15. Esme

15

ESME

M y entire head is a brick, and my body aches, which is why it's odd that I also feel rested at the same time. The sleepy slumber that I'm in as I wake up is almost peaceful. Only accentuated by the fact that the pillows and mattress feel heavenly.

Vaguely, I hear Keats's voice, and he seems to be in the hall near the bedroom door. "Just move around my schedule. I doubt I'll be in Monday morning," he speaks in a thin yet clipped tone before he must hang up.

Yawning, I begin to wiggle my body as he patters into his room.

"Hey, there you are, sleepyhead." His content tone feels false, probably because of how I ended up here.

I rub my eyes as I sit up, noticing that I'm wearing Keats's shirt. Oh yeah, because my clothes stink of smoke.

This is my life? Gone up in flames?

"Tell me it was all a dream."

He winces. "I wish I could." Keats comes to sit on the side of the bed near me.

Am I still in shock or has reality set in? One glance to Keats who is dressed yet kept a little stubble on his chin, his eyes glazed with concern and pity, and I know that shock is long over.

"What time is it?" I wonder, as I can see the sun is bright outside where he partly opened his curtains.

He touches my arm as he sits and comfort spreads through me. "You were tired, so I didn't wake you, but it's almost ten."

"Wow. That's probably the only miracle. I slept." I'm lacking energy in my voice.

"It could have been worse," he reminds me.

Thinking about it for a few moments, I guess he is right. "At least, my camera equipment and laptop were in my car, since I was away for a shoot earlier in the day. It's just my…"

"House," he finishes my sentence.

Silence grows in the room, eerily relaxing.

This man. How does he have abilities that I've never seen before? He's supportive, and it's a bonus that he's easy on the eyes. Something positive for the day.

Maybe it's hysteria due to last night, but I snort out a laugh and begin to chuckle to myself. Keats watches me peculiarly.

"What's funny?"

Flopping back onto my pillow, I slide along the mattress to rest on my side and observe him. "I've never seen your room. It's always been doors and floors as our settings of choice."

Now he smirks, too. "You forgot about the table."

Exploring the room with my eyes, there are a lot of grays happening, but the large windows make up for it. I bring my hand to run along the mattress. "Nice bed."

"Thanks for your approval." He lifts his feet up and joins me on his side .

"If I recall, I was angry at you yesterday."

Keats wraps a few strands of hair around his finger to touch me affectionately. "Long forgotten. Besides, you were pissed at me for not letting you run into a burning house, too. If I were to keep a scoreboard then you are really racking up points. Lucky for you, that too is long history."

I swoop his finger away only to bring it to my lips for a little peck. "Truthfully, it's all a little blurry what happened, but thank you for saving me, and I do remember being with you."

Keats licks his lips, his smile sudden. "Did you just say thank you to me?" he teases.

"Yes," I reply bluntly.

"Noted. Now, as much as I wish you could sleep, you need to get out of my bed."

My brows furrow. "Kicking me out of bed already?"

He shakes his head and leaves the mattress. "No. But we have to deal with insurance and assess the damage. Not to mention, we need the details from Mrs. Tiller's insurance."

Kicking the duvet further toward the foot of the bed, I swing my feet to the ground and rub my head when I stand. "What exactly happened again?"

Keats is rummaging in his drawer when he answers. "According to Sheriff Carter?—"

"Again, why can't everyone just say Carter? He's our neighbor."

"And a sheriff who had words with the fire department, so…"

I look at him plainly.

"Something in the toaster in Mrs. Tiller's house went wrong. Hopefully it's mostly smoke damage to your home. She's at the hospital for a checkup. With her old age, even unscathed, a double-check was needed. Her daughter is driving down from Michigan to help sort everything out."

I begin to pace and try to digest all the details. "What a nightmare."

He tosses clothes onto the bed. "Like I said, it could have been worse. Here. Your clothes from yesterday are in the washing machine, so you will need something else to wear. Hailey called, and she will bring you some clothes later."

Wearing his shirt isn't bad at all, but having normal clothes for public outings is ideal. Nonetheless, I snatch up one of his button-downs, and if I were brave enough, I could wear it as a dress, but it's just a shade too risqué for the neighborhood.

"There is a spare toothbrush and things in the bathroom." Looking at him strangely, he must understand my mind. "Relax, I have a bunch of hotel kits from traveling. If you feel the need to destress with sewing, then there is probably a thread with a spare button in there, too."

"Sewing isn't for me, and thank you again."

Keats circles the bed with a strong stride to stand before me and raises his hands to frame my face with my hair between his fingers. The hold he has on me is firm which makes it easy for him to lower his lips to mine for a deep kiss. One that I'm receptive to, anchoring me down on earth and creating longing for this man that I no longer view as an enemy. Keats is a man of character and caring. Just so happens, I'm lucky enough that he wants to be those things with me. I kiss him back, powerful and confirming. I don't want to run away. Even when I want to shut myself away from the world right now, I want to do that with him.

We part, and he kisses my forehead delicately. "It will be okay," he promises .

Our eyes meet for a mutual agreement. If they could talk, then it would be to say that he'll protect me, and I'll let him.

Eyes always speak the truth.

Walking through the rubble with Keats, the smell of smoke means that we will need to shower when we get back to his place. We can see the remnants of part of my house. Or rather, we can see the kitchen and living room, but there is a giant black hole.

"Luckily, it didn't spread upstairs," he highlights.

"I should be grateful for that, but my entire kitchen and living room are gone. Nothing is savable here."

Keats gently kicks a piece of burnt wood while his hands stay in his pockets. "They need to check the foundation and the load-bearing walls for upstairs. The insurance guy mentioned he will get out here only on Monday. I'll talk to him about getting some temporary beams in."

I grab his arm to give us a pause. "Wait… I heard you earlier that you're not working on Monday. Is it…" There is no way. He never abandons work.

"You need help with this." He downplays this, but it means a lot to me.

"You don't have to do that. I know you're busy," I assure him. His lips press together, clearly disagreeing, and it's apparent that there is no point debating this. Besides, my heart warms over this gesture, and that's a feeling I don't want to let go of. "Thank you."

We take a few more steps into my home. "My desk sanctuary. My photos. The flowers you gave me. Hell, even my pie plates… all gone," I list in a daze.

Keats nudges my arm with his elbow. "They are all replaceable. Besides, your pie plates were not really being used to their full potential since I never got a baked present."

I flash my eyes at him, grateful that he is trying to make this easier on me, but I need to keep this appraisal going. "Upstairs will need to be aired out for what feels like forever. Re-painted, too. Maybe new flooring in my bedroom because it's above the kitchen. Probably just better to start all over again."

"I'm not sure what to say except… it could have been worse, and lucky for all of us, you are still standing here."

I rest my head on his upper arm as we stand side by side. "Lucky us," I echo.

It's a long minute of staring at the scene until I sigh and decide that we've seen enough. There is nothing I can do today.

I interlink my hand with Keats's as we exit my charred home. We notice a woman helping Mrs. Tiller out of the front seat of her car. That must be her daughter.

"Oh, Esme. I'm so sorry," she wails.

Swallowing my anger, I remember that it was an accident. I mosey her way with Keats in tow. "How are you feeling?" My hand creates a visor over my eyes due to the sunlight.

"I'm too strong. Nothing is wrong. But your house…" she cries. In the corner of my eye, Keats is shaking hands with Mrs. Tiller's daughter.

"Your house, too."

Her daughter interrupts. "I've called the insurance company, and I will be sure to keep you updated."

That headache is returning, and Keats must notice. "I think today we just focus on the shock."

We all study each other with solemnity and complete deflation. The shining sun does fuck all to lighten the mood .

It's a little chitchat more before Keats and I head back to his house, and he ushers me to the kitchen.

"Hey, look at that, you have a working kitchen," my humor is a little cynical today.

He smiles to himself, amused. "A saving grace because you need to be fed. Besides, I'm starving. Being a superhero is hard work. It gets me the girl, but it's a killer on my physique," he jokes.

"I need donuts and coffee."

"Oliver is stopping by soon. "

"Hailey, too," I say.

We both blink our eyes and then give one another a knowing smile. Those two.

While we wait, Keats makes me a coffee with his fancy machine, and although it's downright delicious, it isn't Foxy Rox coffee. I've finished one round when I hear Oliver let himself in.

"I'm here with supplies," he calls out from the front door and heads straight for the kitchen, balancing a box of donuts and a tray of coffees.

"Thanks." I don't look up to acknowledge him because I'm sedated with grief, not trying to be rude.

Oliver places the box on the counter and opens the lid, quick to offer me one. Oh great, a chocolate old-fashioned with glaze, because that will really save my day… Okay, it's ten seconds of happiness, but still.

"Sorry about your house. Everyone on the street has been talking about it. My run was basically start and stop as everyone wanted to share their concerns, except true to Everhope Road, it was more about who is starting the casserole calendar."

Keats bubbles a laugh. "Just what we all need. A thousand casseroles and Mrs. Callings' mint fudge. "

Oliver raises his hand. "Whoa, if you are getting mint fudge then bring it my way."

They have banter, and it's refreshing to hear, but even they grow quiet when they realize the circumstances of why we are all sitting in Keats's kitchen eating donuts at one in the afternoon. Breakfast is late today for reasons out of my control.

"As great as Oliver is for Foxy Rox deliveries, I actually asked him here because insurance policies are more his thing, so he can have a look or figure out what to do," Keats explains.

I offer them both a weak sign of approval.

"Hi." A familiar female voice is heard. "Can I just come in?" I guess Hailey has been here before since her brother is Keats's friend.

"Yeah," Keats calls out.

Before I know it, my friend's arms are engulfed around me for a big hug. "I can't believe this. How crazy. Luckily, you are safe."

"I know." I shake out my body, hands included. "Knew that house was cursed, damn it. I guess it's now a good thing I never got that cat. That would have been a travesty," I quip.

Hailey's face is blank. "I appreciate that you haven't lost your funny bone. But wow… I have some extra clothes in the car, and when you stay with me then we'll make space for your laptop and stuff."

I huff out a breath. "The few things that were saved, yippee," I add dryly. "And that reminds me that I have clients I need to reschedule."

"She's staying here." All of our attentions whip to Keats who has been quietly listening yet just spoke up, his voice unwavering .

Oliver and Hailey both stare oddly at one another as my eyes connect with Keats's.

"Excuse me?"

"You're staying here." Keats crosses his arms, standing firm, and something about this view irks me and also tingles me in all the right places.

I scoff a sound. "Ludicrous."

He shakes his head side to side once, with his eyes not lingering off track with mine. "No, it's not."

I take one step forward and straighten my spine. "Really?" I doubt him.

"Uh, I think Oliver and I will head to the living room," Hailey states awkwardly, her face soured.

"Why? This could be fun." Oliver is game to be a bystander to the rage building inside of me, even if it isn't rage at all, or at least not the negative kind. He even breaks off a piece of a donut for snacks.

Hailey lurches to her side and grabs his arm. "Read the room, Oliver, read the room. We do not stay to witness this." She yanks his arm.

It wouldn't matter what they do, as Keats and I are both pulling on an invisible rope for a game of tug-of-war.

"I don't think you want to stay with Hailey."

My nose tips up, not sure what words just hit my ear. "W-what?"

"Stay here." Is he offering or demanding? Either way, determination runs strong, and it feels like a giant safety net wrapping around me.

"Again, what?" My eyes flutter in astonishment that he is persistent.

Keats steps closer, heat building between us. "You can stay here, and I don't think you want to leave."

"You have some audacity to assume." I think I've unconsciously added a dare underneath that sentence. A challenge to him to debate this because I fear that I want to walk into his arms, breathe him in, and surrender to his demand.

He smirks, and his thumb brings my lips together before his fingerprint caresses my lips. "Stay." The man seems unaffected by everything I say.

"Look." I step back to break our contact. "Thank you for last night, really. You were a comfort or are or… but one night in your bed doesn't mean that I can just move in. That's crazy."

He cocks his head to the side. "Is it, though? You'll be able to check in next door whenever you want."

"I'll be stuck with you," I deadpan, and my body begins to let a molecule-sized smile form.

"The guy you've been kind of liking lately."

My eyes enlarge at the reminder. "Moving in is a little more than how a normal second date should go."

Keats lets out a sinister scoff. "I don't think it's our second. Are we counting last night? Every time we were together before?"

Now I beam. "See? That's the reminder that hate sex was kind of our thing. We'll argue a lot."

Keats closes our distance to grip my lower arms and raise them up slightly. "I'm up for the challenge, are you?"

Am I thinking clearly? Or does Keats see right through me and presses the button of my honesty? Because I'm intrigued by his offer. It's crazy and exciting.

Time to be practical, though. "I can't inconvenience you, and besides, I really need to remind us one more time that we were insufferable with one another. Granted…" My brows furrow. "The tide has been changing?—"

"I'm not worried. Stay." It's a repeated request but also subconsciously prods the truth of what I might want .

I squint as I study his endearing face. Geez, is this what people have to deal with when he's negotiating a contract? My sight draws down to his hands holding me firm. I recall everything he's already done.

I can't help but wonder. "Why do you care so much?" I ask in a rasp, hopeful of his answer.

The corner of his mouth snags tight. "Everyone deserves someone, no matter their history. Turns out you're my someone, and maybe I'm your someone too."

His answer steals my words, leaving me speechless. Why does it feel profound and promising?

Trapping my bottom lip with my teeth, I decide not to prolong the discussion and instead fold his proclamation and tuck it down into my body for a later time.

My grimace returns when I think of a point that I should highlight if I'm agreeing to this scenario. "This doesn't mean we'll be having sex all the time." A total lie just flew out of my mouth, but I attempt to simmer down our thoughts that probably have floated in once or twice in this conversation.

Keats licks his bottom lip, tenacious yet clearly not bothered by my words. "Huh," is all he says, and it's unnerving. "Esme, you're not going anywhere, just accept that. Besides, I don't think you want to leave."

"That's clearly a mandate." I blow out a breath that transforms my desire to dispute into approval. Ah, what the hell. My house is in rubble, and I could use an adventure. I nod subtly in agreement. "You're right." Satisfied, he drops my arms in turn for his hand cupping my cheek. "I don't think I want to leave."

"Then don't."

Poof. Any signs of the brief tense conversation we had vanishes.

He kisses me, wrapping me around his finger, as maybe I'm too submissive, but honestly, there are no doubts inside me. In fact, I'm awakening.

"That means we have to deal with one another not arguing all the time," I whisper as I'm in a mesmerized state.

His facial expression is almost hungry. "Challenge accepted."

Nibbling my bottom lip, I don't mull long because we've been on a rollercoaster lately, but over the last 24 hours, he's helped me ensure I don't receive lasting emotional trauma that might leave a wound. "Seems… agreement is in our cards," I answer.

"It's settled then," he proudly confirms.

Keats's tiny grin is errant, and most of all, his eyes promise that he won't let me fall into a thousand pieces.

"Are you sure?" Hailey says as she hands me the bag from her car. We managed to take an hour for all of us to eat some donuts and drink coffee. Any talk related to my house was with an optimistic direction.

"Yeah. Besides, it will be easier to deal with the house."

She shrugs at me. "Okay, just…" She starts to laugh. "Look at you two. Who would have thought… Oh yeah, I did." Hailey seems proud of herself, and a closed-mouth smile remains on my face.

I glance off into the distance, down the street where a few kids are playing with a remote-control car. "It's not like that."

"Sure." She isn't convinced.

I bring my gaze back to her. "Would you like me to throw in Oliver's name right now or will you behave?"

The shade of irritation on her face is immediate. "Fine. I won't bother you about Keats. "

Holding up the bag, I say, "Thank you. I'll call you tomorrow. I might be living at Foxy Rox to avoid facing my nearly-burnt-down house."

Her lips pucker out. "Or I can just highlight that you are living here."

"Temporarily."

"Okay. Right." She doesn't seem to believe me. "Anyhow, you two kids have fun. I need to head to dinner at my brother's."

We hug goodbye, and I don't even bother stealing a look at my house, it's just too depressing.

When I'm inside, I vaguely hear Oliver giving Keats the same third degree as I got outside. "You two do what you want, but you kind of look like shit. When was the last time you slept normally?"

"A while. I was already lacking due to work, and then this happened."

Keats's saccharine side is almost too soft for me. He hasn't slept mostly due to me, but he hasn't complained.

Stepping into the living room, Oliver gives me a smile when he walks by to leave. "Good luck, Esme. But you're in good hands." He isn't even taunting me, he's being sincere.

With everyone gone, I slowly walk to Keats like prey as he attempts to clean up the coffee table.

Reaching my destination, I touch his hand to stop him. Instead, I set the empty mug in his hand back down on the surface.

"I'll do that later, but I think we are both tired and could use a little sleep." He more than deserves that.

His lips roll in for a second. "Perhaps a little true."

I offer my hand. "Come on. We can discuss bedmate rules later."

He shakes his head to himself, perhaps in awe that I'm doing my best to brighten my spirits, and it's a struggle, but I'll try.

I tow Keats along behind me upstairs. The moment we are in his room, he's already stripping his shirt up and off with full intention to sleep, but I have another plan. A coping method that seems to work for me.

Pushing him onto his bed, he's slightly taken aback but lets me lead with intrigue.

I'm overcome with a powerful need to take control, which is why I straddle his shirtless body. The way his eyes travel up my body is enough for him.

I don't want to think about anything in the outside world. He can be my escape today.

"What is this?" He doesn't sound disappointed at all.

My fingers wrap around the edges of his t-shirt that's been on me since after I changed again. I didn't bother changing into Hailey's clothes because I would rather have Keats's scent all over me. Lifting the shirt, he gets the clue right away, and his eyes direct straight to my chest.

"We never actually get fully naked around one another, and I don't particularly want to talk right now," I inform him.

His devilish grin causes an ache around my clit. I unbuckle his belt, and the click of the clasp breaking free is a sound I enjoy. It means we are closer to our destination.

Right now, I want to land between his legs with my mouth on him.

"What do you have in mind, Esme?" Keats clucks his tongue.

I kiss his chest then place popcorn kisses down and going lower. "Something I haven't yet done with you," I taunt.

One tug and his cock is free from clothing. I wrap my hand around the base, and with my eyes striking up to his, I ensure he watches when my tongue darts out and swirls around the head. Instantly, his cock twitches, but I don't give myself much chance to feel that against my lips as my mouth lowers down to sheathe him into my mouth.

"How have you waited to do this? And how have I not insisted to test your skills." He moans.

Popping my mouth off, I flick the tip of my tongue over his cock. "You can spank me for that later."

"Or I can punish you now." Keats moves his hands to my hair and quickly wraps everything around his hand with a little force, pulling me into the friction of his hand. He leads me to what he wants. "Take it as deep as you can. And then I will make sure you can take it even deeper after that."

Taking a deep breath, I do my best to take every inch of him inside my mouth, but Keats isn't small by any means. I already feel my gag reflex kicking in, and I swallow to tighten around his length and pump up. Keats presses me back down, true to his word.

He and I know one another's limits. That's the one thing that has always been our instant connection. We both like it a little rough and dirty, but I have trust that if I wanted it to stop that he instantly would. But right now? I want this. My mouth is watering, and my entire body is eager for him.

I suck and moan. Even when he is so deep that I feel tears forming in my eyes, I still love every second of this.

"You are excellent at taking my cock, Esme." His breath is heavy, and his enjoyment seeps through every word. "But I think we are two creatures who would prefer to come with your pussy full of my cock."

I nod and mumble as his cock is in my mouth, but he just expressed what he wants which is why I suck once more and slowly leave his cock.

Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, my body is on fire and wants to be touched. When I climb up Keats's body, squaring his hips between my thighs, I'm grateful when his thumb begins to circle around my nub. Aligning him to my opening, I clamp down on him, drawing out both our moans.

Riding him a few times, he has other plans. He sits up, ensuring he stays inside me. My hands plant on his shoulders and his arms wind around my middle. If I let go then I'll just fall back onto the floor.

"Keep going," he whispers.

His mouth brushes hungrily along the slope of my neck, and I tense around his cock as my pussy and the sensitive tickle around my taut nipples connect. It raises sensitivity to the max. He twists a nipple between the pads of his fingers, while my hips rock every time I push down further to bring him as deep as possible.

Keats growls as he kisses up my neck before our mouths fuse for a long kiss. One that must bring out the side of him that's direct and in control. Proven by the fact he grips my hips and rolls us so I'm on my back.

"No way are you going to lead us. Those thighs of yours stay wide while I fill you up."

The blaze in his eyes brings out another whimper from me, and my body presses up because I need him close. The flames from the fire outside were less intense than inside with him.

We ignite together.

I'm not sure what tornado we create, but we both end up completely spent on top of his mattress. Two bodies tangled together.

"Now we sleep," he pants.

"Yes. You do need your beauty rest." How I manage to joke when I'm near breathless, I'm not sure.

Keats pulls me close until my head rests against his chest. " Nah, the only beautiful thing is in my bed, and imagine that, I want her wrapped around my body."

Even red and warm, I blush. "Go to bed."

"Fine. Be warned I have no issue slipping into you when needed. If you're staying here, then I'm going to reap the benefits."

Smiling to myself, I like the sound of that.

I would say we are only interested in sex, except… he invited, or rather ordered, me into his home and has taken care of me.

And overnight, the sprinkles of more that were spreading between us over the last few weeks are now a trail of the past.

Because a profound urge to take another step between us has become irresistible and inevitable.