I was doing as far as manual labor went, but I was dressed for the occasion. "Yes."
"And this weekend," Cain went on. "You're getting a wax?"
That had been a sarcastic throwaway comment. I didn't really wax. Laser hair removal was my go-to method for unwanted hair. It lasted longer and left my skin silky as a result.
Because I was trying to cut back on the lying, I decided to throw Cain a bone. "No, I was only joking."
"So, you're free? I want to get together and have a night in with you," Cain said, sounding hopeful. "If it won't be any inconvenience."
Like this engagement? "I guess I can move some things around, just for you."
"Saturday night sound good?"
"Can't wait," I said dryly.
"Hmm." He hummed into my ear. "Starting to sound like I'm growing on you."
"I'm pretty sure I'll never like you, Cain," I let out.
He chuckled. "Never say never, Wife."
"Stop, you're giving me a wettie," I said sardonically.
Cain's response was a laugh. "I'll see you Saturday night."
We hung up and I shook away the shudders that came with the thought of alone time with that man.
I wasn't looking forward to it, but I decided it was best to put it on the backburner as I gathered myself together and exited my suite.
Along the way to Keith's I made a tiny pitstop at the grocery store for water since we'd be in the sun all day. It was only sixty-five out, but it was better safe than sorry.
While I'd never really worked a day in my life, I was excited for this venture. It was only partly bittersweet when I considered those times in my youth when I'd walk barefoot in our backyard and along my father's garden holding his hand. He was a white-collar man, but I'd always admired his hobbies of gardening, and even hunting. His need to get his hands dirty.
I'd never felt more like his daughter than I did when I pulled into Keith's driveway beside his Tahoe.
Keith was out front when I pulled in, doing work in the plants by his front step. The sight of him gave me butterflies. To compose myself, I got out of my Lexus and quicky got busy digging in my backseat for my shopping bags. Anything other than obsess over Keith in a white tee and camo pants. The T-shirt did nothing but hug his broad back and emphasize his toned arms littered in ink. The absence of a baseball cap only brought attention to his handsome yet angry scowl.
Music was playing from a wireless speaker I noticed as I got out of my car and grew courage to face Keith. Something told me it was old school by the rapper's cadence and the beat.
I bobbed my head to the melody, liking what I was hearing. "Who is this?"
It was as if my words had fallen upon deaf ears. Keith was kneeling there, squinting up me, his dark eyes taking me in slow. What more, he stood and came closer, silently appraising me even more.
Swallowing, I stood back and watched him assess me, feeling squirmy under his scrutiny.
It wasn't lost on me that my outfit of choice made me standout, as I had when I'd gone and purchased a couple of waters from the store. For the day's task, I wore a pair of dark gray overalls, a cream-colored long-sleeved thermal, garden shoes, and I topped it off with a floppy sun hat.
"I...I wanted to look the part," I confessed.
Keith bobbed his head, and I hated not knowing what he was thinking the longer he looked at me. Not knowing if I looked ridiculous. Not knowing why I cared if he thought I did.
I lifted my arm and the grocery bag that was dangling on it. "I brought water...and gloves."
Keith's gaze landed on the blue plastic bag in my possession. "I have water."
"But not Waiakea water. It's my favorite." I went and pulled out a greenish-blue bottle and held it up. "It's Hawaiian volcanic water. So good."
Keith accepted my water and mumbled a thank you, all the while stealing peeks at my outfit, and my hat.
"So," I smiled shyly, "who is this?"
Keith shook his head. "You don't know Heavy D?"
The name sounded a little familiar, but I couldn't place a face. "Guess not."
Keith turned, looking over at his speaker that was set up on his front step. "It's a station dedicated to old hip-hop and R&B." He came back to me. "Shouldn't be too much violence."
"Good," I said. I dug into my bag and pulled out my gray and blue gardening gloves I'd bought. "Shall we?"
Keith peeled his attention from me and glanced at his house. "I just finished with the front, let's head on to the back."
Even though Keith's house wasn't large or massive, he still held an incredible size backyard to take care of.
I stood beside him and wiggled my fingers into my gloves, something that made him snort.
"What?" I asked.
Keith eyed my hands. "Smart move on the gloves."
"I set a nail and hair appointment tomorrow," I let him know. "Just in case."
"Of course," he muttered.
Keith took our waters and set them inside to stay cool while we worked up a thirst.
First up, he was insistent on teaching me how to mow a lawn. A task that seemed daunting. Perhaps I was overthinking, but I couldn't help imagining how many toes or entire feet were lost in lawn mowing related injuries a year.
I liked to think I had pretty feet.
Wiggling my toes in my shoes, I faced Keith apprehensively. "Yeah?"
"It's nothing to it," Keith assured as he guided me in front of the bright green mower. Unlike at my parents' house, his yard wasn't for a riding mower, but a push mower. "Some people use gas mowers, and some use electric. This is a gas powered one. Kinda old school, but it gets the job done best."
Mentally, I penciled this information down. If ever I purchase a home, get a gas running lawn mower.
Keith went forth and instructed me on each individual part, the control bar, the engine start lever, the recoil start and so on. It all sounded simple enough, until he wanted me to go and power on the mower.
I followed the steps from his brief tutorial, except when I went to pull the cord, the lawn mower didn't come to life. I yanked again. And again. And again, nearly ripping my arm out of the socket.
I groaned. "Dammit."
Tapping at my hip whirled me around as Keith came and helped me. With ease, he pulled the chord and the lawn mower started. He stepped back, out of the way, allowing me to take over.
Tentatively, I stepped up to the machine and gulped. This whole thing was to teach me to fend for myself, in case of emergencies—but surely if I ever did hit rock bottom I could scrape up a few coins enough to pay someone to handle my yard, right?
Better yet, I would just live in an apartment. Problem solved.
My hands shook as I put them on the bar. Suddenly, Keith's much larger hands were on either side of mine as his chest brushed against my back. All at once my anxiety slipped away at the sense of his nearness. His hands were on mine as he walked with me, helping me mow my first patch of grass. The lawn mower vibrated in my palms and it was a little heavy for a beginner like me, but it otherwise wasn't so arduous.
Still, I faked uncertainty, just to have Keith close, just to feel him against me, teaching me.
Together we mowed a line from his house to the back fence.
"Try to get all straight lines," Keith said into my ear before releasing me to do another row on my own.
Internally, I pouted at his absence, but I faced the task head-on. I wanted to make him proud, and most of all, I wanted to accomplish this to prove to myself that I could.
Even still, Keith only let me mow so much of his yard before he swooped in to finish. He did his lines with precision and expertise. It was okay, though, because he didn't go over my work. My lines were fine and even, making me proud.
Next, he taught me to immediately empty the bag, so that the next time I went to mow my lawn I wouldn't encounter a full bag and potentially have to stop and empty it while I was mowing. From there he taught me how to trim hedges, when to water the grass, when to fertilize, and then we got down to weed by his poinsettias arranged by his back patio.
Keith weeded on one end of the patch of flowers while I worked on the other. His wireless speaker sat on the back porch, playing more old school hip-hop and R&B. An old Case song was playing, its melancholy content ruining my mood. "Missing You" was always such an emotional ballad.
To ignore the song playing, I began talking, anything to block out those lyrics. "So, have you lived here your whole life?"
Silence met my question for a moment and I briefly realized we were breaking another rule. We weren't supposed to get to know each other. Then again, we weren't supposed to do lawn work either, but here we were, thanks to me.
I looked over, finding Keith running his hand over his right arm, where that BH landscape tattoo was embedded in his skin. A declaration of love for his city. "Yeah. It's tough as shit at times, but ain't no place I'd rather be. I love the Heights."
His words echoed Jadyn's through and through. It was another driving force in why she wanted to write films about Black women in the hood existing and experiencing life, because she loved the world of Bedford Heights so much.
"I love it here, too," I whispered.
"You do?" Of course Keith had heard me.
"Things are so low key here. I can go out for lunch without someone snapping a photo or hounding me about my personal life. When I'm home, I always have to watch my back," I said. "Being my father's daughter comes with somewhat of a spotlight, but when I dated my ex, Guy, that's when I really rose to social media fame."
"Guy?" Keith repeated curiously.
"Yeah." I nodded bitterly. "He's, uh, a player for the Long Beach Sharks, actually."
Keith paused and I felt him look at me. "A NFL player, huh? Your dad like him?"
"My parents loved Guy, and his liked me, too. We were together for two years, so it was a pretty close relationship."
"And before him?"
I shrugged. "In high school I dated some kids of my dad's friends, and in college I hooked up a little before I got with Gaius. Guy was my first real relationship. I, uh, got lucky, I guess."
"How so? Because he was a big shot?"
I wrinkled my nose. Gaius's being a rookie to the NFL didn't faze me. Money didn't matter to me, as privileged as it sounded. Cain was incredibly wealthy after inheriting his father's casino, and who knew what lay ahead come this venture with Nichols & Wagner. But Cain himself wasn't it for me. I didn't like feeling owned. I didn't like living in fear around him. "Because he was good to me. My best friend has had her share of assholes and losers, and I guess I'm fortunate to not have had a heartbreak."
My voice shook and I blinked to conceal the tears that were forming in my eyes.
I heard the moment Keith stopped pulling weeds and completely focused on me.
Now so wasn't the time to get in my feelings.
"Kennedy?" he pressed gently.
I shook my head, squeezing my eyes shut to will those ugly thoughts and tears away. The guilt had crept up on me ever so slowly until it was staring me in the face. Maybe...maybe I deserved what was happening with Cain.
"Do...do you want to get married? Someday?" I voiced instead.
Keith's eyes narrowed, slight agitation rolling off his person just then at my topic switch. I hadn't fooled him one bit. He looked elsewhere, scratching at his neck. "I wanted to marry my ex. That didn't work out so well."
Just like that disgust settled in my mouth. I was sure Keith wasn't perfect, but still, I loathed his ex for making him feel worthless. Like he wasn't good enough. Nobody deserved that.
Pot, kettle, Kennedy?
"She missed out," I said as I struggled to clear my voice. I lazily pulled at nearby weed and focused on the chore. "My ex talked about marriage. I did love him, but I was twenty-two with what felt like the whole world watching me and I just wasn't sure. So, I let him down gently and fast forward to now and I guess I got what was coming.
"I had a man I loved and I broke his heart, and now I'm stuck with a man who treats me like an acquisition." I let out a pitiful laugh. "And the crazy thing is, I'm not even worth it. Like at all."
"You're too hard on yourself," Keith spoke up. He almost sounded annoyed at my self-deprecating.
"Think so?" I asked as I pulled myself together.
"Know so. That weird ass fiancé of yours doesn't deserve you. Besides, that situation with your ex was two years ago," Keith pointed out. "You're twenty-four now. Do you know what you want?"
Honestly, I didn't. Before, I'd always been fine with my schedule of yoga, hanging out with Jay, and spending time with my family. I admired that Jadyn aspired to be a fierce woman behind a camera, but I was okay with not doing anything as highbrow with my life. "Not really. You're twenty-nine, know what you want?"
Keith peered over at me, straight into my eyes, right into my soul as he spoke. "A family."
"You want kids?" I probed further.
Keith shrugged. "I'm not too sure about that. A family could be just me and the right woman. That's enough for me. I'm never going to be a white-collar type of guy. I'm not going to be big time. I'm okay with this, where I'm at and what I have. I love my job, I love my family, and I love my friends. It'd be nice, you know, to just have a woman. A house is not a home without one. I can live alone, but I'd rather share my life with someone."
A strange prickling bubbled inside of me at the thought of him getting that. Of him meeting another woman. Of him wrapping her in his strong arms. Of him breaking that angry face just to smile at her and laugh.
I hated the idea.
"See, your ex was wrong about you. You're a good man. But me?" I shook my head, trying to shake the feelings of inadequacy away. "Do you think I'm worth this much effort, Keith?"
"That's not a fair question," Keith responded. "You won't let me in." He ran his arm across his forehead to rid it of sweat before getting back to his work. "On the surface, you've got this prim and proper look about you, but then you're silly, nice, and you're not judgmental. If you would've asked me the night we met if I ever saw Little Miss 'This is Valentino' willingly getting down to weed, I would've laughed. Yet, you're out here, willing to learn, willing to do some work, and I'm impressed.
"What I do know, is that you're worth the chase, worth an effort of getting to know. You're carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders with this bogus deal you got goin' on, but you're doin' it with a smile. And as pretty as that smile is, it doesn't compare to the one where you let your guard down, when you're carefree."
I forgot how to breathe as his words wrapped me in a blanket of solace.
He was right, but he was wrong, too.
I didn't truly know him, but what I saw so far, I liked...a lot.
Keith was angry and quiet, but then the closer I got, I marveled at his gentle side, at his strength, at the way he loved his city enough to give back.
I wouldn't tell him, but I liked the way he didn't apologize when he was standing up to me. Calling me out on my brattiness.
It was ridiculously absurd to think about not being with a gentleman, but I liked that Keith didn't sweep me off my feet and pamper me too much.
Fragile. To everyone else, I'd always been treated and seen as a princess. Handled with care and a delicateness as if I'd break. Not Keith.
"Thank you," I told him, feeling myself smile and calm down. "Weeding isn't so bad actually. I wish you had more flowers."
Keith settled down as well. "Yeah?"
And then, because we'd already blurred that line, I spoke about my childhood. "When I was little, and my father had the time, he used to tend to his tulip garden. I used to hold his hand and walk beside him whenever he was taking a stroll for inspection." Tears threatened to fall as I thought of the future. "Even though I'm so mad at him, someday, I'd like to have a house of my own and plant tulips in his honor."
Keith was closer now, using his knuckle to catch a fallen tear. "What's your favorite color of tulips?"
"White," I confessed.
Somehow, Keith smiled a little. "Of course."
I didn't get it, but I didn't care. I was just happy he was near.
"Keith?"
A woman's voice sounded out beside us, drawing our attention to the left. An older woman was standing there, carrying a large casserole dish with some Tupperware on top. Her graying braids were pulled back out of her face, leaving the curious expression on it to be seen. She was staring at me, as if I were a foreign concept at Keith's home.
By some instinct, I knew. This was Keith's mother.
"Shit." He mumbled beside me before shooting up and going over to the woman. He ushered her more towards the driveway, away from me.
I couldn't be mad at him. There was no way to really introduce me. Was it socially acceptable to introduce your parents to your fuck buddy?
My own mother would have a conniption and my father would want to wring Keith's neck out. They would like him, though. I was sure. If Cain wasn't in the picture, I was positive my parents would like Keith. Manners, protective, honest, and hardworking.
At least, that's how I always perceived my parents before my father made it clear he wanted me to be well-off even after he was gone. As if my inheritance wasn't enough.
Keith quietly spoke with the woman who he looked nothing like. Her complexion was closer to my own than his soft brown skin, her gentle but serious face was so different from Keith's often angry one, and where her son towered over her with his six-foot-three height, she was a good five-seven at the most.
Still, there was no missing the love between them. Her, a concerned parent, and Keith, an adoring son. They hugged after she handed over the food. Despite no introductions, the woman offered me a tightlipped smile and a wave before disappearing down the driveway.
Keith came over carrying the food and one good whiff of it had me realizing I was starving.
"I'll finish the rest of this later," Keith said.
I didn't want to leave him hanging. "You sure?"
"Yeah, it's not much left. You did good today."
I had worked hard and I felt it in my sore arms. "Thank you, for showing me the way."
"Never a problem." Keith gestured with his head towards his house. "Let's get cleaned up. I'll fix the fish I took out for you."
I bit my lip. He was always going out of his way for me. "You didn't have to do that."
Keith made a face. "I wanted to."
A fuzzy sensation buzzed inside of me as I stood up. "Okay."
"I was planning on grilling, but I'm not passin' on my mom's cooking," Keith said as he led us up the back patio steps. He passed me the keys to let us in as he carefully leaned down and turned off the speaker, abruptly putting an end to Jill Scott.
I unlocked his backdoor and stepped into his bedroom, the smell of him hitting me at once. Cozy. That's how Keith smelled.
I set my hat down on his dresser beside one of his baseball caps. A nearby mirror illustrated my hat hair, but I was too worn out to care about my appearance.
Keith came past me and I followed him out to his kitchen.
"That food smells amazing," I said as I watched him set it on the island.
He glanced at me with pride. "My mom's famous Marry Me Chicken, with a side of angel hair pasta."
It was too ironic of a name not to laugh. "Gonna share?"
Keith frowned. "I don't wanna put you out. I got some grouper."
I did love grouper, but that chicken smelled delicious. "I want the chicken. It smells good. It's been a while since I've had any. Besides, if you told me you were grilling, I would've brought over some salmon hot dogs."
All at once Keith's face fell. "Salmon what?"
I chuckled. That was exactly Jadyn's reaction when I discovered the food. "You heard me. Salmon hot dogs, they're good."
Keith wrinkled his nose as he came past me for the sink. He grabbed the bar of soap and began lathering his hands. "Shit sounds nasty."
I went up beside him, poking him in his ribs. "You would've tried them."
Keith was quick to shake his head. "Hell no."
Pouting, I gave him the puppy dog eyes. "For me?"
Once more, he made a face and rolled his eyes, before giving in. But not without slapping my butt. "Fine."
The goofiest smile crept across my face and I said nothing further.
We got cleaned up before settling down in his dining room and helping ourselves to his mother's prepared meal. Sundried tomatoes in a thick and creamy parmesan sauce, the Marry Me Chicken was to die for. I ate like I hadn't eaten in years and I wasn't ashamed. I had to try this with fish.
"Okay, this is the first recipe you have to teach me," I declared as I ate another serving of pasta.
Keith forked at his chicken. "I change my mind about that."
I paused. "What do you mean?"
"You can take a cooking class," he said simply. "Besides, I could replicate this meal, but my mom's the master at it."
He didn't want to teach me to cook anymore. He was right about me taking a class, where I could learn to create all kinds of dishes, but the stab of his refusal sank deep.
"Okay," I responded. I let it go and moved on. "Still, did she teach you how to cook?"
Keith took a swig of his water and nodded. "Yeah, her and my grandma."
"Was it just you three growing up?"
"Yeah, my grandfather died when I was a kid. Complications from cancer, if I'm remembering right," Keith went on. "My foundation and my roots are definitely my mom, my grandmother and my uncle Rod."
I all but abandoned my food as he began telling me about some mishap from his youth that involved him eating all of his grandmother's ham and her teaching him how to make it to replace it.
I liked hearing Keith talk. The steady timbre of his deep voice telling me anecdote after anecdote never got old.
Before long, though, my eyelids grew heavy and I couldn't stop myself from letting out a few yawns.
"I should get going," I said as I covered my mouth on my fifth yawn.
Keith stood and collected our plates. "You should stay the night. You're tired."
"It's not that long of a drive," I assured him.
"I'm not letting you take that risk," Keith said adamantly.
I fingered the condensation on my glass of water. "Don't boss me around."
His hand was in my hair, his fingers grazing my scalp as he tilted my head back. Peering into his eyes, I knew then I didn't want to leave. "Please stay? I don't know what I'd do if you fell asleep at the wheel and got hurt."
How could I ever go just then? "Okay."
"I'll sleep on the couch. You can shower and take my bed. I'll even wash those clothes for you." Keith was out of the room taking our dishes to the sink before I could respond.
One minute he was close, and the next he was distant. I didn't like it. It was probably for our own good. To sleep separately, but I didn't want it.
Keith was right, though. As I dragged myself to his bedroom, I found it hard to keep my eyes open. The idea of stripping down and showering even sounded like too much work. His bed was all too inviting, but my clothes were dirty and I was sweaty. I didn't want to soil his sheets.
So I did the next best thing, I got down on the floor, folded my arms and rested, prepared for sleep.
I had barely drifted off when I heard his heavy footsteps entering the room.
"What are you doing on the floor, Kenny?" His tone was amused, yet it was doused in a sleepiness that sent warmth below my belly. Something like syrup came to mind of just how sticky his voice was to the ear.
Kenny. He'd called me Kenny in such a way I wasn't surprised at the goose bumps littering across my skin.
"I didn't want to get your bed dirty," I reasoned.
"So you get my floor dirty instead?"
Peeking one eye open, I nodded at him. "Uh-huh."
He tried to hide his smile, but failed. In another moment, he was crouching down, flipping me over onto my back and taking off my shoes and socks. Next, he was undoing my overall straps. He pulled them from my body before reaching out and picking me up as if I weighed nothing. I didn't mind at all as he carried me over to his attached bathroom.
Inside he set me on the counter and tapped my arm, indicating for me to raise my arms so he could remove my thermal. I did as instructed and when I thought he'd take off my bra next, he moved on to a drawer under his counter. He procured a brush, and then a beige bandana.
"Don't quite have a shower cap for your hair or a scarf. Unless you want a durag?" Keith asked.
I shook my head.
Keith accepted my response and quietly he began brushing back my hair, gently getting my edges and making sure every strand along the way was accounted for. He worked meticulously, and I admired him as he did so, especially when he secured my hair into a neat bun at the back of my head before tying down the bandana.
It was the most intimate thing, putting yet another crack in our fling.
When he was done with my hair, his eyes settled on mine. So serious. So mature. So...Keith.
Boldly, I reached out, running my fingers down his lips. "I like seeing you smile."
Keith bit my fingers gently. "What else do you like about me?"
A dark fog soaked the air between us.
"Everything," I breathed out.
"Everything?"
"Uh-huh." I nodded. "The sound of your voice makes me wet. Being in your arms makes me feel protected. Having you teach me makes me feel smarter."
Keith's eyes drifted to my lips as I spoke and mine trailed to his.
I wanted to taste his mouth. Badly.
Deep in my belly I knew it'd be addictive. Almost as addictive as it was being around him, learning him. This blue-collar man's-man who was entirely different from what I was used to.
There on the counter in just my green lace panties and bra, I was ready to surrender my body to him.
"Teach me how to cook, please?" I blurted out.
Those arms of his trapped me as his hands came down on either side of me. He leaned in, shaking his head. "You make all these rules, and you're steady breaking every one."
I was horrible and I couldn't deny it. I had no sense of self-control with Keith.
"I'll pay you," I offered.
Keith smirked. "No thanks."
Reaching behind myself, I unclasped my bra and let it slide to the floor. Resting back on my hands, feeling my chest rise and fall with Keith's total attention, I licked my lips. "I don't want to take a class. I want you."
Keith barely gazed at my breasts before his hard stare focused on mine.
"I'll teach you everything you want to know and should know," he said in the end.
Greedily, I perked up and grinned. "Teach me how to kiss, I'm awful."
A lazy haze coasted in Keith's eyes and I felt the atmosphere shift.
His rough palm cupped my jaw as he ran his thumb across my lips. His dark eyes were glued to the movement, lost in concentration. In another moment, he dipped his thumb into my mouth. Instinctively, I sucked on it, slow, feeling my thighs clench when he pulled it out.
Keith watched his thumb escape my mouth, but not without my flicking my tongue across it first. He removed his thumb and ran it across my lip again.
His eyes found mine.
"I want to, you know," I said.
"I know," he said.
Keith stepped closer, holding onto my waist as he leaned down and pressed his lips to my shoulder.
Oof.
Tender. His lips grazed my skin and his five o'clock shadow scrubbed the surface next.
Aching. I was aching for this man. I wanted it all. His touch. His kiss. His feel. Everything.
But he gave me nothing as he reeled back and stepped away. "I'll kiss you when it's time to say goodbye."
A sadness formed in my belly at the idea. A bittersweet kiss that would be.
"Okay," I said. "Let's hop in the shower."
Keith backed off as he picked up my shirt and bra. "You go first. I'll clean up and wait my turn."
"Really?"
He held his hand out my remaining articles of clothing. "Too tempting, and I'm not a fan of condoms and water."
I almost wanted to tell him one wouldn't be necessary since I was on the pill, but that was a level of closeness we didn't need. One that would destroy what little line we had left.
I let it go and shimmied out of my panties and handed them over.
There was a ticking clock above our heads and there was nothing neither of us could do about it. With or without that gaudy ring on my finger, I was marked for another man whether I liked it or not.
Keith knew it, and so did I.
But that didn't mean we couldn't get our fill of each other before the end.
"I know I'm cuddly, but I promise if we go to bed together you won't fall in love with me," I teased.
A ghost of a smile had a corner of Keith's mouth twitching. "You stay on your side and I'll stay on mine."
"Deal!" I jumped at the opportunity.
Keith snickered as he took my clothes and left me alone to shower.
I went into his standing shower and closed the door behind me. Alone with my thoughts. Just me, myself, and I.
That Case song came to mind, making me sad. I never wanted to miss him. I wasn't prepared for the day that I would. For the day we would inevitably say goodbye.
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