Chapter Twenty-one: Save Room

Mac

SAVE ROOM

Performed by John Legend

I'd woken to her gone. The scent of her all over my body and my sheets, but not her. I'd wanted to wake up with the warmth of her in my arms. That was different than I'd ever felt after sex with a woman. Normally, I wanted to be gone before the look in their eyes changed from lust to love. I hadn't been prepared for love.

I hadn't been prepared until Georgie.

I pulled on a pair of sweats and a T-shirt and left my room.

"Georgie?"

Nothing. Silence. But she'd showered. I could smell the steam and the cherry-blossom scent that was in her shampoo or soap or just her. I looked toward the entryway where we all tended to throw our bags and keys. Her bag was gone. She'd left.

It hurt. It lodged a deep, bitter mark inside me.

One night she'd said.

I'd agreed .

Why had I agreed when I'd known all along that I didn't want just one night?

I'd agreed because I was selfish. I'd agreed because I hadn't wanted her to stop what we'd started. I'd agreed because I'd known she was still thinking about her family, and my plans, and the reason I'd run from her in Rockport. I still hadn't been able to convince her of the possibility of forever, but I'd stupidly thought that I could show her, with my hands and my mouth, what I felt, and that she'd know the truth without words.

I didn't want to shower. I wanted to keep the scent of us―of her―all over my skin for as long as possible. So instead, I made coffee and sank down on the couch, turning on all three TVs Dani usually had going whenever she was in the apartment, politics running across all of them. Some made my blood boil; some made me want to cheer; all of it made me want to stand up and shout that we could be better than this. Humanity. We didn't have to destroy each other and the planet as we fought for power.

I must have fallen asleep, because the front door clicking open had me jumping awake and barking, "Georgie," all at the same time. It was Dani. She looked at me like I had lost my mind.

She wasn't in her blue dress. She had on capris and a tank top.

"Where'd you get the change of clothes?"

She hadn't had a bag with her last night when we'd left for the reception.

"I have a few things at Russell's."

"So, this thing with Russell… It's more than ca sual."

"No."

"You don't leave things at a guy's place if it's just casual, Dani."

She sank down onto the couch next to me, but she didn't respond. She watched the TV screens instead.

"Turner is such an idiot," she said, referring to the talk show on Fox with a senator from the Midwest.

I couldn't disagree. He was. They all were. Every fricking politician I'd met this week had been an idiot.

Dani made a disgusted sigh and then turned to me. "Where's Georgie?"

I shrugged.

"What happened with you two last night?" she asked.

What had happened? Everything. Nothing. The most amazing sex I'd ever had, which seemed stupid and cliché but true. We'd fit. Our movements never once awkward or out of place. It had been harmony.

"Why do you have clothes at Russell's?" I asked instead of answering her.

She stared at me.

"You don't want to talk about that," I said as she grimaced. "I don't want to talk about it either."

We assessed each other for a moment. Would we both give in and share, like we normally shared everything, or would we hold our nights close to our chests for the moment?

"What did Fenway's aide say about the gun bill?" She moved on to work.

"It's exhausting," I told her .

"What?"

"There's never a moment of just ‘enjoy.' There's always something in the undertone or the subliminal message that I'm supposed to know the jargon for and don't."

"You'll get used to it. But what did he say?"

"That, while the current proposal was heavy on automatic weapons, it felt like it was missing a key component of licensing that his constituents might want to see in something so drastic."

"That little shit."

"Wait…what?"

"That's just code that Fenway is going to put together his own proposal. What an ass. After all we did last term to support their clean water bill."

"See. This is exactly what I mean. Why doesn't anyone just say what the fuck they mean?"

"Is this not about Fenway? Is this about Georgie?" Dani frowned.

"No, Georgie said exactly what she meant. I just don't agree with it."

"Ah-ha!" Dani looked pleased that she'd gotten me to say something about Georgie and me.

"I'm not cut out for this," I groaned, leaning my head back on the couch.

I could feel her watching me for a few moments before she spoke.

"Rob―Mac, I know I've been teasing, but I truly believe you could make a difference in this town. You have the whole package. It just takes some time to get used to it. You were in the military, where everything was pretty black and white, for years, and you've only been at this a few weeks. It'll come together for you."

I looked at her to make sure she wasn't yanking my chain in that typical way my sisters did, but she wasn't. She was serious. I just wasn't sure how I felt about any of it after the shitstorm this week had been. "Thanks. The military had lots of politics, too. I guess I was just used to the subtext that they had running beneath their conversations."

She nodded.

"I'm going to go shower," she said, rising from the couch. She sniffed in my general direction. "Maybe you should, too."

"Har-har," I said.

"Seriously, maybe Georgie left because you smell like garlic and stale alcohol."

I sniffed my shirt and my arms. "I don't stink."

"Made you sniff."

I threw a pillow at her. She chuckled and kept going.

I pulled myself up and went to my room. The tangled bedsheets brought me right back to the prior night. Georgie's and my skin molded together in ways that had my whole body going right back to where we'd left off. There was one truth that had come out of our hours together that I knew for sure... I didn't want it to be one night.

I brought up the search engine on my phone to look up Descartes. I needed ammunition.

? ? ?

The TV was on with one of my favorites― A Few Good Men― playing, but I wasn't really paying attention. It was late enough for the sky to have dipped into shadows, but not late enough for me to start calling to check on her, when the door finally clicked open. I knew she was expecting that I'd gone to bed, or at least my bedroom, but I hadn't because we needed to talk. At least, I needed to talk, and I was hoping she did too.

I turned to watch her. She was in another damn sundress that made me immediately think of taking it off just like I'd taken off the green dress the night before. She placed her bag and a stack of books on the table by the door before glancing my way.

She stopped at the edge of the couch, looking down at me but not coming closer. No welcome home kiss. My eyes went to her lips and back up, her gaze locking on mine.

"You left."

"I had work to do," she said.

"You didn't leave because you had work to do."

She shrugged, running her fingers along the arm of the couch. Any minute now, her hand was going to go to her hair, which was down like it hardly ever was, cascading around her shoulders in perfectly tousled waves. Waves I'd gripped and held, bringing her closer to me as we'd made love.

My body reacted to those thoughts, and I was sure she could see the reaction through my sweats, but I didn't care. At the moment, all I really cared about was tasting her again. Golden cherries and sunshine. Light and sweetness combined.

I patted the couch cushion next to me. "Come join me."

She shook her head, and there went the hand, running through the strands.

"I'm not going to bite." Her eyes flicked to my mouth, and I smiled, liking that she was thinking about kissing me. I added, "Not unless you want me to."

"Mac―"

"No."

"You do that a lot. Cut me off."

"Because you were going to say that we agreed to one night."

She pushed at her hair again, looking away.

I continued, "But I don't want just one night, Georgie. I told you that before we even went to Delaware. And I don't know how you could think, after what we shared last night, my opinion would have changed."

She looked back at me, and I could swear she was holding her breath, and that gave me hope.

"You know, in my humble opinion, I think Descartes would be proud of us."

Surprise registered across her face. "What?"

"Well, you say he wants us to test our perceptions. To validate that our senses aren't deceiving us." I sat up, arms leaning on my knees. I wasn't quite moving yet because I didn't want to give her a reason to disappear again. "And I would say we've tested ourselves several times. That what we feel…the ch emistry we have when we're together…it's repeatable. Not a one-time thing."

She didn't deny it but watched me warily. I got up slowly, still trying to prevent her from skittering away. I eased my body next to hers.

"But he also said there wasn't really anything that could, for sure, separate the waking state from the dream state. That's what he meant by the whole, ‘How can you be certain that your whole life is not a dream?' thing, right? So, I'm thinking that even if we're wrong, even if we're living some weird dream, does it matter?" I asked as I allowed myself to run a hand over her shoulder and slide it under the strap of her sundress. Gentle swirls.

"What happens when we wake?" she breathed out.

"There isn't a certainty that we will, is there? Couldn't we live our entire lives in this dream?"

"Morning always comes," she said, looking at me with eyes full of uncertainty but also desire.

"We fit, Georgie."

"I'd feel guilty if my life backfired on yours," she said.

"You're jumping like fifty-thousand steps ahead of where we're at. Right now, what we have, what we feel…it isn't anything I've ever felt. I want to explore it. I want to continue to explore you." I ran my hand along her cheek, and she slanted her face into the caress, chocolate-lensed eyes closing. "I want to explore what makes you the proud, independent woman you are, but also why you hide your white streak and why you're afraid to let anyone too close. I want to know what made you risk everything to follow a dream that you had when you could have just lived the comfortable life you had in New York. And yes, I want to explore more how you liked it when I kissed you right here."

I chanced bending slightly to kiss the spot where her ear and jaw met, and she shivered but didn't push me away.

"And I want to find more of those spots on your body."

"I think you found them all," she said, voice quivering.

I couldn't help the grin that appeared on my face. "Do you want to make a bet?

She smiled, her real, wide, gorgeous smile that hit me hard in the chest. It was her first one of the night. "You're saying that you can find an erogenous zone on my body that I don't already know about?"

"I'm saying there's a good chance I can find one, but that no matter what, it'll be a lot of fun to find out."

She considered me for a moment before moving my hand to her waist. My fingers dipped into her curves, and she adjusted so her body was tight against mine, our curves realigning again.

"What do I get if I win?" she asked.

"I think you should be hoping I win." I smiled, and she laughed softly, arms going around my neck.

"Maybe we should make the bet about who can find a new spot on each other's body first."

I grinned at her. "I like this bet."

"What do I get if I win?" she asked again.

"What do you want?" I asked huskily, her body distracting me from much thought other than putting my lips and tongue on every single part of her.

"Hmm. A favor. Granted without question."

"What is this favor?"

"A future favor. One I don't know yet."

I let my hands journey from her waist up to the curve of her breasts, and her eyes fluttered closed and then opened.

"Why am I always having to agree to your terms before I can kiss you?" I asked and moved my hips slightly against hers, making her breath hitch.

"What do you want if you win?" she asked just as she put her lips at the corner of mine. The scent of her filled my nostrils, and my movements went from gentle caresses to demands fueled by aching need.

"A favor. Granted without question," I told her back, because I had a feeling I'd never be able to deny her anything but that her walls were going to have me finding ways to climb across them repeatedly.

"Fair enough. Erogenous zones for favors. Should we shake on it?"

"No, we'll kiss on it." I turned my lips to capture hers, the ache I felt requiring to be appeased. I forced her lips open, tongue taking control, not with a fevered pace but one that still commanded attention.

She returned the kiss. Her pace and ferocity matching my own as we made our way down the hallway to my bedroom. The bedroom I hoped she'd stay inside for more than just a night. That we would have many nights tangled up in my sheets. And my heart enlarged at that thought. A thought I'd never had for another woman. I wanted to keep her.

? ? ?

Movement woke me, soft arms pulling away from me, and I muttered a protest, pulling her back. Our second night of lovemaking had been as long and as satisfying as the first. I was pretty sure I'd won our bet when I'd kissed the inside juncture of her thigh and pelvic bone before licking it and hearing her moan.

"No running," I told her.

"I have to use the bathroom," she said with laughter in her voice.

"Bathroom and then come back to bed," I said.

"Don't be bossy. I'll definitely leave," she tossed at me.

"You liked it when I was bossy last night," I told her, and even in the faint light of my room with the shutters closed, I could see her blush, and I kissed her. Unable to help myself. Not able to get enough of everything her soft lips and soft fingers offered me.

She pulled away from my kiss. "If you don't let me up, I'm going to pee in your bed."

I chuckled and let go. "I forgot I was talking to the bed wetter."

"Har-har. I shouldn't have told you that," she said. I watched as her naked, graceful body disappeared into my bathroom. I threw the covers off and found her dress, underwear, and bra that we'd discarded on the floor last night.

I looked around my room, trying to decide where would be the last place she would look for them. I opened my closet quietly, found my Navy uniform hanging there, tucked the items inside the pockets and jacket, and then returned to the bed just as the toilet flushed.

I was lying on my back, hands behind my head, when she emerged.

She stood, looking at me, unashamedly naked. I loved that she didn't hide her body from me. I loved that, unlike many women I'd been with, she didn't try to cover up immediately. She was beautiful―hair mussed, lips burned red from kisses―making my morning wood come to full attention.

"You look as if you've been up to mischief," she said.

"Who, me?" I asked, but I couldn't keep the humor out of my voice.

And just like I expected, she looked around for her clothes. On not finding them, her hands went to her hips. "Mac, what did you do with my clothes?"

"You said you were coming back to bed."

"You told me to come back to bed. I never agreed," she said, coming closer. I lunged and pulled her long limbs back onto the mattress with me. She squealed, laughing and gently fighting me all at the same time.

I had her pinned on the bed before she could blink. She was smiling up at me, my face inches from hers. "I won our bet," I said, and I kissed her jaw and her cheeks and then her lips. She kissed me back before pulling our mouths apart.

"Is this your favor?"

"Hardly," I told her. "This is me doing you more favors. "

"Your sister is right; you're an egomaniac," she said, eyes full of joy. "Besides, I believe we agreed it was a tie. We both owe a favor."

"Most politicians are egomaniacs," I told her as my kisses journeyed to her neck and down so I could take a nipple into my mouth, and her body went limp.

"Don't say it," she said, voice raspy.

"What?" I mumbled, mouth full of her, journeying to the other nipple while my hand kept the first company.

"Pol-politician," she moaned. "God, Mac. Don't stop."

And I didn't, ignoring her warning about the word that scared her, and instead, paying attention to her body and every inch of it that I still couldn't get enough of. That I couldn't ever imagine getting tired of. I understood Eli for the first time in years. If he felt even a tenth of what I felt when I was with Georgie, I wouldn't blame him for giving up everything to live in a tiny town, working two jobs, because the woman he cherished owned a bar.

I didn't let that thought stop me. I didn't get hung up on it. Instead, I continued to worship the woman who was beneath me until I could make her say my name in that aching way she said it that was not only full of desire but also hopes and dreams.