Bouquets of Chocolate (manxman)

Thirteen

I'm elbow deep in washing up when I hear a knock at the door. Confused, I look up to my microwave display, confirming that it is, in fact, 11.30pm. Who in their right mind would randomly knock at someone's door at this time? For a second, I consider that it might be Jordie, but he would just walk in, he has a key after all. I sigh.

I quickly dry my hands on the towel I keep hung over the ties of my trusty apron and make my way to the door.

I check the spy hole and indeed see Jordie standing on the other side, bouncing on his feet like a child. Cue even more confusion. He looks so nervous, it's almost comical.

I open the door and he doesn't even let me get a word out before his lips are on mine sloppily. Not a peck, most definitely not a proper kiss, so far away from sexy it it's not even related anymore, he literally just smooches his lips on mine like a child would, it's almost kinda gross. I only roll my eyes.

"Yeah hi, I love you too, what's up?" I ask, slightly concerned about the fact that he clearly can't stand still, rocking back and forth on his heels and the balls of his feet. But he doesn't even grace me with an answer, instead squeezing his way past me, kicking off his shoes and walking straight into my kitchen. I roll my eyes again. If this is anything to go by, I was in for an even longer evening than I anticipated earlier today when I decided to start on some doughnut dough. Joy.

Grumbling under my breath, I close the door again and follow him, only to find him sitting on the kitchen island, his foot tapping the floor at a fast pace.

Again, he doesn't give me a chance to even say anything, because he shoots up off the chair when I walk in and stops right in front of me before speaking.

"Ijustquitmyjobandit'sfreakingmeoutbutitfeelsamazing." He looks like a puppy waiting to be praised, but I hardly even understood what he said.

"Wait, hold up, go again please." I finally say, and add, just as he takes a breath to repeat himself, "Slowly."

Another deep breath.

"I just quit my job and it's freaking me out but it feels kinda amazing." There's a lopsided grin on his face, a mix of exactly what he said he was feeling in his eyes, but I can tell he was happy. It's a boyish grin, one I've fallen victim to so many times even before I knew how in love with him I was.

So I reach out for him, sling my arms around his waist, letting them drop loosely behind his lower back. I smile up at him.

"I'm so proud of you." I kiss him on his cheek to punctuate what I said. My heart is beating a mile a minute, pure excitement racing through my veins at the thought of him finally being free. I'm probably just as elated as he is, but if we both start freaking out, it will end in chaos, so I'm trying to keep it together for both our sakes.

"You're not surprised?" he finally asks, still giddy, but seemingly slightly calmer after I started hugging him. I hum in contemplation, wondering how much to tell him of the thoughts I've been having that I didn't want to upset him with. My eyes trail down his arms, to his hands that are holding my own upper arms, his thumb tracing gentle patterns on my skin. Maybe he is aware of how much his words affected me after all.

"I'm relieved." I answer, and then elaborate: "You weren't happy."

He hums back in contemplation, then a cheeky grin splits his face and his hand grabs the back of my head, pulling me forward so he can give me a long and deep, this time definitely sexy, kiss. I throughly enjoy every second of it, revelling in the quiet care he holds me with and the claim he confidently stakes on me. I reciprocate with a forceful pushback I know he enjoys, and even throw him a little bone by quietly moaning deep in my throat.