Love Me

He saunters over, wiping his hand on a dishtowel, and kisses me.

And kisses me.

Something starts to smell fu

“Shit. You made me forget about the popcorn,” he says, laughing as he grabs a black smoking bag out of the microwave and carries it out to the deck. “Burnt popcorn smells so bad.” He puts another bag in and then pulls me back into his arms for a few more kisses.

The microwave dings. He doctors up the popcorn, then hands me a tray full of junk food.

I jump off the counter and carry it upstairs.

We get our trays situated on the coffee table, snuggle on the couch, and start the first movie.

He holds a piece of popcorn up to my mouth, so I open my mouth and taste it.

“Oh, that's good. What's on it?”

“Butter, of course, with some seasoning salt, Worcestershire sauce, and a little Parmesan cheese.”

“And don't forget the pretzels.” I take a sip of diet Coke to cleanse my pallet. “What's the other kind?”

“Taste.”

“Oh, that's good too. Spicy.”

“Hot wing sauce, butter, and a little caye

“They're both really good, Aiden. How'd you learn to make them?”

“When my mom was going through chemo, she was tired a lot, so we watched movies together. And popcorn was one food that usually didn't make her feel sick.”

I get tears in my eyes. I don't know why. But Aiden just touches me.

I nuzzle my face into his chest and try to focus on the movie.

But it doesn’t work because Aiden keeps kissing me.

And after careful observation, I’m now one hundred percent certain that his tongue is laced with love potion.

That’s why he was saving it. He has to be careful who he uses it on.

My phone rings on the coffee table, breaking the spell a little. Aiden doesn’t stop kissing me. He just opens one eye, grabs my phone, and says, “It was Maggie. She’s called three times. You better call her back.”

We both sit up.

I take my phone from him and call her as he heads down the stairs.

“Keatyn, thank goodness. I need to talk to you!”

“What’s wrong?” I ask, as I follow him to the kitchen.

“I can’t make a decision. I’m thinking I might sleep with Logan tonight.”

“If you think it’s right. Do you think it’s right?”

I look at Aiden. Wondering if I could ever forget the way he looks standing in my kitchen.

“It seems too soon,” she says. “Which makes no sense because we’ve already done it.”

“If you think you should wait, then wait,” I suggest. I hit the mute button on my phone and whisper to Aiden. “I’m go

He nods as Maggie says into my ear, “You’re probably right. Are you and Aiden having fun?”

“Yeah, we’re having fun.”

“At least someone is,” she says.

I start to say Not that kind of fun, but she’s already hung up.

I strip my clothes off and throw on my short cashmere robe. It’s snuggly, but much cooler than the outfit I had on. Aiden radiates heat off his body and the robe has the added bonus that it would be super easy for him to slide his hands under.

When I walk back in the kitchen, Aiden goes, “Was Maggie talking about Logan? If so, I think you gave her some good advice.”

“Logan is her root. She needs to give it some time.”

“What do you mean?”

“He was her first love. She needs to figure out if she really loves him or if he’s just her first love.”

“Logan has no idea what he’s up against,” Aiden says with a laugh.

I slide my body up next to him and coo sexily, “Right now, you’re up against me.”

“And just getting here has taken a lot of patience.”

“You don’t need to be patient any more.”

“Actually,” he sighs, “I need to be very patient.”

“Why? Why can’t we just have some fun?”

“Because us, this, is not about fun.”

“It’s not?”

“No, it’s serious.”

I decide he’s being a little too serious. So I move out of his embrace and pour us each of shot of Patron Silver.

“Here’s to not having fun,” I say sarcastically, as I raise my shot glass in the air.

He sets my full shot glass down, along with his, picks me up, and carries me to my bed.

He lays me down, then pushes his hand into his pocket.

Ohmigawd. Is he getting out a condom?

Please.

Please.

Let it be.

I make it into a little song.

Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be, little shiny foil wrapper, let it be. Oh. Let. It. Be.

Instead, he pulls out two feather earrings.

He runs the feather across my lips and then squiggles it down my neck.

“Aiden, wait.”

“Why?”

“It’s my turn.” I grab the hem of his shirt and pull it up over his head.

I have to admit, I take great pleasure in teasing him with the feather.

He’s lying on his back and I’m sitting on top of him. Straddling his waist.

I rub the feather lightly all over his chest. His neck. His perfectly shaped arms. Across his abs. In a little tickle motion up his sides. Across his neck. His face.

And. I’m. Dying.

Seriously.

I’m so freaking turned on I can barely stand it.

Grandpa and I had an interesting discussion this past summer about spurs. About whether or not they hurt the horse. Grandpa says there’s nothing wrong with spurring a horse on.

I think maybe that’s just what’s called for here.

I glide the feather across the waistline of his pants.

He closes his eyes for a minute and I realize this is my chance. I keep moving the feather across his skin while I slide out of my robe. So now, I’m sitting on him, naked except for a pair of lavender boy shorts.

I continue to run the feather across him, but I’m dying for him to open his eyes.

I’m afraid for a minute that he has fallen asleep.

But then he opens his eyes. There’s enough light that I can see the surprise in them.

He sucks in air like he just ran a set of sprints, then breathes deeply.

I bite my lip. All of a sudden, I’m nervous.

He shuts his eyes tightly. “Put that back on.”

What?! What the fuck? Is he serious?

I don’t say anything. I don’t even move.

“It doesn’t feel like you’re putting it on,” he says.

I find my voice. “I’m not. I like it off. I thought you would like it off.”

“Please put it back on.”

It’s very hard to have a conversation with someone when their eyes are closed. I can’t use my puppy dog eyes or my pout. “No.”

“If you don’t put it back on, I’m leaving.”

“Why do you have to be so freaking stubborn? And why does it always have to be what you want?”

“I’m going to ask you one more time. Please.”

“Oh, and then what? You go

He keeps his eyes shut, moves me off him, gets up, and walks out the door.

I suddenly feel very naked.

I sit here, not sure what to do.

I’m so disappointed. This has been the perfect weekend.

Then he had to ruin it. Why does it always have to get ruined?

I’m so tired of this. I’m so tired of being told no.

Maybe I should be done with him.

I’ll call Dawson. Tell him that I’ll go out with him. Let him be his sweet, adorable, and compliant self. He never, ever tells me no. And he went to Columbia again this weekend. He would come over and be glad to appreciate my nakedness.

I pull my robe on, hop out of bed, and walk purposefully to the kitchen.

I spy my purse sitting on the table.

Aiden is standing in the kitchen watching me, but I ignore him.

I sit on the bench and scroll through my phone.

“What are you doing?’ Aiden asks.

“Calling Dawson.”

Aiden rips the phone out of my hand. “I’m not going to let you do that.”

“You don’t have any say in what I do, Aiden.”

“Why are you so stubborn?”