Closer (Stage Dive 4.60)

“I never had any trouble sleeping in Afghanistan, but as soon as I returned stateside, it just all hit me. I don’t know if it was too quiet after being over there or what. But any little sound woke me up. I’d just be lying there wide awake and on edge. And the dreams…”

I didn’t know what to say.

“Also my dad was a truck driver and Mom used to hate it when he was away. Always said she couldn’t sleep a wink.” His gaze softened. “She wasn’t weak or frail. Trust me, no one wants to cross Mom when she’s in a mood. But she liked knowing someone else was there to help out if anything went wrong, I think. That she didn’t have to face things alone.”

“I can see that.”

“Do you think maybe you could lie down and take an afternoon nap while I’m here?”

I exhaled, untying the apron strings. “I suppose I could try.”

“Good.”

I packed up the baked goods while Ziggy went back to checking the apartment with the little black box thingy. Normally an afternoon nap was holiday behavior. A luxury item. I closed the curtains in my room and toed off my shoes. My king-size bed happened to be one of my all-time favorite places to be. Silvery gray pillows and comforter with a mattress that was to die for. I rolled onto my side and shut my eyes. Everything seemed strangely quiet. With the bedroom door closed, I couldn’t hear Ziggy’s footsteps in the main room. No taps were dripping, though the A.C. did click off and on. It wasn’t as dark as during the night, but I still felt weirdly vulnerable all curled up on my bed. Like someone was watching or something. Not a sensation I enjoyed.

If only my brain would shut up and shut down. That would be nice. Instead, it kept regurgitating the content of those horrible disturbing emails. When I was busy, I’d mostly been able to keep it out of my head. But not now. What kind of asshole would threaten a complete stranger? After my breakup, I’d been inundated with emails from his fans calling me a disloyal frigid bitch, among other charming epithets. They threatened me with all sorts of awful things. For a while I just deleted any message sent by a stranger. People could be such trash. Generally speaking, I tried to see the good in the world and all the people contained therein. However, some people were just oxygen bandits.

Then there was Ziggy and all he’d told me. I had so many questions about his life that I’d have loved to ask the man. If he’d talked to someone about his experiences when he got back from the Middle East. If he was okay. But we weren’t friends, no matter how cordial he’d been. I didn’t want to risk crossing any lines and having him stop talking to me. Not when he was maybe sort of starting to trust me a little.

Oh, man. This was hopeless. I got up and trudged over to the door. It was kind of Ziggy to try and help, but it hadn’t worked. Perhaps by tonight I’d be ready to collapse into unconsciousness. Pull a Sleeping Beauty and be out for an eon or two. Sooner or later I surely had to crash. Surely.

He was checking the locks on the glass door leading out onto the balcony. “No good?”

“No. Thanks anyway.”

“Go lie back down.”

“What?”

He set the doodad down on the kitchen counter. “I want to try something. Go and lie back down.”

“Mr. Thayer, what exactly are you planning to do?”

“Miss Cooper, please.”

I huffed somewhat crankily and headed back into my bedroom. “Fine. Okay. But whatever it is, it’s not going to work.”

“I appreciate your open mindedness.”

“Very funny.”

He followed me into the room, sitting in the charcoal velvet wingback against the wall. Plenty of distance away from my big bed though facing toward me. This was crazy town. And sadly, he didn’t plan on indulging in any naked shenanigans.

“I don’t think you watching me is going to help me relax,” I said.

“Let’s just try and see.”

I lay down, trying to get comfortable. But tranquil and relaxed wasn’t how I felt around my current crush. Stupid libido. Why couldn’t I just respect him for his mind? So shallow of me. “Isn’t this a bit above and beyond the tenets of your position?”

“Quiet time now.”

“Are you telling me to shut up?”

He sighed more heavily than any put-upon male has ever felt the need to sigh before. Truly it was mighty. “Mae. Please…”

“Alright, alright,” I said, getting settled. “But only because you used my first name.”

“You have to close your eyes.”