“Or we could have slept in one of the many beds in this house.” I pause as the words tumble from my mouth. “I mean, we could have each slept in a bed . . .”
Laughing, Todd says, “I like beds. But I like lying with you just as much.” He places another quick kiss to my shoulder. Something else I learned last night was how once he was given the green light, he was always touching me. Pinkies linked, hand on my knee, lips on my own. Always in contact.
Clara would tease me for days if she knew how much I loved it. The way his simple gestures warm my heart and make me feel like a giddy teenager is nothing I’m used to, but somehow, exactly what I’ve been missing. The men I’ve dated are more about appearances, excessive fucking, and keeping PDA to a minimum, and of course, after my last couple of dates, at least one that could be attributed to him having a wife.
“What do you want to do today?” Todd asks, scooting closer to me, his embrace tightening.
“Oh, I figured I’d write. I’m sure you have things to do.” Keep it casual, Donna. Do not let him know you secretly hope he plans to spend his day here. Not whistling, of course. I could do without that distraction.
“Not a thing on my calendar. What would you say to playing hooky today? Just hanging out and doing nothing.”
“Isn’t that what we’ve been doing?” I ask, turning my attention to him. Eyes wide, he opens and closes his mouth like a fish on a hook.
My breath. It’s my morning breath. I knew it was bad enough to melt paint, but he doesn’t need to be so obvious. I begin to pull away from him but before I can make it far, Todd licks the tip of his thumb and then . . . wipes under my eye.
“Eww, what the heck?” I shout, swatting his hand away.
“Babe, it looks like you are planning your Halloween costume and Rocky Racoon is your only option.”
Sitting up quickly, I continue to bat his hands away as he tries to pull me back down. Mimicking his move of wetting my fingers with my tongue, I quickly wipe away any makeup that has settled under my eyes. The sound of his deep laugh have an effect on me, and I relax a little but still swat his hands away.
“Don’t you know you can’t make fun of a woman and her morning-after makeup?” I scold.
“Sorry. I tried to help, but you, once again, channeled the Karate Kid. So, what do you say? A Todd day? Relaxation, popcorn, and maybe a movie marathon. Pants optional.”
Shrugging, I feign contemplation before his fingers dig into my side and begin tickling me. Laughing, I fall back onto to my pillow and look into his chocolate-colored eyes. While I was laughing, Todd found a way to nestle himself between my legs, his arms resting on either side of my head. Lips sealed tight, I stare at him, waiting for his next move.
And he stares right back. Another standoff. This has quickly become our thing and while I’d love nothing more than to win this round, the pressure of him on my bladder has me lifting myself up, placing a quick kiss to his lips. Stunned, he slips in his stance, and I toss him onto his back.
“First, bathroom, shower, and some breakfast,” I declare as I scurry from the living room and down the hall to the master bathroom.
Another interesting tidbit about my new friend—he likes a good musical. I’ll admit I’m not normally a huge fan of musical theater but watching the modern versions with Todd has been both enlightening and fun. His commentary and behind the scenes knowledge are like a front row seat to a critic and historian. Although, like with his television show, he has fancied himself a singer and I have reminded him he is not. My ears thank me for stopping him with a series of kisses ten minutes ago when he channeled his inner Hugh Jackman. Why couldn’t he be like most men and insist we watch an action movie? The answer to that question is simple, Todd Chimolski isn’t most men.
“I like this take-charge version of you,” he mumbles on my lips, his hands resting on my hips as I lean into him.
Rolling my eyes, I run my fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck before laying my lips on his again. Deepening the kiss, I let him control the intensity. Slow and intense is how Todd kisses. He doesn’t know it but this kiss, this weekend, will be featured in one of my books sooner rather than later.
A loud rumble sounds from his stomach and I giggle, “I could eat too.”
“How about one of my signature grilled cheese sandwiches?”
“Signature?” I ask, sitting back on his lap.
Smacking my ass lightly, he stands, picking me up with him and gently setting my feet on the ground. “Come with me and prepare to be amazed. I make a mean grilled cheese.”
I follow him into the kitchen and take a spot at the breakfast bar while he begins pulling out the pans and ingredients for our lunch. We chit chat as he goes about preparing our food. I sip on a cup of hot tea and laugh at his attempt to tell stories while changing out his accents.
“I think you need to work on that Irish one a little more. It was a little less Irish and more Brooklyn sounding to me.”
Throwing his hand over his heart dramatically he scoffs. I laugh. “I suppose you’re right. This narrator life is harder than it looks. Or sounds. I suppose sounds is more appropriate. Your lunch, muh lady.”
Picking up the offered sandwich, I smile in appreciation. If this sandwich tastes half as good as it smells, I may have to kidnap Todd and take him home with me. Biting into the crisp bread, the flavors of three different cheese burst in my mouth and I let out an exaggerated moan.
Pulled from my moment of euphoria, I look at Todd across the bar as he adjusts himself behind the counter. “Woman, you cannot make those sounds. I’m only so strong.”
Winking, I repeat the sound and then take off running from my spot as he chases me. When his arms wrap around my waist, I let him turn me to face him and silence my laughter with his kisses. Until the sound of a key in the lock of the front door startles us both.
It’s like a scratching record, and we pull apart, almost like our skin is on fire just as the one person we have in common steps through the doorway.
Chapter 18
Todd
This is not what you call living your best life. In fact, I’m pretty sure I’m part of a movie. Not one of those cheesy romances like Donna is writing. You know, the ones where everyone is happy-go-lucky and no one ever fights. I couldn’t be so lucky.
Nope. It’s one of those over-the-top, slapstick comedies where the nerdy guy becomes the butt of the joke when it comes to dating the beautiful woman.
Not that it’s the first time I’ve lived through this particular script. Vicki Pantori had a look of horror on her face in eleventh grade when we were caught making out back stage during rehearsals for Our Town. Didn’t matter that I was playing the lead role of George Gibbs, which should have made me an automatic babe. Just look at David Schwimmer. He played the same role and is a solid “seven” because of it. But no. Instead, the only look Vicki sported was regret and embarrassment.
Donna has that same look on her face right now. I’m willing to give her the benefit of the doubt until I see how this all plays out.
Rounding the corner, Aggi drops her bag. “Donna!” she exclaims, tripping over said bag as she moves to hug her friend. “It’s so good to see you!”
“What are you doing here?” Donna asks, still sounding stunned. And startled. Maybe regretful? I’m still assessing.
Pulling back, Aggi and Donna continue to hold each other’s arms the way women do. In the meantime, I’m standing here, waiting to be noticed.
“Spencer’s mother flew in last night. She basically kicked me out and sent me here for our girls’ trip.”
“What? You didn’t need to leave him like that.” Donna’s speaking in compassionate sentences, but her eyes are still wild. I wonder if Aggi notices or if the only reason I can see it is because I’ve gotten to know her so well.
Aggi pulls away and pushes her dark hair out of her face. “Trust me. He’s fine.” Rolling her eyes, she continues, “He’s being a big ole baby, and I told him he could
have me now as a nursemaid or later when he was well. It helped that I reminded him the doctor forbid him from having any crazy sex until after the MRI at the earliest. So of course he opted for having me back later.”
I stick my tongue out and make a gagging noise like I always do when Aggi mentions anything about her sex life. Because it’s Aggi. She’s basically my sister. Of course, that gagging sound is also what makes her finally notice me.
“Hey Todd. What are you doing here?” she asks as she hugs me quickly.
Just as I open my mouth to respond, Donna interjects. “The power went out.”
My eyebrows shoot up in surprise at her response, while Aggi quickly looks around the room. “Um, the TV’s on.”
“It came back.” Again, Donna with the quick answers. “Todd came over to check on me and made me some lunch. Wasn’t that nice of him?”
Donna looks at me with pleading in her eyes. Like she’s begging me not to say anything about how long I’ve really been here. About what has really been going on between us. About us at all.
Aggi, on the other hand, looks back and forth between us. I know her well enough to know she’s not fooled. I also know her well enough to know she’s not going to say anything about it.
Shoving my hands in my pockets, I clear my throat and briefly look at the ground before giving Donna what she wants—an out.
“Yep. But she’s got it under control. Made it through the night and all that.”
“I can see that,” Aggi says, but I see the questions in her eyes. In Donna’s, I see relief for joining her in her farce. For keeping the last three days a secret. I won’t lie, that one stings.
“So yeah.” I begin shuffling my way to the door. “Now that you’re here, Ags, I’m just gonna head on out.” Refusing to make eye contact, I quickly pack up my laptop and phone, making sure to grab my keys.
Before she says anything, I feel Donna move closer to me. I’m not sure what to think about that. Five minutes ago it would have made my heart race and my mouth salivate. Now, now it kind of makes me want to vomit.
“You don’t have to go, Todd,” she says quietly, and I squeeze my eyes tight for a split second before standing straight and looking her dead in the eye. She’s wringing her hands, but I don’t even know what to make of that.
“Yeah, I think I do.” Shooting my gaze around the room, I smile weakly at Aggi and then return my attention back to Donna. “You’re in good hands. Besides, I’ve been lazy with some work stuff for the last couple of days. Money won’t make itself, ya know.”
I have no idea why I just said that. It doesn’t even sound like me, but right now I don’t exactly feel like me, either. All I know for sure is I want out of this place. I want away from this awkward situation. And I want to go lick my newfound emotional wounds.
“Anyway, it was good to see you, Donna. Bye, Ags.”
Heading to the car, I don’t even look behind me. Not when I close the door. Not when I walk down the stairs. Not even when I hear Aggi come out behind me.
“Todd?”
“Yeah.” I don’t turn around as I load my bag into the passenger side of my car. I don’t want her to see the emotions on my face, which I know full well she’ll figure out immediately.
“Um, I don’t know what I just walked into, but I know you didn’t just show up to check on Donna.”
Slamming the door, I walk around the front of my car to the driver’s side. “Doesn’t really matter, Ags.”
“But it does, Todd.” I continue to ignore her. “Todd!”
“What?” I blurt out, finally looking at her, one foot already in the car.
“This isn’t like that time with Vicki Pantori in high school.”
A humorless smirk crosses my face. “I know.” Climbing into my car, I slam the door and crank the ignition. “It’s worse,” I say to myself as I drive away.
With nowhere I have to be and nothing I have to do, I keep my foot on the gas and just drive. And think.
I know I’m no one’s eye candy. That’s never been up for debate. But I’m some damn good ear candy, and I won’t chase someone who can’t recognize that.
Thinking over the last few days, I have to ask myself what exactly did Donna and I have anyway? It was three days of shopping and kissing and watching The Voice. Yes, it was the most fun three days I’ve had in a long time, but that doesn’t make it a relationship. It doesn’t make a commitment. Hell, it doesn’t even really make a solid friendship.
No, three days makes a good time and some good memories. If that’s all Donna wants from it, can I fault her for that? No. There was never a discussion about what we were doing. She doesn’t owe me anything. And realistically, even if she is as interested in me as I am in her, she lives in Arizona. I live in Idaho. How would something more than what we’ve already shared work?
It wouldn’t. And as much as I pride myself on being an intellectual guy, it seems Donna is the smart one in this situation. She already knew what has taken me longer to process: the last three days have been a vacation fling. An incredible, life-altering, story-inspiring three days. Nothing more than that.
Taking a deep breath and blowing it back out, I try to shake off my hurt feelings. As much as it sucks, I need to let it go. If this is the worst thing to happen in my life, I’m doing pretty damn good. I just have to figure out how to be grateful for that.
Chapter 19
Donna
Game face on. I need to put on my best smile and calm my shit. And text Todd and apologize for being such a complete asshole. Why did I jump away from him like he was on fire? I acted like we’d been busted doing something wrong by one of our parents. I’m not a teenager, and this isn’t my parents’ home.
There is nothing wrong with what Todd and I were doing. Or about to do. If I’m being honest, and other than how I just behaved I usually am, it was headed for some much-needed relief and sexiness. I know it in my gut. I know that if Aggi hadn’t walked in the door, if she hadn’t interrupted us, we would have had sex. Hot, probably slightly award-winning, fulfilling sex.
I have no doubt about it. Sex with Todd would have been great. He’s great. He’s funny and kind, and I blew him off and pretended like he was none of those things. Because I’m a horrible person.
Defeated, I make my way to the kitchen and pour myself a glass of wine. Day drinking on vacation is absolutely acceptable and although last night was an overindulgence, I don’t care. Today, the crisp white is going down with complete ease, and I pour myself another glass, this time a little less generous on the pour.
When the front door closes, I brace myself for what’s to come. I’m sure it’ll start with a sympathetic smile from Aggi, followed by an “I’m sorry,” and then a “get your shit and get out, you hurt my best friend.” I wouldn’t blame her. Instead of moving, I stay planted in the same spot and sip my wine as she walks into the space.
“Hey, don’t be stingy! Pour me a glass too.” Nodding, I pull another glass from the cabinet and twist the cap off, filling her glass, and since it’s silly to put so little back in the refrigerator, I pour the remainder in my glass.
Aggi and I both take a drink from our glass, an awkward silence settling between us.
“I’m just going to say this once and then you’re going to tell me what the hell you’re watching on the television. Okay?” I nod and sip. “I obviously walked in on something. I’m not certain if you were arguing or what but if Todd said something to upset you, I apologize.” I open my mouth to speak but she doesn’t stop to allow me. “Now, I also know Todd better than anyone else and know that isn’t who he is. That being said, he’s a good guy, Donna. Other than Spencer, the greatest blessing in my life. Oh and present company, of course.”
“Of course,” I say with a smile. And another sip. Wow, this wine is going to my head quickly. Warmth runs through my veins and I lean forward, elbows the counter as she continues.
“I’m a private person, you know that. I won’t ask you, or Todd, anything be
cause it’s your story to tell. But, I’m here. For you and for him.”
“Ag—”
Clapping her hands, she smiles broadly. “Nope. That’s it. Think on it and we can talk later. Now, this show,” she says, waving her arm toward the television, “a musical?”
Shrugging, I walk toward the couch and flop down on the cushions, careful not to spill my wine. “Your bestie has moved on from attempting to master languages and onto his musical range. Just a head’s up, do not write a rockstar romance, he’ll try to sing in the audiobook.”
Snorting out a laugh, Aggi joins me on the couch. Kicking off her shoes, she pulls her feet onto the cushions and smiles. “Oh dear. I can’t believe that was even remotely fun to listen to.”
For the next hour, I tell Aggi about all the places Todd took me to. I couldn’t stop gushing about the food at the diner or the cute shops in town. She nodded and laughed along with me.
“So you met Marcy then?”
“I did,” I say, taking her empty wine glass along with mine. Placing the empty glasses in the sink, I grab two water bottles from the refrigerator. Returning to the couch, I resume my spot as she continues.
“Marcy is a sweetheart. A little awkward, which I should not ever say about another person because we’ve both met me. Anyway, at first, I thought she had a major crush on Todd because she would always ask about him anytime I would see her. Then, one day I saw him in this dreadful shirt. Dancing watermelons I think,” she says with her brows quirked and nose scrunched. “I don’t remember, there have been so many. I’m getting off track. So, like I was saying, he was wearing this shirt and once I stopped laughing at the ridiculousness, I asked him what fashion statement he was making.”
“What did he say?”
A huge smile overtakes Aggi’s face and she sits up straighter, excitement evident on her face. “He told me Marcy made the shirt. Can you believe that? Not just that shirt either. Since then, almost all of the random shirts he’s worn have been made by Marcy.”
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