Wiggling wakes me up. I keep my eyes closed because I’m wondering what Elizabeth’s reaction will be. She said she wouldn’t regret it. I don’t know if she’d rather I left last night or not. After one orgasm was reached, we were on the quest for the next one. After the fourth, we collapsed and I’m not sure which one of us fell asleep first.
Elizabeth has turned toward me because my hand was resting on her stomach and now it’s on her back. The worst thing that could happen is she regrets it. Her fingers trail over my chest for a moment. Her forehead just barely rests against mine and I hear and feel her exhale.
“Marc,” she whispers just as she pulls away from me.
I let my eyes drowsily open and give her a small smile. She doesn’t look as if she regrets it, but I can tell those thirty-thousand-foot-tall walls of hers are back up.
“Time for you to leave.” She doesn’t sound regretful, upset, sad, or anything. Her voice is completely bland. That’s worse than her regretting it, I think.
“Lizzy!” Sylvia’s voice yells from another room. Just like that, Elizabeth truly locks up on me. “Did Marc’s truck break down or someth—”
“Don’t come in!” Elizabeth shouts. She moves further away from me and makes sure the sheets are securely covering her.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper to her.
“He’s here?” Sylvia’s voice screeches. There’s a brief silence and her voice is on the other side of the door when she says, “Marco?”
“Polo,” I reply loud enough for her to hear me.
Elizabeth bursts out laughing despite herself. I can’t help but smile.
“Oh my god!” Sylvia shouts. “I need to see this for myself. Please let me open the door, Lizzy.”
“No!” Elizabeth yells as she calms down. “What do you even want?”
“I wanted to know how the date went. Obviously, it went well. Right?”
Those hazel eyes connect with mine briefly, full of conflict, before she looks back at the ceiling. It’s almost as if I can see those walls doubling up and growing higher. “Make her go away,” she says softly.
“Sylvia, go home,” I demand. “If Elizabeth wants to call you later with any juicy details, she will. Otherwise, leave her the hell alone.”
It’s quiet for all of a second. “Did he just tell me what to do?”
“Sylvia!” Elizabeth yells, fully annoyed with her now.
“Okay, okay. I’m leaving.”
Nothing is said until we hear the door slam. Elizabeth’s hands are resting on her chest and they’re trembling. I know what that means. She’s starting to think too much. I grab one of her hands and give it a squeeze.
“You’re okay.” I almost asked if she was okay, but I’m hoping that by rephrasing it, it’ll help her.
“I don’t know what to do about you,” she admits quietly, squeezing her eyes closed.
“I don’t know what to do about you either.”
She turns her head and cracks a smile. “That makes me feel a little better.”
“Good.” I give her a quick kiss. When I turn to get out of bed, I finally see the clock. “Fuck,” I curse under my breath.
“What is it?”
“Practice starts in five minutes; I’m going to be late.” Which means I’ll most likely be benched from the game tonight. We have a job and unless it’s a family emergency, there is not much leniency for tardiness. I grab my pants and realize my phone died. It’s probably unlikely I would’ve heard my alarm anyway.
“What happens if you’re late?”
“Won’t play in the game tonight.”
“Oh, goodness. I’m so sorry.”