Just For Tonight

thirtreen

There was something magnetic about watching a man dress.

Levi tugged the waistband of his sweats over his hips all while watching me do the same. After the bathroom relaxation sesh—impromptu but welcome—my head was in clouds after spending the day ringing in pain.

There were still half unpacked groceries on the counter and writing I could be doing, but the man before me proved to be more interesting at this very moment. This weird push and pull thing we had going on better push itself away for good, only causing more stress. But it seemed from his confession early tonight that he's leaning towards being a decent human being.

Bare minimum.

"Want some water?" I ask, passing him on my way to the kitchen.

"Yes please." He follow behind, his steps heavy. "You live alone?"

"No, I live with Hershey." I point to the tabby curled up on the kitchen island stool and watch as the supposed best goalie in the league quite literally flinches and steps further away.

"Not a fan of cats?" I side eye him, preparing two glasses of water for the both of us. "She doesn't bite. I promise." Sliding the glass over to him, he continues to keep his distance from the cat and instead settles his attention back on me.

Suddenly self conscious I remember the state in which he saw me earlier, but it clearly didn't matter considering he was hard as a rock and just as willing to return the favor. This arrangement was good for me, it had me discovering new pleasures I didn't think existed in my nerves. Had me relaxing when he wasn't so caught up in his head.

We stand in an awkward silence for the next few minutes but it's nice. I drink some water, he drinks his and from the look on his face he's thinking about the exact same things I am. All the ways he made me come tonight, how I did him, and how I couldn't wait to do it again.

But I'd have to.

I'm now a week away from the deadline and although my draft was almost complete, something about it left me feeling a bit underwhelmed. It's not as if every novel has to be over the top iconic, or full of cliffhangers and twists to be interesting, but it does have to have some hold on the reader and the one I'm writing just doesn't have that.

I must've drifted off because Levi is waving a large hand in from of my dazed face.

"You good? Your migraine back?"

"Oh no sorry. I'm just thinking about the book I've gotta write." I don't think I'll ever not brace myself everytime we have a semblance of a normal conversation. Worried that sharing too much will just set him off again, and if it does. I'm done with this.

"You know when I get stuck, I go for a long run. Listen to some music. It helps."

When I realize he's offering me advice I can't help but internally smile and call it a small win.

"I'm not a runner, but music does help." Thinking about running just has me cringing. Thinking about the one year when I was in such a writing slump with no ideas flowing, I did actually try and run.

It lasted for about a week.

"Well that's all the great advice I got." He sighs, and stands to his full height. "I'm going to head out. Thanks again for not writing me off."

I followed him to my front door. "You're good. For now."

He turns before leaving, tossing me a half assed smile and shaking his head. All six foot something of him steps towards me. When he starts to lean down, I get the message and meet him halfway. He kisses me with force, tongue and all sorts of sin. I almost don't want him to go, but he has to.