Surge

He took my chin in his hand and lifted my lips to his. Soft. Minty. Drake…

I felt like crying again. When would I stop feeling like crying?

“What was my dad like?” he whispered.

“He was relaxed, cool, and totally calm considering what we’d presented him with. Maybe demeanor is genetic, but that really reminded me of you. Completely unfazed by the fact that we asked him to meet his son and get tested as a bone marrow donor a few minutes after saying hello.”

“Baptism of fire.”

“Yeah, it’s one hell of a way to meet a person.” I rubbed Drake’s leg. “He was good-looking, too. Which is definitely genetic.”

Drake blew a light laugh out of his nose.

“He works with a nonprofit helping ex-offenders and gang members in Gardena. Honestly, he seemed like a really decent guy. Also, your mom told me what happened between them and with you. It’s probably not what you’ve been imagining all these years.”

“Guess he can tell me about that.”

My breath hitched. “So you’ll meet with him?”

“Get busy living and all that.”

I threw my arms around his neck. The soft skin under his ear warmed my cheek, and I gave it an excited bite then whispered in his ear, “Thank you.”

He leaned his cheek in and whispered back, “No, thank you.”

We didn’t stay out long afterward.Drake was tired. This would be a new feature of our lives, but I didn’t mind. Slowing down would just make it easier to remember it all. Every moment mattered. And you needed to pause to take a picture.

We left the bar after the one drink and grabbed a burrito from a takeout place. I felt so at ease in Venice. I had to stop myself from wanting it all too much.

We went back to my car and drove to Drake’s apartment. He didn’t want to face his mom, and I didn’t blame him. He didn’t want to even hear her side of the story yet. That was fine. It had to be fine.

When we walked into Drake’s apartment, it was nearly ten o’ clock. Normally, we’d be wired for sex right now, but I could see Drake dragged his feet. I took him by the hand to the couch and slipped his shoes off for him, one by one.

“I could get used to this. King of the world,” he joked.

“This is a one-time deal.” I smiled. “I’m not sure acts of service is my love language.”

“You read that book?”

“No, my dad did. Trust me, we all got analyzed.” I sat next to Drake on the sofa.

He put his arm around me. “What did he say yours was then? If it wasn’t acts of service? What else is there?”

“Well…” I straddled his lap, “there’s physical touch.”

He ran his finger down my neck, slid it along each collarbone, and then eased it between my breasts. Instantly, my nipples tightened, and my core grew heavy.

I bent down and nibbled his ear. I urged myself down onto his groin, gyrating in circles.

Suddenly, his hands steadied my hips. “Babe. I’m struggling.”

I leaned back so I could meet his gaze. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” He glanced downward to his crotch then back up.

“Oh.” I lifted my weight off him. “Am I hurting you?”

“Course not. You’re a bird. I just… I think it’s the medication.”