The Beauty of Us

by Kristen Proby

  “I guess we do.” I want to ask him so many questions that I probably don’t want to know the answers to. So I keep quiet and just enjoy this moment, snuggled up with him after some pretty impressive sex, and will myself not to overthink this.

  Just be happy, Riley.

  “Good morning,” Trevor says with a sleepy voice from behind me. He’s spooning me.

  “Good morning.” I crack an eye open. “Is it light out yet?”

  “No, it’s only six thirty.” He pats my hip gently. “I just wake up early.”

  “I do too,” I reply with a yawn, and lean back against him. My body is well sexed; muscles I forgot I had are already singing, and I haven’t even left the bed yet.

  Of course, four rounds of energetic sex in one night will do that to a girl.

  “Are you too sore?” he asks, as if he can read my mind.

  “It feels good.” I smile back at him. “Kind of like being sore after the gym. You worked hard for that sore.”

  “True.” He kisses my bare shoulder. “What time did you plan to go to work today?”

  “Around nine,” I reply with a sigh. “I should get up soon and go home so I can get ready.”

  “Give me just a few more minutes,” he says, holding on to me more tightly. We don’t say much, we just lie here, wrapped up in each other. It feels so good to be held. Touched.

  Maybe it feels too good, but I’m going to keep following my advice from last night and not dwell or overthink.

  “If you’ll give me fifteen minutes to get my shit together,” he says, “I’ll come with you.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I’d really like to spend as much time with you this morning as I can.”

  I glance back again. His face is relaxed, his eyes happy, and I can’t bring myself to say no.

  Because the truth is, I’m not ready to say good-bye either.

  I have it bad.

  “I’d like for you to come with me.”

  “Excellent.” He kisses my shoulder once more and then leaves the bed. I pull the sheet around me, enjoying the warmth from him against my naked body while he gets some things together and dresses. It doesn’t take him long, so I finally get up and pull my clothes from yesterday back on.

  The drive to my house is quiet. It’s not an uncomfortable silence, just two people still trying to wake up feeling comfortable in the other’s company.

  It’s easier than I’ve ever known.

  The shower felt like heaven. What is it with everything in the world feeling better after you’ve had some pretty impressive sex?

  I don’t know, but I want to keep doing it.

  I’ve just dried off and am hanging up my wet towel when Trevor comes through the bathroom door carrying a cup from Starbucks.

  “You need this.” His eyes are pinned to mine as he hands me my drink.

  “I’m going to take you up on the running-off-with-you thing,” I reply, and sip my drink, closing my eyes in happiness as the caffeine immediately hits my bloodstream. “How did you know this was my drink?”

  “I’ve brought you coffee at work every morning since I’ve been here,” he reminds me. “Drink more of that.”

  I’m not even self-conscious standing here naked, sipping my coffee. He’s looking me up and down now, his green eyes shining in approval. The way he freaking worshiped my body last night tells me that he has zero issues with any curves I may have.

  Or may not have.

  Because while my hips are curvy, I’m lacking in the boob department.

  “What are you thinking?” he asks.

  “That I could probably use a boob job,” I reply with a laugh.

  “No way,” he replies. and leans in to nuzzle my neck. “You’re perfect just as you are.”

  “And you’re sweet.” I kiss his cheek. “I need to get dressed.”

  “Hmm.” His strong hand glides down my naked back to my ass. He pats it as he pulls away. “Okay. I also brought breakfast.”

  “You’re pretty great, you know.”

  He turns back and offers me a smug smile. “I know.”

  Whoever was stupid enough to cheat on this man and let him go is an absolute moron.

  And I’m so thankful she was.

  Because I don’t plan to take even one minute of any of this for granted.

  I quickly dress, twist my hair into a bun, and put on my makeup. My cup is almost empty when I walk into the living room and see Trevor in my favorite chair, bundled up in a fluffy throw blanket.

  “Chilly?” I ask as he holds his hand out for me. I take it and he tugs me into his lap, wrapping me in the cocoon.

  “My rental doesn’t have any throws like this. Which makes sense, they’d have to wash them after every time it’s rented. But I get cold sitting in the living room.”

  “I did notice it was a bit chilly last night.” I grin when he holds a bite of coffee cake to my lips. “Of course, we heated things up fast enough.”

  “Sex is absolutely better than a throw blanket,” he agrees, and takes a bite of his own cake. “How are you this morning, now that you’ve had a chance to wake up?”

  “I’m fantastic,” I reply honestly. “The hot shower loosened up my muscles, and I just feel like I had a great time last night.”

  “I’m glad.” He kisses my forehead and offers me another bite of cake. “This feels good too.”

  “Mmm.” I bury my face in his neck and take a deep breath. He feels good. I can’t help but wonder if this is too good to be true. Is there going to be another shoe to drop?

  I mean, maybe he’s been to jail. Or there’s a warrant out for his arrest. Or he likes green beans.

  I smirk and kiss his warm skin.

  I need to stop being so cynical and believe that there really are nice men out there, and I finally found one.

  Please don’t break my heart.

  His arms tighten around me in a hug.

  “We should go,” he whispers.

  “I know.” But I don’t move. I just stay here, in his arms, soaking him in. Just for one more moment.

  Chapter Eight

  ~Trevor~

  “I just sniped him,” I say into my headset, and take a sip of my water. It’s the first Wednesday of the month, which means it’s group night. I get together with five other gamers to play and talk.

  I’ve been playing with this same group for close to fifteen years, through two different game systems. We’re friends, and we don’t bring others into our fold, unless it’s one of their children who wants to play for a bit.

  “Let’s take a break, guys,” Angie says. “I need to hit the bathroom and grab a snack.”

  “Good timing,” Scott says. I set my controller in my lap and lean back, taking another sip of my beer. “How are you feeling, Smitty?”

  “Good as new,” Smitty replies. That’s not his real name, it’s his gamer name. And he had a heart attack last year, which sent us all into a tailspin. “My wife has me on a strict diabetic diet, so I don’t enjoy food enough to actually eat it anymore.”

  “Good,” I reply with a laugh. “We don’t need a repeat of last year.”

  “Agreed,” Spade, another alias name, says. “My wife’s dad had a heart attack last month. I feel like everyone’s dropping like flies.”

  “I’m not dropping,” Smitty says.

  “I’m back, guys,” Angie says, her voice breathy from rushing. “Sorry, what did I miss?”

  “Smitty feels good,” I reply.

  “Good,” Angie replies.

  “Hey, Trev, how’s Riley?” Scott asks.

  “She’s great.”

  “Wait, who’s Riley?” Angie asks.

  “She’s a woman I’ve been seeing,” I reply as the game starts again.

  “I haven’t heard you talk about her before.”

  “It’s pretty new,” I reply with a scowl. “And I don’t tell you guys everything.”

  “Really?” Scott asks, with sarcasm dripping through
the line. “Good because I don’t want to know everything.”

  “I do,” Angie says. She sounds pretty pissed off, which makes me raise a brow. “Where the hell did you meet her?”

  “In Portland,” I reply shortly.

  “You’re in Portland? Or did you meet her online?”

  “Hey, why the hostility?” Trent, the sixth in our group, asks. He’s the quietest of all of us.

  “I’m not hostile.” Angie sniffs. “I just want the scoop.”

  “I’m in Portland working on a show,” I reply, not that I have to explain myself to Angie or anyone else. “She’s one of the co-owners of the restaurant I’m working in.”

  “Oh.”

  “You okay, Ange?” Scott asks. A text from Scott comes through my phone. We often text back and forth, privately discussing what’s happening in the group.

  What’s up with her?

  I shrug, as if he can see me, and reply. No idea.

  “Fine.” We’re all quiet for a moment as we run around and shoot the enemy. Finally, Angie says, “You know what? I have to go. I forgot about something I have to do.”

  “Angie, you can’t leave in the middle of a game,” Scott says, but before he can finish, she’s gone.

  “Now we’re down a man,” Spade says.

  “It’s okay, we’ve got this,” I mutter, and the five of us concentrate on picking up Angie’s slack. When the round is over, we lose, but only by a tiny bit. “We’ll get them on the next round.”

  “I wonder what was up Angie’s ass?” Smitty says.

  “You know how possessive she can be,” Trent says. “She doesn’t like new women coming into our group. She acted this way every time one of us met our wives.”

  “True,” Scott says. “Maybe it’s a chick thing.”

  “And being the only girl in our group for so long,” I add. “I thought she had a boyfriend?”

  “Angie changes boyfriends with the seasons,” Smitty says. He’s the closest to her. “I think they broke it off a couple of weeks ago.”

  “You don’t think she has a thing for Trevor, do you?” Scott says, and I immediately laugh.

  “No way,” I reply.

  “That would be like his sister having a thing for him,” Spade says. “Weird.”

  “I don’t know,” Scott continues. “She sounded pretty jealous. And you guys know as well as I do that Angie likes the gamer dudes. The only reason she hasn’t tried to get with any of us is because we’re all happily married. But Trevor’s not married.”

  “If what you say is true,” Trent says, “hearing that he’s met someone new would have made her pretty mad. She’s always been the dramatic type.”

  “Trust me, guys, Angie doesn’t have a thing for me,” I say, and laugh. “She’s probably just having a shitty day.”

  Suddenly there’s a knock at my door.

  “Don’t start the new game yet, someone’s at my door.”

  “Trevor’s so getting laid tonight,” Scott says.

  “Shut it,” I mutter, and pull the door open to find a very sexy Riley waiting behind it. “Hi, sweetheart.”

  “I know, it’s game night, and I’m not staying,” she says in a rush as she walks past me into the kitchen. “I just had to bring you a few things.”

  “I can sign off.”

  “Hey, bros before hoes, remember?” Smitty asks, making the others laugh.

  “Are they in your ear now?” Riley asks with a smile.

  “Oh yeah.”

  “Hi, guys!” she calls out, aiming at the mouthpiece. “I’m not staying!”

  She begins unloading a big plastic bag.

  “I just wanted to make sure you’re well fed,” she says, making me smile. She’s in her old college sweatshirt and a pair of jeans that do awesome things for her ass.

  I’m such an ass man.

  “And I needed to make sure you’re warm.”

  The last thing she pulls out of her bag is a black throw blanket, very much like the one I curled up with the other day at her house. She flicks it open, and reveals the Death Star.

  “It’s Star Wars,” she says proudly.

  “Yes, it is,” I reply, and pull my earbud out of my ear so I can kiss my girl without an audience. I grip her waist and pull her to me. “Thank you, Riley.”

  “You’re welcome,” she says, and melts into me, her hands on my chest. “I really didn’t want to interrupt your evening. I know this is your night with the guys.”

  “I can take a minute to kiss you,” I reply, and lower my lips to hers, brushing them lightly and then settling in to taste her, to make her go just a little weak in the knees. “Stay,” I whisper.

  “I can’t,” she whispers back, and grins against my mouth. “Tonight is DVR night with Cami. I have a date with a vampire.”

  “Convenient,” I reply, and brush my fingertips down her cheek, unable to keep from touching her. “Thank you, for all of this. You didn’t have to.”

  “I know.” She kisses me once more and then pulls away, walking toward the door. “Enjoy it all and I’ll see you tomorrow. You hear that, guys? He’s all mine tomorrow! I’m not sharing.”

  I plug the bud back in my ear in time to hear the guys laughing.

  “Be safe tonight.”

  “Always.” She blows me a kiss and then she’s gone.

  “What did she bring you?” Scott asks.

  “Looks like a salad from the restaurant, some brownies, and a Star Wars blanket because this rental doesn’t have any throws.”

  “Aw, she got you a blankie,” Smitty says, making us all laugh.

  She did. She pays attention. It might be the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.

  Ever.

  I don’t know if that’s sad, or if she’s just really great. I’m going with she’s great.

  “It was nice of her,” I say, and sit on the couch, the blanket over my lap and my food spread around me. “I have supplies, so I’m ready to go back in when you guys are.”

  “We were just waiting for you to be lovesick,” Trent says. “But in all seriousness, she sounds like a nice girl. I’m happy for you.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  “Okay, let’s go kill some zombies,” Scott says, and we jump into the next game and play late into the night. Tomorrow morning will come early, but I wouldn’t give these evenings up for anyone. Well, I would for Riley if she needed me, but I hope she continues to understand that although this hobby of mine is totally geeky, it’s important to me.

  Time will tell.

  My ex didn’t get it. It’s one of the many reasons that our relationship just didn’t work out.

  But Riley is different from anyone I’ve been with in the past. Not only is she sweet and beautiful, but she’s not completely self-absorbed. She thinks of others first.

  And that just makes me want to give to and protect her fiercely.

  “Earth to Trevor,” Scott says in my ear. “Are you going to shoot these fucking zombies or are you going moon over Riley all night?”

  “Fuck off,” I mumble, and focus on the game at hand. “I shoot double the zombies you do.”

  “Prove it.”

  “She’s nervous,” Riley whispers in my ear the next morning. We’re just about to wrap a shoot of Mia cooking with our host in the kitchen. She’s smiling, but forgets to look up at the camera.

  “She’s doing great,” I reply softly.

  “I know that, and you know that, but Mia is self-conscious,” Riley replies, watching her friend. “She always has been.”

  “I’ll talk to her,” I reply, and pat Riley on the back. We’ve been careful to keep our relationship on the down-low at the restaurant. Not that everyone doesn’t already know that we’re seeing each other when we’re not here, but there’s no reason to act like lovesick teenagers.

  I’m capable of keeping my hands to myself.

  Sort of.

  “Thanks,” Riley says, and smiles up at me. “I have a meeting, so I’ll be in my office
if you need anything.”

  “Sounds good. Oh, before I forget, would you like to go to Multnomah Falls with me on Saturday? I’ve always heard that it’s beautiful there, and thought I’d check it out.”

  She bites her lip. “I would love to, but I’m supposed to go hang out with my nana on Saturday. I can reschedule—”

  “Definitely not,” I reply, and kiss her cheek. “I didn’t know you were close with your nana.”

  She nods. “She’s my dad’s mother, and we grew very close after he passed away. She’s actually a lot of fun.”

  “Good.” I nod as my cameraman waves at me, signaling that we’re almost finished. “Enjoy her, and we can see the falls another day.”

  “Sunday?”

  “Perfect.”

  She nods and rushes into her office as I walk toward Mia, staying just out of the camera’s view.

  “And that’s it,” she says with a shrug. “Wait. Let me do that again.”

  She takes a deep breath, then looks up at the camera and smiles widely. “And that’s it. Trust me, if you follow this recipe, your guests will never want to leave your house.”

  “And, cut,” the director says with a happy nod. “We’ve got it.”

  Mia sighs in relief as the crew shuts down the lights and begins to clear out of the kitchen. We’re done shooting for today.

  I join Mia and pat her shoulder. “You did great.”

  “Really?” She wrinkles her nose. “I’m trying to get better about looking at the camera rather than down at the food all the time. I’ve never had to concentrate on anything other than the food before.”

  “I get it, but you’re really a natural,” I reply with a nod. “In fact, I’ve been thinking about talking to you about doing the Chef vs. Chef show we do. Have you seen it?”

  “Of course,” she says. “But you can’t seriously want me to go head-to-head with a celebrity chef.”

  “Why not? Mia, after this hour-long special about your restaurant airs, you’ll be a celebrity chef.”

  She rolls her eyes. “No, I won’t. I’ll just be that girl who was on TV once.”

  “Not if I have anything to say about it,” I reply with a grin. “You are beautiful, the camera loves you, and you know exactly what you’re doing in the kitchen. Viewers would devour it.”