A bouquet of gardenias, roses and birds of paradise are delivered to the apartment a few days after the gala. The multitude of colors brighten the dreary, gray day. The heat wave finally broke following the fat rain drops that have been steadily falling for three days. Traveling by foot and subway is normally treacherous, but in the rain with the numerous little ponds, known as potholes, it turns to every pedestrian’s worst nightmare. The city has not fixed them from the snowy winter this past year.
The flowers find a new home on the kitchen counter. Our small two-bedroom apartment’s kitchen is more like a closet than an actual kitchen, but we make due. The rent control and large living space make up for the kitchen. We can usually have twenty people over and not feel the pinch of space, as long as we stay out of the bedrooms and kitchen.
The bouquet was delivered without a note. The florist could not give me any information as to who sent them, but insists there was a card with the bouquet when they left her store. It isn’t until I lift the perfect bronze colored rose to smell it that I notice a little scroll attached to the rose with a ribbon.
I untie the ribbon to reveal elegant penmanship. The note is short and simple, but what it lacks in wording it provides in a powerful punch by who authored it.
Thank you for a wonderful dance.
You have me under your spell.
I hope for another in the near future.
D. A.
There is only one D. A. I know of with whom I have danced with recently. Daniel Ashbrooke. But how did he find out where I live? My head has been in the clouds since the gala, dreaming about this beautiful man and haunting fairytales about faraway places that his accent invoked. Dante walks through the door noticing my dazed expression.
“Honey, are you okay?”
His question is laced with concern as he places his keys on the table next to the door before removing his raincoat.
“Ah, I don’t know.” I shake my head. “I mean, yes, I’m okay but I don’t know if I will ever be the same again. Here look.”
I move out of the way so he can see the flowers.
“Oh, they’re beautiful. Who sent them?” He asks, walking over to smell them.
“Well, you see that’s the shocking part. Read the card.”
Calling it a card isn’t befitting. His head snaps up after reading it.
“D. A. as in Daniel Ashbrooke. That D. A.? The hottie from the gala? The one you’ve been moping around about?”
“I haven’t been moping.” I reply indignantly.
“Aha. Yeah. Whatever.” He replies, ignoring me.
“Aren’t you wondering how he got our address?” I question.
“Who knows? Anything can be found with enough money.” He states matter of fact.
“Okay, but why? It was just a dance. It’s weird. And…, I don’t know, wrong.”
“Yeah, right. Obviously, it was more.” He responds while moving food around in the refrigerator. “We need to get some food. There’s something green in here. Gross.”
“We’ll go to the store later. Throw out the green thing. What are we doing tonight?” I say, dropping the subject of Daniel.
Dante steps back holding the offending green item pinched between his thumb and pointer finger as far away from his body as possible. The smell is too much as he passes me.
“Take the garbage out now!” I gag, reaching pass him for the room deodorizer.
“I was talking with Rachel about a new club that opened. She gave me directions to where it is tonight. Every week it changes locations.”
“Really?” I ask intrigued.
Clubs that usually change locations are the ones we have the most fun in. Sometimes, physically getting there is half the fun. They are like mini adventures or scavenger hunts. A few of them required us to bring pieces of the scavenger hunt with us as a cover charge.
“I’m in.” I reply before the door slams behind him.
I follow his path to the door spraying deodorizer.
“Good that’s what I told her. She wants us to meet her there.” He answers, walking through the misty cloud, coughing.
“What time?”
“I’m starving. Can you get ready soon so we can stop and get something to eat before?” He’s still looking for something to eat.
“You’re asking me? You’re the one who takes hours to get ready.”
“Ha, ha, ha. Make fun of the homosexual. What are you going to wear?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll find something. What about you?”
He tsks me.
“I have a new pair of leather pants I want to try out.” He slides his hands down his thighs, purring as they move.
I giggle at him and his return smile is bright.
The black, knee length, pencil skirt paired with a yellow, halter neck shirt reveals the right amount of skin. It’s sexy, but not slutty. Gladiator sandals make it look perfect, even better then when I tried it on originally. Dante comes out in dark red, leather pants. I should never doubt Dante’s taste in clothing. The pants, combat boots and black ripped tee shirt make him look irresistible.
“Wow.” I say when he walks out. “I’d hit on you. Be careful girls,” I lick my finger then touch his arm making a sizzling sound, “he’s too hot.”
“I know, right? Back at you, girl. I’ll be fighting the men off tonight.”
“Let’s go. I want to find it sometime tonight.”
The rain stopped while we were getting ready. The ground is saturated and over flowing in the streets. We have ump over many puddles along the way. The humidity is gone replaced by a light breeze.
We finally arrive at the club shortly before midnight. The scavenger hunt took longer than we planned, but we guaranteed our free entry by finding the prize. The club itself is great. The cops would never think to look in the observation room of an old abandoned teaching hospital. The city is full of these types of buildings. The strobe lights reflecting off the stainless-steel pieces offer more lighting and reveal the wall-to-wall people.
The energy vibrating off the inhabitants make my body feel like a live wire. A hoard of gyrators dance on the make shift dance floor. The cries of the gyrators are drowned out by the pumping music. Rachel is among the gyrators waiting for us when we enter.
“Hey guys. This is Justin’s big night.” She yells over the music, hugging both of us.
“I didn’t know he was performing tonight. Did you Dante?” I ask, staring daggers at him.
Dante shakes his head no.
Justin has been Rachel’s boyfriend as long as we have known them. They met on the street as runaways. We met them on the streets after we were listed as runaways ourselves by child protective services. Justin is part of a new rock band that creates something that sounds more like noise than music. He and Josh, another friend who is married to Trish a girl we work with, are in the band together. The music they make is not a genre we like. It’s more like an acquired taste- one that Dante and I have yet to acquire. Instead, it gives us a headache for days on end. Dante and I suffer through it because they are good friends.
“Thanks for thinking of us.” Dante says sweetly.
The band is tuning their instruments on the make shift stage. Rachel physically pulls me along with Dante trailing us. Justin glances at the three of us, smiling. He puts his guitar down and jumps off the stage.
“Hey man.” Justin greets Dante, shaking his hand.
Dante shakes it more stiffly than normal. He nods at Justin distractedly. Justin doesn’t notice and continues talking. I look at Dante questioning his rude behavior. His barely there nod only registers when I follow his line of sight. I see two guys staring at us. I think I should know who they are, but can’t place their faces.
I lean into him whispering loudly in his ear. “Who are they?”
Justin interrupts us by hugging and kissing me.
“Oh, hi. We’re touchy feely tonight.” I joke.
“Yeah. I’m stoked you guys came. How are you?”
Justin climbs back on stage, not listening to my answer, which is good because I’m busy trying to figure out who those guys are. Justin strumming his guitar falls into the background.
Dante leans in. “You do, but the last time we saw them they were being taken away by child protective services while their mother was arrested for abusing and neglecting her foster children.”
“Oh, shit.” I respond, shocked looking back at them.
Mrs. Johnson’s trial made the local news about the horrid conditions the foster children in her care were found in. While Mrs. Johnson was in jail, one of the mothers whose child she was responsible for started a fight in which Mrs. Johnson was fatally wounded. Scott and Richard were taken in by an uncle, who I heard treated them the way Mrs. Johnson treated her foster kids. It seems a lifetime ago, but in truth it was only five years ago
“Yeah, oh shit. It looks like they remember us as well.” He surmises as we watch them stare back at us, lips moving.
“What do you want to do?” I ask, worried our night is about to be cut short.
“Nothing for now. Let’s see what happens.” He replies, scouting the layout of the place.
“Are you sure?”
“Don’t go anywhere, and I mean anywhere, without me. Got it?” He demands forcibly.
“Yes.” I say, rolling my eyes.
He looks back at me sternly, grabbing my chin. “I mean it.”
“Fine.” I huff, pulling my chin out of his grasp.
The band starts playing. Dante, Rachel and I sway to the sound. Rachel looks over at me smiling proudly. Love must be deaf also, but I give him credit for chasing after his dreams.
I yell in Rachel’s ear, “They’ve been practicing.”
“Yeah, he’s been spending more time with the band than me recently. They’re trying to cut a demo for the radio stations.” She replies, excitement ringing in her voice.
“Tell him I said good luck.” The drinks I’ve had since we arrived need to make an exit. “Do you want to go to the bathroom?”
“No, I need to stay here. He doesn’t want me out of his sight for some reason.” She says doing the little dance that all women have done at one point when our bladders are overfull.
“Are you sure?”
She nods.
“Okay, I’ll see if Dante needs to go. I’ll be right back.”
I see Dante a few feet away talking to a guy. He doesn’t see me coming towards him. I am soon swallowed up in the crowd while I try in vain to get to him. Someone grabs my right elbow and another person grabs the left. I look up to see Scott and Richard sneering down at me.
Shit!
I start struggling to free myself. They tighten their grip painfully. I scream, but it goes unheard by the loud music of Justin’s band. Dante doesn’t realize I’m gone. He is going to be angry at me, thinking I went somewhere without him. Why is this happening? I should have stayed where I was until he came back, bladder be damned.
Richard’s grip suddenly goes slack then is no longer holding my elbow. I look to my right and see him holding his nose as it gushes blood. Scott looks to see what happened, but he too is gone. I’m left stunned and scared, but relieved none the less. Looking around in a circle, I can’t find who helped me.
Turning back around looking for Dante, I bump into a human wall. I look up to find Daniel staring back at me in what can only be described as a fit of fury, dangerous, dressed in all black from his slicked back hair, tight fitting tee shirt and painted on jeans. The leather boots add to the overall sinister aura surrounding him. Give him a black, leather trench coat instead of the bomber jacket he’s wearing and he’s the Angel of Death. Stormy, gray, blue eyes radiate anger, mostly directed at me.
Dante must feel my eyes on him because he turns to see us. Surprised, he starts in our direction.
“Some protector he is.” Daniel mutters to himself not expecting me to hear.
“Hey, this wasn’t his fault.”
“If not his, then whose? Yours?” His eyes roam my figure, undressing me. “You should be wearing more clothing.”
Taken aback by his statement and feeling slapped, I mutter wordlessly. “Huh?”
“You’re displaying your assets for all to see.” He replies, removing his jacket and placing it over my shoulders.
Is he for real?
The only asset, as he worded it, on display is some cleavage. Not enough to be indecent.
Sexy? Yes! Indecent? Not by a long shot.
More than half the girls here are wearing much less. I shrug off his jacket and hand it forcibly back to him, hitting him in the chest. My stomach does a flip flop as I briefly feel the taut muscles underneath. His nostrils flare.
“Look, I don’t know who you think you are to tell me how to dress, but my outfit is tame by most standards. Thank you for rescuing me, but I’m good now. You can go about your business.”
I try walking away but he grabs me by the elbow hauling me towards him, ignoring my protests and backing me into the nearest wall. Before I know it, his lips are on mine as his hands frame my face, holding me captive. The kiss is hard, wild, nipping, stoking a fire I never knew could exist. I am breathless when he pulls away. My legs refuse to cooperate and turn to jelly. He moves his hands to my waist and mine fall on the front of chest while I gain my equilibrium. He grabs my leg behind the knee and lifts it up, kissing me again. My skirt rides up as he presses himself into me. His body hides the indecent height of my skirt. He stops the kiss as abruptly as it started.
Dante finally makes it to us, looking as displeased with me as Daniel is with him.
“I told you not to go anywhere without me. What were you thinking?” Dante yells over the music.
I look between the two of them. They’re stare each other down. The hairs on the back of my neck go up as the air thickens with suppressed tension.
“Hey you two, enough with the macho bullshit. It wasn’t my fault that Scott and Richard tried to grab me.” I think my voice is drowned out by the music when they don’t answer me. “Dante, this is Daniel. Daniel, this is Dante.”
I make the introductions hoping to cut the tension.
“Daniel, why are you here? I wouldn’t think this was your scene. You seemed more refined than this.”
Neither of them acknowledges me as they continue staring each other down.
“Fine, I’m leaving.” I turn to walk away, hoping to find Rachel to say goodbye.
Daniel grabs my elbow, halting my retreat. I look at him then at his hand on me. He looks back at me daring me to question him. Out of my periphery, I see Dante step closer. Daniel must also sense Dante move because he growls. The testosterone level of these two is overwhelming. The three of us are caught in our own bubble, which is ready to pop at the slightest provocation.
“I’ll take you home.” Daniel states as fact, waiting for Dante to argue.
Dante tries to argue but Daniel is already pulling me towards the door, cutting any argument Dante may have had. I try pulling my arm out of his grasp, but fail miserably. His grip is like steel. I know if I struggle more Dante will become more enraged and then I won’t be able to control him. At this point I’m not sure who would win. Dante tries to keep up with us but the crowd swallows him.
“Hey, wait a minute. I am not going anywhere with you. How dare you think you have any right to make demands?”
Daniel’s grip tightens short of being painful, pissing me off even further. No need to worry about Dante becoming angrier because I’ll be there soon enough. I dig my heels in as we near the door. Daniel, feeling my resistance, tosses me over his shoulder without a care, like a bag of potatoes. I land with my face getting a perfect, up close view of his fine derriere.
My poor skirt doesn’t know where it should lay. The thing has ridden high up my thighs with all the struggling. People are staring and laughing at the spectacle, but when Daniel turns to look at them they shy away. I catch Dante pushing his way through the crowd.
The night air catches me under the skirt as we walk through the doors. I’m placed back on my feet near a motorcycle in the parking lot behind the abandoned building. I swear I nearly melted in my panties at the powerful, black motorcycle, ignoring the man standing next to it, who hands me a helmet and leather jacket.
“Put these on.” Daniel demands as I pull my skirt down.
Reluctantly, I do as I’m told realizing arguing would be fruitless. He mounts the bike and offers me his hand. I look at it skeptically, not knowing this guy from Adam. Why then, am I about to get on this death trap with him? Because it’s simple, deep down I know him like I know the sun will rise tomorrow. I don’t know how but I do.
Daniel won’t hurt me.
I hike my skirt up well above the knee, revealing more thigh than I would have liked, but this skirt was not made for riding a motorcycle. His eyes bug at the site of my legs. He adjusts his position on the bike. Nice to know I have the same effect on him as he has on me. I smile inwardly at this new power. Dante emerges from a different door then the one we used to exit, looking livid.
“Get on the bike now.” Daniel states in a menacing tone, glimpsing Dante.
When I hesitate a moment too long, he sneers. “If you don’t want me to hurt him, get on the fucking bike now.”
I quickly climb on and look back, pleading with my eyes for Dante not to follow. Obedience is not my strong suit but knowing someone I love may be hurt, I learn it fast. I know Dante and he won’t stop until he finds me. I shake my head and bring my hand to my head like a phone. He stops abruptly staring daggers at me but nods ever so slightly. Even though he does as I request, I can see by his clenched fists that this is far from over.
“Have you ever ridden on a bike before?” Daniel asks calmer after seeing Dante halt in his tracks.
I nod as I recall one of my most treasured memories. The escape I found on it was freeing. I wrap my arms around his waist and lift my legs to rest on the bars avoiding the exhaust. My thighs grip him tightly.
“Good, hold on tighter.”
As I tighten my grip, he accelerates to eighty miles per hour in less than sixty seconds.
God, I love this.
We drive for forty-five minutes before he stops and dismounts, offering me a hand. I straighten my skirt when I notice him staring at my bare legs again.
“You have great legs.” He mutters.
I look around feeling uncomfortable with the compliment and being in an unfamiliar situation. The air is saturated and tangy like salt water. The cityscape is barely discernible in the distance. A park with benches is offset by with a wooded area behind it. The moon is the only light available this late at night.
“Where are we?” I inquire trying to sound nonchalant.
I look at him expectantly, waiting for an answer and notice his brows scrunch together in deep thought.
“Why did you come tonight?” I ask brazenly.
“Honestly, I don’t know.” He answers sounding defeated.
My irritation grows anew with his answer. Seriously, how do you show up somewhere and not know why you are there?
“Take me home.”
“No, wait, hear me out.” Impatiently, I wait for him to continue. “I’m not sure why I came or why we’re here. All I know is that I have not been able to stop thinking about you since we danced. There is something too familiar about you. I can’t explain it but holding you during that dance felt right, like that’s where I was supposed to be.”
“It still doesn’t explain why we are here or why you acted the way you did back there.” I question him more irritated by his continued lack of explanation.
“I was coming by your house tonight to apologize for my abrupt departure the night of the gala and to talk when I saw you leaving. I was curious where you were going dressed that way.”
“That’s creepy. Tell me why I shouldn’t run now and call the cops.”
“Because I’m being honest with you.” He replies truthfully, but mutters, “A novelty for me.”
Flippantly, I retort, “You could be honest with me and tell me about your plan to killing me. What then?”
Daniel smiles at my smartass comment.
“Seriously, think about what you did and what you just told me?”
After a few more minutes, he answers. “Okay, I see your point but let me finish. I was about to approach you when those guys tried to grab you. I didn’t like someone else touching you. I’m sorry. Every time I try to explain, it sounds wrong. Can we start over please?”
I understand not being able to explain what you’re feeling because since I met him I feel the same. Mentally I sigh. He wants to start over. I can do it.
But do I want to?
I realize I don’t even have to think about it.
I hold out my hand in greeting. “My name is Daphne Michels and yours is?”
Daniel looks at my proffered hand then smiles brilliantly, taking my breath away. He takes my hand but instead of shaking it, he formally bows over it, kissing it.
“Daniel Ashbrooke, Duke of Balwart. A pleasure to meet you.”
I gasp, shocked by his title, “Uh…, what did you just say?”
“Daniel. Ignore the title.” He leans into to me conspiratorially and whispers. “I do, as often as I can.”
My jaw drops open as his hot breath whispers across my skin eliciting goose pimples in its wake. He places his fingers under my jaw. I snap it close and gulp. A Duke? Really? I mean look at the way he’s dressed. What respectable Duke dresses like this? The Duke of what?
Come on Daphne pay attention and get you head out of the clouds.
“I’m…, Where is B-.” I stammer, flabbergasted at the turn of events.
“Balwart. It’s a small duchy north of Scotland in a country called Farquadt. Most people have never heard of it. We keep to ourselves. Our history is long, dating back to the Celtic tribes. We were originally settled by the Vikings. My title goes back to the twelfth century.”
Oh. My. God. He’s serious.
Holy shit!
“Okay?” I say at a loss for words. “That’s hard to top. I’m a boring waitress at a no name diner. I hold no titles and own nothing but the clothing on my back. I don’t know how far back my family goes. In fact, I didn’t even know my parents. I mean…, that is, my mother died when I was six and my father is unknown.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m not. It’s a thing of the past. The only thing I have of my father is a birthmark. And my mother, well I didn’t really know her. Most of the memories I have are of her partying and getting high as often as she could. When she wasn’t, she was intense.”
The mood shifts to something more somber. I try to lighten it.
“Well, Duke of Balwart, this girl needs to get home. Unlike some of us, I have to work for living and unfortunately my shift starts at nine.” I joke.
“Sure, I understand.” He says looking at his Rolex. “I didn’t realize the time. I truly must apologize for my behavior earlier.”
“It’s okay.”
I’m doing the happy dance inside. He felt protective over me.
“Listen, I’d like to take you out sometime and get to know you better.” He prompts.
Daniel is a confusing man. Hi emotions are all over the place. One minute he’s angry, the next he’s shy then forward. I remind myself to be careful that he only wants to figure out how he knows me. That’s all, nothing else. Don’t start thinking about fantasies.
“Um, sure.”
Not really.
“Great.” He answers with vigor. “I have to head back to Balwart tomorrow to take care of some business, but I should return by the end of next week. How about next Sunday?”
“That’s perfect. I’m off Sunday nights.”
“Great. I’ll pick you up at seven.” He grabs the helmet, handing it to me.
Once I’m on the motorcycle snuggled behind him, my cheek resting against his back, he places my hands around his waist. I inhale his intoxicating scent of fresh water, leather and all male. The fire he started before with the kiss is slowly building again. The engine revs, vibrating between my legs. He squeezes my hands before we take off. The ride back to the house is faster than the ride out. Why is it when you want time to last longer, it tends to move faster?
The living room light is visible from the street when we arrive back. I can imagine what state Dante is in. Probably pacing the apartment, griping his hair with worry.
When I dismount the bike with Daniel’s help, he removes his helmet and shakes his hair loose. It falls to his shoulders in a tousled look. Sex on a stick is the first thought to enter my mind.
Hmm. I’ll take one of those to go please.
“Thank you for the unexpected ride and for rescuing me earlier.” I don’t want the night to end.
“You’re welcome. You should try to be a bit more careful though.”
I redden at his reprimand.
“Yeah, I know. They were the last people I expected to see.”
He looks questioningly at me.
“Story for another night. Well, good night and have a safe flight.”
Dante is about to give me a lecture on safety upstairs. I sigh and turn to leave but Daniel grabs my hand, stopping me. I turn back, looking at him. He pulls me towards him. I go willingly into his arms. He kisses me the way he did back in the club. Owning me is the only way to describe it. I’m flustered when I step back, breaking the kiss. My body’s reaction to his kisses is not something to take lightly. I don’t think I would have the strength to pull away again if he tried kissing me once more.
“Good night, Daphne. Pleasant dreams.” He smiles, knowing his effect on me.
I walk in a dreamlike state to the apartment building and hear him chuckling behind me as the door closes. This man is confident, something I find extremely sexy.
Dante is waiting up for me as expected. He starts ranting the moment the door closes. Nothing he says can break me out of my Daniel induced trance, even the strong emotions emanating from him.
“Where have you been? I’ve been worried sick.” Dante yells.
He encloses me in a fierce hug then steps back, gliding his hands over my person to ensure I am unhurt. I look at him through a haze of happiness, not able to speak yet.
“Are you okay? Why would you go off with someone you barely know? What’s wrong with you?” He continues without pausing for a breath.
The lecturing begins. He lectures me on the decisions he feels are wrong, but fails to see the decisions I make end up being the right ones for me.
“Hi.” I say ignoring his tirade.
I truly don’t have answers to his questions. I don’t know why I went with Daniel. I thought about not going initially but again, something about him felt right.
“What time did you get in?”
“What?” He says incited by my nonchalance. “That’s all you have to say?”
“I’m sorry. You’re right. I didn’t mean to scare you. Sit down and I’ll tell you everything.”
I grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator and ask him if he wants one by pointing to the bottle. He shakes his head no, indicating with a nod of his head to the mug on the coffee table. Once I’m seated on the couch next to him, I start retelling the events of the night from when Scott and Richard tried to grab me up until a few minutes ago.
“Fuckers need to be taught a lesson.” He blusters. “I need you to tell me if you see them again.”
“I don’t think we need to worry about them anymore. Daniel did a pretty bang up job of protecting me.”
I sigh dreamily again, shaking my head to clear it. I hate the way I lose all sane thought when I think of him. Daniel is distracting when physically present but now when he’s absent?
“Who does he think he is?” Dante says, anger emanating from his voice.
I blurt out, “Well, he thinks who he is because he’s a Duke.”
Dante snaps his head in my direction. His jaw slack and catching butterflies. It’s quite comical when Dante is caught by surprise. He blinks his eyes a few times before responding.
“A Duke?” He says, shaking the shock off. “Duke of what? Like a real duke?”
““Yeah, a real Duke. The Duke of Balwart. It’s in some small country, north of Scotland.”
“Wow, that’s….” He shakes his head. “…. but that still doesn’t give him the right.”
“I know and I said as much. He apologized and asked if we could start over. He’s taking me out next Sunday.” I yawn and rub my eyes. “Are we done here because I’m going to bed? I have the early shift. Afterwards I want to go to the library and find out more about him.”
It is times like this I would love to have a computer, but the monthly bill would push us over the edge financially. It would be nice to Google him in the privacy of my own home.
“Good idea.” Dante says, his anger abating.
He follows me into my room and starts pulling pajamas out of the dresser drawers as I walk to the bathroom to wash the make-up off. This has been a routine of ours for as long as I can remember. Dante needs to tuck me in bed on the nights we go out. I think it’s his way of making sure I am safe and sound in bed.
Once tucked in, he kisses my forehead.
“Good night, girlfriend. Have pleasant dreams.” As he reaches the door, he turns back around. “Hey, I’m sorry I overreacted back at the club. I don’t like it that someone else came to your rescue. That’s my job. I know it won’t always be my job, but until I am ready to let you go….”
Sitting up I reply with, “It will always be your job. You will always be my brother, best friend and confidante.”
He looks despondently at me because we both know that when and if I do find the right guy things may change. I will never marry someone who doesn’t understand my relationship with Dante. The man I marry will know we are a package deal. We have been through too much not to be together.
“Hey, so what happened with the guy you were speaking to? Did you get his number?”
“Yeah. He was waiting at the door, watching the scene unfold outside. He asked who you were and I told him. We had a few drinks as he tried to calm me down. We have a date next weekend.”
“That’s great, I told you your dry spell was only short term. But you never listen to me. What do I know?” I say sarcastically.
“Shut up. You don’t have to say I told you so.”
“Yes, I do because it doesn’t happen often and when it does, I have to gloat.”
“Bitch.” He replies mockingly.
I throw a pillow hitting him squarely in the chest.
He grunts.
Giggling I say, “Good night.”
He throws the pillow back at me aiming for my head, but I catch it.
“Night.”