My Safe Place

by Steph Poe

  It doesn't burn so much this time. In fact, it leaves a pleasant warmth that radiates from my chest to my fingers. I'm feeling wonderfully relaxed. I've officially entered the state of careless and comfortable numbness. My eyes close and my head falls back slightly. I hum Pink Floyd because that's what I do when I have become comfortably numb.

  That lasts about a second before the change happens. "We should go dancing!" I can't stop the words before they explode from my mouth. So, the numbness didn't last long before my inner party girl—who rarely gets released— wiggles her way to the front of my brain. It's like a switch I don't control. I call it the 'no turning back now' button and it sends me from 'comfortably numb' to 'wild party girl who wants to keep up with her crazy best friend,' more commonly known as going from buzzed to drunk.

  Ashton is practically jumping out of her seat with excitement while grabbing mine and Matt's arms simultaneously.

  Cal picks up his phone. "I'll get an Uber to pick us up."

  "Oh my God! I'm so excited!" I clap my hands together like a child. Yes, officially drunk, the normal, introverted me has temporarily gone into sleep mode and crazy, drunk girl has taken over for the night.

  We spend the next few hours at a bar with a huge dance floor and a stage with a deejay spinning techno music. Normally not my kind of music at all, but wild crazy me loves dancing to this. I really let loose, dancing like crazy with Ashton. The guys are both leaning against a high rise table, talking to each other but also carefully watching us.

  I grab Ashton and pull our sweaty bodies together in a tight hug.

  "I love you so much, Ashton Marie Anderson! You are my bestest friend ever! I know I never tell you that, and I'm sorry. I should tell you, like, everyday how amazing you are, because you are! I'm going to start doing that, right now."

  She's laughing at me. "I know you love me! Even though you don't tell me. I love you too, Lake Elizabeth Maxwell! You've been my best friend forever. And now we get to be business partners. We are gonna rule the party planning world! No stopping these bad ass bitches!" She's shouting and pointing to both of us, letting the whole dance floor know how awesome we are.

  I have my arms raised in the air and I'm swaying back and forth to the music when I feel an arm snake around my waist. I feel his warm breath on my neck and shiver when his lips touch my heated skin. He leaves a line of kisses on my neck up to my ear. I feel his teeth nibble softly on my lobe. My body naturally leans into his. He has his palm flat against my stomach only for a moment before he moves it down to my hips. I can feel his hard body pressed tightly against mine. With his hands on my hips, he sways us to the music. It's rhythmic and flows into my soul. I can feel the beat everywhere. I feel full of sensations. The sounds, the feel of him against me, the smell of his cologne. It's all giving me a feeling of euphoria. I need to taste him.

  I turn my head towards him and find his warm, inviting lips waiting for me. I press my mouth to his and the euphoric feeling intensifies and all I want is to lose myself in this man. He slips his tongue in and it caresses mine. I reach my hand back and feel his square jaw that's peppered with sexy stubble. In one swift move, his hands on my hips turn me so our bodies are pressed together, his mouth never leaving mine. I feel so connected to him. He could rip off my clothes and take me right here in front of all these people and I would not give a single fuck what anyone said or thought. 'Zero fucks' is my theme for the night. Sake makes me give zero fucks and I'm loving every minute of it.

  I'm thoroughly enjoying the feel of him pressed against me. He makes me feel things like I've never felt before. Every moment with him is more than I ever expected to experience in my life. I want so badly to give him everything I have, but part of me is still broken. It's easy to forget about that part when I'm clouded by alcohol.

  The drinks are flowing. Matt doesn't let any of us go longer than a few seconds without a drink in our hands. Although, I noticed awhile ago that Cal switched to water. Way to go, responsible one! At least someone is. I have drunk more tonight than I have in probably well over a year. I am feeling so good and secretly wondering why I don't drink more often. Letting go of my inhibitions is wondrous.

  Cal leans his face close to mine. "I need to take you home," he practically growls in my ear and I know he isn't wanting to take me home and put me to bed. Well, not to sleep anyway. I teasingly growl back at him and flash my 'claws,' trying to be serious and sexy, but I'm unable to keep a straight face before giggling like a schoolgirl.

  Cal shakes Matt's hand and they do the man half hug. I grab Ashton's shoulders, pulling her close to me so she can hear me over the loud techno beat.

  "Don't be late and hung-over tomorrow, Ashton Ma-rie!" I say in my most motherly tone. She rolls her eyes at me, but then pulls me close for a hug. Tomorrow is the last day of the bridal show and it's typically the busiest day. Plus, when it's over, we have to tear down our entire booth. Probably wasn't the best idea to go out and party when we have such a busy day ahead of us tomorrow.

  I look down at my phone, and am shocked that it reads two a.m. I never stay out this late. Tomorrow is definitely going to be a challenge.

  In my head, I remind myself to take two ibuprofen and drink a big glass of water before bed.

  Cal and I manage to keep our hands off one another long enough to get into the car. He ordered another Uber to take us to his car, and now he's taking us to his apartment since it's late and it's much closer than my house. Plus, I love being in his bed.

  With the party atmosphere gone, although I still hear the loud club music ringing in my ears, there's a comfortable silence between us. The volume on the radio is real low and I can't quite make out the song.

  "I love that we can just sit here and not talk, and it's not awkward at all." My whole body feels like it's melting into the soft leather seats. I'm so relaxed. I turn my face towards him.

  He looks away from the road for a moment and gives me a quick smile. "Me too," he says before turning his eyes back to the road.

  Me too? That's all he has to offer me? I'm a little annoyed at his lack of response.

  "Tonight was so much fun. It's hard for me to let loose, but when I do, watch out, 'cause I go full throttle. Grab the bull by the nuts and let's go!" I have my hand out palm up before closing it into a tight fist and twisting it.

  I hear a low chuckle from him.

  "Um, it's grab the bull by the horns, not nuts."

  I think he's teasing me, but I don't really appreciate the tone he used in correcting me like a petulant child.

  "Oh sorry, Mr. Perfect. Guess I don't know all the correct analogies or whatever." I wave my hand dismissively at him and turn to look out the window.

  "It's an idiom."

  "What is?"

  "Grab the bull by the horns. It's an idiom, not an analogy."

  Has he always been this annoying and I'm just now noticing? I roll my eyes at him. I'm not sure I like this 'correcting my verbiage' Cal. I cross my arms and let out a "Harumph."

  I feel his glance over at me for longer than a few seconds, studying me.

  "Did I say something wrong, babe?"

  I sigh and continue to look out the side window, and this time I turn my body away from him completely.

  "Silent treatment? Really, Lake. What are we, five?" I don't respond. I know I'm being childish, but I don't like how he's acting. He's not acting like a great boyfriend. If that's what he is. In fact, this whole thing is frustrating me. He told me that he knew I'd be his when he first saw me. He said he's in love with me. But he's never asked me to be his girlfriend or be exclusive or anything. We've just been having fun and not really labeling our relationship.

  But what if I want a label? What if I want him to ask me outright to be his girlfriend? I mean, what is the next logical step here? He needs to ask me to be his girlfriend, like yesterday.

  "I can see those wheels turning in your head, blondie. Why don't you just tell me what you're thinking?"

  Blondie? Really? How
original, Calvin. I notice that the car is pulling into the parking lot of his apartment building. The car comes to a stop in his reserved spot. He puts the car in park and turns off the engine. Silence fills the car and this time it's awkward. I'm still turned away from him, facing the passenger door, arms still crossed firmly across my chest.

  He touches my shoulder softly, and when I feel it, I immediately shrug it off.

  "Come on, baby. Talk to me, please." His tone is devoid of any teasing. He's quiet and serious.

  "What are we even doing, Cal?" I speak quietly and don't turn to face him. Apparently the alcohol just makes me say what's on my mind, no filter.

  "Well, right now you're mad at me and I'm trying to talk to you about it so we can go have make-up sex and forget about this little argument." I scoff at his lighthearted response. Is he even gonna take me seriously? It infuriates me that he's so nonchalant about something so serious to me.

  I whip my body around to face him. "I'm serious, Cal. What are we doing? Because we have yet to define whatever it is that's happening between us. I mean, are you my boyfriend or what? What do I tell people when they ask if I'm single? 'Um, well I am dating a man, and he told me he loves me, but I'm not sure where our relationship is headed and he hasn't asked me to be his girlfriend or anything, so—."

  He grabs the back of my neck before I can finish my sentence, pulling me close so our foreheads are touching. "You wanna know why I haven't asked you to be my girlfriend, Lake?" I nod at him and look down at the console between us. He puts his finger under my chin and tilts it up so I'm looking into his eyes. "Because I don't want you to just be my girlfriend. I'm in love with you, Lake. Head over fucking heels for you. And I don't want a girlfriend. I want a woman. My woman. You are my woman. And someday soon, I want you to be my wife."

  I'm stunned. Wife? Did he just say wife? I've had a lot to drink. My head is a little fuzzy. I can still hear the techno music in my ears. But I'm pretty sure Cal just told me he wants me to be his..wife. Really? But I'm broken. How could he want me when I'm broken?

  Overwhelmed with this new information and filled with way too much alcohol, my stomach decides to turn on me. My hand flies up over my mouth and I get the car door open just in time before I vomit all over the blacktop.

  I would be mortified at Cal witnessing this if I wasn't so intoxicated. I feel his hand rubbing slow circles on my back while his other hand is brushing my hair back over my shoulders. He doesn't say a word. He just lets me have my moment of embarrassment.

  When I'm sure that everything in my stomach is now on the ground, I sit up and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. I turn my head slightly where Cal is seated behind me and he flashes me a sympathetic grin. Oh my freaking goodness, I'm so embarrassed. My head hits falls into my palms and I let out a groan. His hand continues rubbing my back lightly.

  "Let's get you inside and cleaned up." He gets out of the car on his side and comes around to my side, careful to avoid the pile of vomit on the ground. He reaches for my hand. "Can you walk or do you want me to carry you?"

  The thought of being so drunk that he has to carry me is even worse than losing the contents of my stomach. I shake my head and stumble to stand on my two feet, gripping the open door for stability. I take a moment to let the slight dizziness I feel pass, and then I grab his hand and step away from the car. With his free hand, Cal closes my door and then places both of his hands on my hips to help me balance. Somehow I manage to make it up to his apartment with little stumbling, at least that's what I'm choosing to believe happens. I'm sure I feel more graceful than I actually look.

  I'm starting to sober up a bit. Now I'm really thinking about what Cal said. And I have yet to respond to his declaration in a proper way as opposed to vomiting. Oh God, I hope he doesn't think I threw up because he told me that he wants me to be his wife someday.

  He leads me into his bedroom and helps me take off my jacket. He motions for me to sit on the bed and I do, perching myself on the edge. Getting down on his knees, he slips off my shoes, one by one. Looking at this beautiful man taking care of me, I know that I want it to. I want to be his wife, but I'm worried that I can't be the wife he truly deserves.

  "Cal?" I whisper down to him. He sets my shoes to the side of the bed and then turns towards me. He settles in between my legs and rests his hands alongside my hips. His chin tilts up at me and I get a great view of those hypnotizing, brown eyes.

  "Yes?" Those eyes are my undoing. I feel like I can see into his soul. Our connection is so strong. I reach my hand out to stroke his jaw.

  "I want that too."

  "Want what?"

  I smile at him. "I want to be your wife someday." His answering grin is like sunshine bursting through dark clouds. He shakes his head back and forth before taking me in his arms and pulling me down on the floor with him.

  "You can't imagine how happy I am to hear you say that." He brushes a piece of hair out of my eyes and kisses my forehead. He pulls back a little and focuses his gaze on me. "You had me a little worried there. I tell you I want you to be my wife, and then you're opening the car door and getting sick. Talk about shooting down a man's ego."

  "Yeah, that was pretty awful timing." I shrug my shoulders. I decide that now isn't the time to tell him about my doubts. That I'm unsure whether I can be a good wife for him because I am still haunted by my past.

  "So losing your dinner had nothing to do with what I said?" He puts his hand under my chin so we are at eye level. He genuinely looks worried. He's usually so confident, so seeing him like this always tears me up a bit.

  "You did totally catch me off guard, but pretty sure the puking was a result of sushi and way, way too much sake." I'm suddenly very aware of how dry my mouth is and how badly I need to brush my teeth. My hand goes up to cover my mouth.

  Cal rushes to his feet. "Are you gonna be sick again?"

  I stand up, not removing my hand from my mouth. "No, I'm okay. Just really need to get the nasty taste out of my mouth." I wave a hand, dismissing him and walk into the bathroom, closing the door behind me.

  I cup my hands and fill them with cool water, and then take a drink before splashing some on my face. I grab the hand towel and dry off my face. On the counter, there is a small cup that holds toothbrushes. Last time I was over, there was only one toothbrush. Tonight, there are two. I smile at his thoughtfulness. He bought me my own toothbrush. I grab the paste and place a small stripe on the bristles. It feels so good to get the bad taste out of my mouth. I wanted to kiss him so badly after I told him I want what he wants, but there was no way I was kissing him before brushing my teeth. I finish up, spit and rinse, and wipe my mouth before placing the towel back on the bar.

  I take a moment to study my face in the mirror. Could I be the kind of wife Cal deserves? To be a good wife, I would need to move on from my past. Come on, Lake. Let's move on and be happy for once. I want to, more than anything.

  All of tonight's events have me exhausted. I'm not only dealing with drunkenness, but also my inner struggles. Now add to the mix that Cal wants to marry me someday. What a night.

  I walk out to his bedroom and find him lying on his back wearing only those black boxer briefs that I love. His eyes are closed and I see his chest rising and falling slowly. He has one hand resting behind his head and one sitting on his stomach. I take a minute to just stare at him. His sharp jaw line is peppered with dark hair with a few flecks of gray that I love. His nose slopes down at a perfect angle. Those lips are soft and full, perfect for kissing. The dark hair that covers his muscled chest trails all the way down to the band of his boxers. His toned and tanned legs have that same dark hair covering them.

  I am one lucky woman. He is probably the sexiest man I have ever laid eyes on, and he's all mine. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I would have the love of a man like this. But it's not just the looks, although that is a perk. He cares about me so much. I know he will take care of me always. I know he will be a great husband, and father,
maybe? Well, there's something else we need to discuss.

  He's never mentioned kids. I guess I never have either. I've always believed that I would have kids someday. Truth is, I've been so focused on my business that I haven't given it a ton of thought. Do I still want kids? How many do I want? How on earth will I be able to take care of a baby and my business? All this in addition to my doubts of being a good wife. It's too much. I need to let it go or I'll never get to sleep.

  "Come to bed, baby," he whispers to me, interrupting my question-filled daze. I see his head come up a little to look at me. I'm still standing in the bathroom doorway, resting my hip against the trim. We can talk about kids later, and he deserves to know my fears, too. I'm so scared I'll be a disappointment to him. What if I can't live up to the woman he sees?

  Chapter 26

  Waking up to my alarm at seven o'clock on a Sunday is not pleasant, especially when I realize that I have a headache the size of Canada to deal with. I bring my hand up to my forehead and groan. I forgot to take the ibuprofen that may have prevented this headache and now I'm forced to suffer the consequences of a fun, albeit alcohol-filled, night.

  I'm never drinking again.

  Yeah, like that's never been said before.

  I roll over in the bed only to find I'm alone. I run my hand over Cal's pillow and it feels cold. He must have woken up awhile ago. I groan loudly in disappointment, hoping he'll hear me from wherever he is and come to me. I feel like crap and could totally accept being taken care of right now.

  He appears at the bedroom doorway like an angel sent to cure my hangover. I swear I see a bright light shining behind him and a chorus of "ohms" when he arrives. He's holding a big glass of water and what I can only hope are magic pills that will instantly rid me of the worst headache of my life.