Well Played (Well Met #2)(65)
I snorted. For a grown man, he was really worried about my mother. “Probably not. Are you that worried about the walk of shame you have to do to your truck?”
“Not really.” He went to refill his coffee mug, then moved to the fridge for the milk. He wasn’t lying; he took a ridiculous amount of milk in his coffee. “As walks of shame go, this one seems pretty mild. It’s what, about thirty feet?” But there was concern in his eyes when he turned to me. “Why, do you think I should be worried?”
“Honestly, she probably didn’t even notice you were here.” I blew across the surface of my own coffee before taking a sip. I was lying. Mom had to have seen Daniel’s truck in the driveway when she got up this morning. I was impressed with her restraint, really. I’d fully expected her to call by now. But Daniel looked so worried about parental confrontation that I didn’t want to worry him.
He checked his watch and groaned. “I probably should head back.”
“Are you sure?” I pouted theatrically, and he grinned in response.
“Sadly, yes. I have some paperwork I was putting off till this morning.” He took my hand, tugging me over to sit next to him, threading our fingers together. “If I’d known I’d be here this morning, I would’ve made other plans.”
“Well, you know where I live now. You’re welcome here anytime.” I loved Daniel in my space. He was tall, and he took up a lot of said space, but he also fit. We fit. I loved that.
My landline rang about thirty seconds after the sound of Daniel’s truck had faded, and I imagined my mother peering out the window, waiting to pounce. I was so glad she hadn’t pounced on poor Daniel.
“Did your friend leave already? I was going to see if you wanted to bring him down for breakfast.”
“Um . . .” My heart raced, as if I’d been caught. I’m twenty-seven, I reminded myself. I’m too old to be grounded by my mother. Out loud I said, “Yeah, he left. Sorry. I didn’t realize you wanted to make him pancakes.” An image of the look on Daniel’s face if I’d invited him downstairs for breakfast popped into my head, and I had to swallow hard against the giggle in my throat.
“Well, don’t be silly, Stacey. I wasn’t going to make him pancakes.”
“What then, eggs?” I took a sip of my coffee.
“I’ll have you know I made your father a frittata this morning. It turned out great, and if you’re going to be a smart mouth you can’t have any.” She sounded so prim that I couldn’t hold back my laugh this time. “Anyway.” There was a smile in her voice too. “What are you doing today?”
“I don’t know. I need to do laundry at some point, but other than that I think I might just take it easy. Yesterday was a pretty long day, with the wedding and all.” Followed by bringing Daniel home with me last night and . . . My mind was suddenly filled with the memory of Daniel waking me up sometime in the night with his mouth on my skin, me making a run for the condoms in the medicine cabinet, crawling back to bed in the dark, his body pulsing against mine, into mine, softly as he reminded me that we had to be quiet, so quiet . . . I shook my head hard as I remembered I was talking to my mother, and I forced a yawn instead. “I’m pretty beat today.” This was not a lie. I was sore in places I didn’t know could be sore.
“Well, if you’re not going to need the washer right away, I may get some laundry out of the way this morning.”
“Yeah, Mom, of course. It’s your washer, after all. I can do mine after dinner.” Why was she asking me permission when it was her house, her appliances? Low-level annoyance churned in me, a response that made no sense.
That annoyance stayed with me after we hung up, and I couldn’t make sense of it, nor could I make it go away, so instead I spent the day putting my life back in order. I took an Uber over to April’s place to pick up my car. I straightened up my place, which, considering its size, took about a half hour. I took a spin through social media on my phone, uploading some of the pics I took at the wedding, but even the little hearts of social media attention left me feeling restless. I played with Benedick, but as the afternoon got warm he abandoned me and my feather on a string for a nap on the couch.
Maybe he had the right idea. I settled down beside him with a cup of tea, a few of the chocolate chip cookies Mom had made a couple days ago, and our Fun Book Club selection. Our meeting was coming up, and since I’d be leading it in Emily’s absence due to her honeymoon, I should probably read the damn thing. I tucked my feet under me and let one hand rest on Benedick, who purred in his sleep as I rubbed behind his ears. Now would have been a good time for that rainstorm we’d had last night, but I made do with the quiet, sunny afternoon, reading a good book with my cat curled up by my side.
A few chapters in, I glanced down at my phone on the arm of the couch, which had lit up with notifications. I swiped it awake, and the first thing I saw were some tagged pictures of me at the wedding, dancing with Daniel. The first shot was of the two of us from the side, me laughing at something he’d said, him smiling down at me. The second shot was of me from behind, and I scowled a little at it. Not a good angle at all. My finger hovered over the picture, about to untag myself from it, but I hesitated. Sure, the angle wasn’t the best, and my face wasn’t even visible. But there was something about the way Daniel’s large hands cradled my back, something about the way he looked down at me as though he’d never want anything else in his life, that made me want to claim that moment, preserve it.