I’d told him we could order whatever else he needed, and I’d find space in my house, but he’d shrugged it off and said he’d be leaving soon anyway. When I answered with, “For next time,” he’d given me that smile that had the power to knock me on my ass. After that, he’d blown me, which was fucking great.
But now it was almost the end of the week. Anson would be going back to Atlanta when I headed to DC, and damned if that thought didn’t leave a rock in my gut. He had seriously fucked with my head…my heart…all of me. I was crazy about him, afraid to lose him, and I had never in my life been afraid of that before. That aspect of being in love was shit, and I could do without it.
We still hadn’t discussed much of what happened from here. Like I’d told him, I didn’t think we’d have all the answers, and even when we thought we did, things never went as planned, so I figured we’d be playing it by ear. Now, though, I was the one who wanted answers, obsessing over what we were going to do and how we were going to make this work. All I wanted to have to worry about was when I could get home and have him inside me or what it would be like when I had his ass.
My day was packed with work, signing off on press releases and statements and an interview with one of the local news stations. By the time I got off, there was nothing I wanted more than to go home and climb into bed with Anson…but it was only six, and we hadn’t taken the time to do any grocery shopping, so I called him before I left.
“Hey, you,” he answered.
“Why do you sound out of breath? Were you having fun without me?”
Anson chuckled. “No, I, well, I actually went for a jog. I wore my hoodie and sunglasses. No one noticed. I just needed to get out of the house.”
“You could have gone without the sunglasses. It’s unlikely someone would notice you running, and if they did, I doubt they would automatically assume you’re out for a run while your secret boyfriend is at work.”
The line went quiet for a moment, making me wonder if I’d said something wrong. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” he replied. “I just…like that word. Boyfriend.”
“Oh fuck. You are so goddamned sappy.” I laughed, but his response made me feel all mushy inside.
“You pretend you don’t like it, but you do. I soften your edges, Weston Calloway.”
He did. He really fucking did. I answered with, “I’ll grab dinner on the way home.”
“I can’t remember if I told you, but I ordered a new workout machine online. They delivered it today, but it’s in the garage. We need to find a place for it and, well…I need help getting it there.”
“How did it get to the garage?” I knew he wouldn’t have spoken to the delivery guy.
“I moved it.”
I sighed. He shouldn’t be hauling stuff like that around on his own. “Leave it there. All I need is for you to get hurt trying to carry the damn thing by yourself. You’re football’s golden boy. I’ll park out front.”
I knew without seeing him that he rolled his eyes but also smiled. “Can we get the grilled chicken and veggies from that place you ordered from before?”
“Yeah, I’ll get that. See you soon.”
“Bye…love you.”
“Love you too.” I was glad he couldn’t see how big I was smiling.
I picked up our food—Anson’s dinner had brown rice and no sauce on any of it. I got teriyaki and fried rice because fuck that noise with all the healthy food. Between picking up dinner and traffic, it took me over an hour to get home. I was walking up to the front door with our dinner in my hands when I heard footsteps behind me.
“Oh, looks like I got here at the perfect time. Smells good.” Jeremy smiled.
“You wish.” I grinned back at him. It took me a moment to remember that Anson was inside, and Jeremy couldn’t know.
“Wow. Don’t be too happy to see me. You’re scowling.”
“No, I’m not,” I lied as if he couldn’t see my face.
“Um, yeah you are.” Jeremy headed for the door. “What’s up with you? You’ve been quiet.”
“Nothing. I’m just busy. You know how it is.” I stood beside the porch, not moving.
“Okay, you’re being weird right now. Is there a reason I can’t go inside or something?”
“Yeah, listen…I can’t—”
The sound of the door opening cut me off. “Hey, baby, I—” Anson froze, his eyes darting back and forth between Jeremy and me. He stood in the doorway, shirtless, with a black towel around his shoulders, wearing nothing but a pair of white workout tights. His hair was wet, as if he’d recently gotten out of the shower.