A Five-Minute Life

I bent my head to her until our lips brushed and then I kissed her. No fences or rules or hesitation. I kissed her with my entire heart that had been so fucking vacant until Thea.

Her mouth opened for me with a little sigh, almost like relief. I drank it down and when she moaned softly; I took that too. Inhaled it. Sucking gently because the need to have this piece of happiness was all-consuming. I’d been starving for it my entire life.

The first raindrops began to fall, lightly at first, then harder.

“Oh shit,” Thea said with a breathless laugh.

Lightning crashed, and the sky tore open. The downpour scattered the tourists and sent them running for store awnings while the native New Yorkers calmly opened umbrellas or pulled up hoods on jackets, unfazed.

I ducked into my jacket and shielded Thea with it as we made a mad dash back to the truck. We were drenched by the time we climbed in, Thea’s shirt clinging to her every curve.

“We’ve only been in New York for a few minutes, and I already love it,” she said, her eyes luminous in the dimness. “It doesn’t give a shit that we were trying to have a moment.”

“Not remotely,” I said. “Where to?”

“A close hotel,” Thea said, leaning to kiss my ear. “As close as humanly possible.”

I drove the truck to the closest hotel, the Hilton Times Square, grateful my jeans and the dark concealed how badly I wanted her.

Thea bit her lip as we pulled into the valet. “The parking is as much as the room.”

“I have it covered,” I said. “Let’s do the first night here. We’ll figure the rest out later.”

She grinned. “No script?”

“None.”

We climbed out of the truck, her with her backpack and me with the small duffel I’d packed after I’d received Rita’s text. Thea’s eyes widened as she watched me pull my guitar case from behind the front seat too.

“Are you trying to kill me, Jimmy?”

I shrugged, feeling self-conscious. “I don’t know. You keep asking me to sing. I felt like the odds were good you’d ask me again on this trip.”

“A billion to one, for.” She grinned. “But I have money too,” she added as I tipped the guy at the valet. “You’re not paying for everything. I’ll get the room.”

I didn’t like the idea of Thea spending a dime on me, but this was her trip and part of it was paying her own way after years of dependence on everyone else.

“Do you have something high up with a view?” Thea asked the desk clerk.

“We’re pretty booked…” He tapped his keyboard. “A-ha. You’re in luck. I have a standard room on the thirty-third, two queens, non-smoking.”

“Queen-sized,” she said, heaving a dramatic sigh. “I suppose we can make do.”

He smirked. “Do your best.”

Key cards in hand, we rode the elevator up to the thirty-third floor. The air seemed to thin out as we rose higher and higher, anticipation rising with it. I glanced down at Thea beside me. She looked up, rainwater dripping from her hair, glistening along her skin. Without a word, she stood on tiptoe and planted a kiss on my mouth. Soft lips and the smallest touch of her tongue before pulling away.

Goddamn, if nothing else happens, tonight is already perfect.

The lamps in our room were off, the drapes drawn. The lights of New York City were the only illumination. The grid lay spread below us or rose high in towering pillars. Obelisks of light.

“It’s so perfect,” Thea murmured, echoing my thoughts. She dumped her bag on the bed and moved to stand at the window.

I set my guitar against the wall and my duffel on the other bed, claiming it as mine if that’s what she wanted. For so long, even sitting across from her felt like an invasion of her privacy because she had no way to know if she wanted it. No memory to ask or answer.

Now she can tell me what she wants.

I joined her at the window, and we watched as lightning cracked across the dark night.