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Authors: Kylie Kaemke

Heavy Hearts (7 page)

BOOK: Heavy Hearts
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“So, Mr. Basford, where to?” I asked coyly.

He looked at me with his hungry eyes and sweetly said “Follow me, love.”

We arrived at a very plain looking brick building. It didn’t have very many marks on it at all that would even indicate what it was. If I had walked past it without Simon I would’ve thought it was an abandoned firehouse or some other building left and forgotten. The area was in a state of urban decay, but the building looked for the most part unscathed.

We entered through a green door and into an equally plain foyer; four white walls, two small square windows with green curtains to match the door, and a small set of three
metal mail boxes next to a set of creaky brown stairs. Behind the staircase was another door which Simon explained was where the other tenant in the building lived.

He took my hand in his and led me upstairs where there were two more green doors. The one on the right, which he approached, had ‘2B’ in pointy black letters right above the peephole. Simon struggled with the keys for a bit, but then the door swung open and he held his hand out to lead me in.

I crossed the threshold into a stunning loft apartment that made our hotel suite look like a matchbox. The door put you straight into the wide open living room, big enough to fit at least thirty to forty people comfortably. The building must’ve gone back pretty far, because it was definitely bigger on the inside than it looked from the street.

The two back walls were both exposed red brick with only one large rectangular window, (the black curtains closed) on the wall directly across from the front door. A giant gray sectional couch sat against a black wall that housed three framed original Star Wars posters; I had to fight back the urge to call him a nerd.

In front of the couch there stood a deep brown mahogany coffee table with some newspapers, cans of soda, and remote controllers strewn about. He quickly tried to tidy up and I pretended that I didn’t see it as I admired the giant fifty-five inch flat screen LCD television hanging on the exposed brick wall adjacent to the sofa. On either side of the TV were two tall solid black wooden bookshelves full of textbooks, novels, poetry, and comics. A few of the shelves housed Marvel characters on display in all their action figure glory; I couldn’t hide my smile, and he caught it.

“Something amusing you?”
He asked.

“I just like your dolls, they’re very cute.”

“Hey, don’t mess with a man’s action figures unless you want to be banished to the couch tonight.”

I began to blush as I thought about the sleeping arrangements for the fast approaching evening. He could tell I was embarrassed as I turned away to scope out the rest of the giant living area, he stepped out of view for a minute with the trash from his coffee table in hand.

In the last corner of the room there was a large gray desk that had one black computer monitor on top and two more mounted around it on the wall above. A large desktop computer was also sharing the desk along with a stack of textbooks, a laptop, and some very large speakers. He clearly was into technology, which explained his expertise on the day we met. Next to the desk sat a white electric guitar and a medium sized black amplifier.

“You play?” I pointed to the guitar and asked as he walked back into the room.

“Uhhh… yeah, but I’m atrocious. I don’t practice enough since I don’t have loads of time.” He awkwardly scratched the space behind his right ear.

“Hmm…” I was kind of at a loss for words. Now that the intense passion we shared while riding the Ferris wheel was gone, and the pressure of me being in his home was on, it was tough to find words to fill the gaping space between us.

“Come on,” he held out his hand. “I’ll show you the rest of the flat.” I took his hand graciously and he walked me through the rest of his place. Down the spacious gray hallway there were a few pieces of modern art on the walls and some pictures of smiling people; family and friends I assumed.

“Here’s the kitchen, your typical kitchen… no need to go in there.” He said as we walked past the oversized kitchen on the left. I could see all the major appliances lined up against a red wall and a breakfast bar protruding on the other end.

Next to the kitchen and also on the left was a small powder room equipped with a toilet, a sink, and a wall mirror.

“And last, my room.” We stopped in front of a large doorway leading into a boundless bedroom. The walls were all painted a very light gray and there wasn’t much hanging on them aside from a large black faced clock above the closet entrance and a very large tattered cloth like map of the world hanging above the king sized platform bed; a black nightstand on either side with two small matching rounded white table top lights. A tall black entertainment center stood across from the bed and held a thirty-two inch flat screen TV and a small collection of movies next to a Blu-Ray player.

Two windows with matching dark blue curtains let the light from outside the building shine in. A sizable navy blue area rug covered most of the floor, and there really wasn’t much else to the large room. It didn’t feel as cozy as the rest of the apartment, it felt cold and sterile. There was a master bathroom attached on the right side of the room, and even it felt more comforting than his bedroom.

There stood a white porcelain toilet, a large gray granite sink on a counter top, a wide rectangular shaped mirror, a stand up glass enclosed shower in the corner, and a large gray tub with beautiful dark chrome finishing. All the towels and wash cloths were a very dark gray to accent the black and gray tiles and fixtures. My mind started to wander as I scanned the room and could picture the two of us in the shower together, making love. I could feel myself turning red and gathered the urge to break the silence.

“You have a spectacular place.” I complimented. I was curious to how he could afford such a flat, but I didn’t dare be rude by asking.

“Thanks,” he said lifting the left corner of his mouth into an awkward smile, his cheek pushing his glasses upward. He was so gorgeous I couldn’t help but smile sweetly as I resisted the urge to rip his clothes off.

We headed back into the living room area still unsure what exactly we should have been doing now that we were alone together with no friends or strangers around to be a buffer.

“Are you hungry?” He pried and just as he said it I realized that I had hardly had anything to eat all day and my stomach started to turn.

“Actually… I am” I acknowledged.

“I’m no world class chef, but I can whip you up something tasty. You like French toast?”

“Yes please.” I nodded swiftly; breakfast for dinner was one of my favorites. He disappeared around the corner and into the kitchen. Not sure what to do I sat on the couch and took in my surroundings. I thought about the events to come and I was equally petrified and awakened.

I could smell the mouthwatering scent of the French toast escaping from the kitchen. I decided that I should follow the savory aroma and check up on Simon. He looked delectable standing in front of the stainless steel stove flipping a piece of white egg-soaked bread in the pan.

“Hey, wondered when you were gonna join me.” He said coolly.

“Yeah, well it smells so delicious I couldn’t stay away.” I took a seat behind the breakfast bar on one of the dark brown stools with the soft leather black cushioned top. I propped my elbows up on the wooden countertop and watched as he cooked for me. He looked up in between flips and smiled warmly, locking eyes with mine.
             

“So tell me something interesting,” I broke the silence.

“Something interesting huh? Well what do you want to know love?” His sweet voice sang.

“Something someone wouldn’t know until they got to really know you.” I awkwardly replied, immediately regretting it. I sounded like an ass, and I was afraid he might think I was trying to get too personal too quickly. “I’m sorry, that was dumb. You don’t have to say anything.” I whimpered as I turned bright red again. He took his glasses off his head and set them down on the counter; offering me a smirk in the process.

“No, it’s okay, I have no problem. I got something good for your curious mind.” He placed the red plastic spatula down on the counter top and slid the French toast pieces onto a light blue ceramic plate.              

“I spent five years in America,” he began and set the plate in front of me, handing me a silver fork and a bottle of warm syrup.

“Oh?” I said as I poured a sizable amount of sticky sweetness onto the fluffy bread and urged him to continue.

“Yea, I went to live with my Aunt
Saraphine in Chicago when I was thirteen, and I went to High School in the city. That’s something not a lot of people know about me. Although a lot of people here can tell I wasn’t educated here especially my classmates at the University.” He explained. I was shocked to find out this new information, but it made a lot of sense. His accent wasn’t as heavy as most of the people we’d met there.

“Is that a good bit of info, or would you rather I got even more personal?” His eyes smoldered. I had the sudden urge to shed some clothing as I swear the room got hotter. 

“No no, that’s very interesting. I like it. Thanks for sharing.” I tried to hide the fact that I would actually have liked to hear something more personal.

“And you?” He asked.

“Me?”

“Yeah, what’s something someone wouldn’t know about you right away?” He turned my own question against me.

“Oh, uhh… I’m boring. There’s nothing interesting going on here.” I attempted to avoid it as I racked my brain but came up with nothing that could work to my benefit.

“I very much doubt that. But that’s okay, I’ll get it all out of you eventually,” a sheepish grin filled his face as he took the empty plate off the counter. 

I washed the dishes and the pan in the deep silver sink. Simon insisted I didn’t need to, but I wanted to. “It makes me feel good, like I’m needed.” I said to him as I rinsed the sticky sweet syrup off each plate.

“Oh trust
me, you are very much needed darling.” He gently whispered in my ear standing behind me with his arms wrapped around my waist. I could feel his hot breath against my neck and it made me tremble. I tried to focus on the dishes in front of me, but he made it nearly impossible to think about anything other than his lips brushing up against my neck.

“Is that so?” My face was starting to flush, but I kept my eyes on the dishes in my hands, full of suds as I ran the sponge over the surface of the pan. He was a persistent one, though. He tightened his grip around my waist, pulling me back a few inches from the sink, causing me to drop the pan. I had no choice. I gave in.

I craned my neck to the right so he had a better angle at my throat. His tongue moved over my skin as he planted sensual kisses from behind my ear to down to my collarbone. His hands began to move upwards, one of them slipping underneath my shirt and heading for my breasts.

I turned around quickly and grabbed the sides of his head, pulling his mouth to mine, and getting dish soap all over his face. He didn’t seem to mind the dripping mixture of water and bubbles as he continued to passionately kiss me. He tasted divine as his sweet tongue greedily tasted mine. The water from the tap was still running, but that didn’t matter to Simon as he lifted me by the waist and set me on the edge of the counter pushing my legs apart so he could move in close and once again we were lost in each other.

Chapter 8

 

It was nearly three hours later after our steamy kitchen make-out-session and we found ourselves back in the living room cuddling on the plush sofa. We argued for a bit about how I was insane because I had never seen Star Wars, and it concluded in my agreement to watch the first one with him. On the long couch in his embrace I lovingly watched him as his lips silently recited the lines to the movie. I wasn’t really paying full attention to the film, but I loved it because he was so passionate about it, and at that moment I was so very glad that I chose to come over.

He didn’t pressure me in the kitchen to take things any further than heavy petting, and I didn’t know if he would when it was time to climb under the king-sized blue and black reversible comforter that lay on his bed. I was still unsure if I wanted it to happen or not. Trying hard to remind myself that this wasn’t anything more than fun I asked myself ‘
what’s the point in holding back if we’re just having a good time?

Before I knew it the end credits were rolling up the television screen and it was getting pretty late. I tried hard to stop myself, but I couldn’t cease from yawning loudly. I covered my gaping mouth with my hands trying to stifle it, but there was no way Simon didn’t notice.

“Did the film bore you that much?” He wondered; furrowed brows and all.

“No, not at all.
I thoroughly enjoyed it.” I lied, but I didn’t want to hurt his feelings by ripping on his favorite movie. If he were to tell me that he didn’t enjoy The Breakfast Club I would probably strike him down. “No, it’s just been quite the day.” I saved myself.

“Yeah, it has been a spectacular day.” He kissed my forehead and rose off the couch to stop the movie. “Are you…” he started, clearing his throat and running his fingers through his scruffy hair.
“I mean, did you want to take the bed and I’ll uhm… I’ll sleep out here on the couch.” His hand rubbed the back of his neck and his cheeks started to turn shades of pink.

BOOK: Heavy Hearts
6.73Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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