“Ah, yes. Your cuddle partner, Darrel, called in sick for today. He had regretfully called in, sounding horrible. I can schedule you another cuddle partner if you would like someone to still come out to you today?” she asks.
“No, thank you. I hope that Darrel feels better. If you speak to him, can you please send my well wishes?”
“Of course. Is there anything else that I can support you with?”
“No, thank you for your time,” I reply before hanging up.
I walk back inside the bar and go in search of Noah. I need to make this right, and the only way that I know how is face to face. I need to apologize for being a bitch, and I need to maybe give Darrel a reason why. Noah is stacking boxes in the storeroom when I find him.
“Hey, bossman, I need to take the rest of the day off. Killer headache, and I don’t want to be grumpy with any of the patrons. Is that okay?” I ask.
He looks at me and smiles. “Sure, I’ll have Wyatt cover for you. See you on your next shift,” he says, getting back to work.
“Thanks, Noah, appreciate it.”
“Get out of here now,” he says over his shoulder. “Or, I’ll force you back on the floor.”
I race out of the back of the bar and run into Wyatt.
His strong palms land on my arms as he bends to be eye to eye with me.
“You solid?” he asks.
“No, I’m heading home. Sorry for earlier,” I apologize.
“Your burgers are in the bag on the bar, and that fella that was in here with you, he went in the direction of your place,” he offers with a squeeze of assurance.
“Thanks Wy,” I say leaving with my burgers in the direction that Wyatt steered me towards with the hopes to tell my cuddle partner that I want more.
Chapter Sixty-Six
When I find him, what would I even say to him? How would I begin to explain the way that I acted? Is there really a reason that I was bitchy?
I like him. That I will admit.
I am having issues with the clear divide that should be there when he’s at my apartment. I want to blur it, and I want him to want the same.
I’m absently walking up the driveway to my apartment and up the stairs when I see someone sitting on the top step.
“Darrel?” I say as he stands up.
“Can we talk?” he asks.
I motion towards my apartment, and he moves aside to let me open the door. He walks over to the couch and sits. I put the burgers on the stove and my purse on the counter then join him.
“I’m sorry,” we say in unison.
“Why are you sorry?” I ask. “Wait, no. Let me talk first. You shouldn’t have to apologize; I was the one who was insensitive and a bitch. So, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so mean, and I should not have let my insecurities come into play. I like you, Darrel. And I don’t want to ruin whatever this is.”
“I like you too,” he says quietly.
My mouth is dry at his admission. I shake my head, likely thinking too deep into it.
“Well, okay, I’m glad we’re cool. But again, I’m sorry. I have insecurities, and no one around here knows that I use a service for cuddling. I guess I’m a little ashamed.”
“Why would you feel ashamed?” he asks, his hand going to the back of the couch as he angles himself in my direction.
“I don’t want people questioning why I use the service. A town like this would think that I’m desperate or something. I don’t know. I just don’t want the town to start any gossip. ‘Why can’t poor little Debbie get a real man to hold her? Why does she have to pay for that?’”
“Don’t listen to gossip,” he says simply.
“I don’t think that it’s that easy, sorry.”
“What if, and I’m going to be brave here and go out on a limb, but what if you stopped paying the agency for my sessions?” he asks.
“Then I would need to fill the time in. Wait, are you not wanting me as a client anymore?” I reply in a panic.
“I don’t,” he says, his eyes on mine.
My bottom lip trembles, and the emotions that I felt earlier seem to come to front. I start to stand, but Darrel’s hand reaches out and grabs my wrist. He pulls me back down.
“Please, can you let me go?” I ask.
“Can you let me finish?” he asks.
“Okay,” I reply.
“What I mean when I say that I don’t want you as my client anymore, is that I want you in a different capacity in my life. I want something a little more. And I know that this is so fucking unprofessional of me, but I think that you feel the same way. Am I making a huge fool out of myself? Shit, I am, aren’t I?” His panicked eyes shift from looking at me to the ceiling. He mouths “shit” on repeat until I put my hand on his.
“I like you, Darrel,” I repeat.
“You don’t have to let me down gently.” He shakes his head.
“I like you, Darrel,” I say again.
“Okay,” he says slowly.
I lean toward him and tug his hand towards me. A moment later, our lips meet, then a split second later, our tongues. My hand reaches around him, and my fingers dig into his hair as I pull him closer to me. He closes the distance between our bodies and wraps his hand around my waist. I move to sit astride him, and his hand moves under my t-shirt, pressing me against him. My hips begin to move against him, in search of the impressive bulge that I’ve felt so often during our sessions.
His large hand cradles my jaw, and he angles his head opposite mine, deepening the kiss as I moan.
Darrel pulls my shirt over my head, briefly breaking the kiss and then diving back in for more. His fingers fumble for a second with my bra clasp before releasing my breasts from the confines of the silk fabric. Darrel pulls back from the kiss, breaking contact, and looks down between us.
He licks his lips and a slow smile forms as his hands reach and he cups me. He squeezes my breasts and bends at the neck to pull my nipple in his mouth. His head moves back, and he licks around my nipple then he pulls the pebbled peak back into his mouth. I arch into him, my fingers threading through his thick locks, and pull him to me as I let out a loud moan into the otherwise silent room.
Chapter Sixty-Seven
I’m not wearing a shirt.
I’m currently sitting on Darrel’s lap, and his hands are on my breasts. No, make that one breast is in his palm and the other breast is in his mouth.
I’m on the brink of combusting, but I move away from Darrel quickly.
“We need to slow down just a second here. One minute, I was apologizing for being a bitch, and now I’m half-naked and ready to cream my pants,” I say, standing and grabbing my shirt off the floor and covering myself with it. Darrel reaches for me and pulls me back to him.
“Creaming your pants?” He smirks.
“I mean, yeah.” I nod. “That’s what happens when you come in your pants.” I smile at him, hiding my embarrassment.
“I see no problems with this. In fact, that means we’re doing something right,” he replies. “I mean, we’ve had weeks of foreplay, and I really did come here to just hang out. This is an added bonus that I will not pass up.”
“Maybe we should talk about what we’re doing first,” I offer.
“What we’re doing,” he repeats. “What we’re doing is exploring one another, learning what the other likes in hopes to pleasure the other. What we’re doing is giving this, whatever this is, between us a try. And in between all of this, I am going to cuddle the fuck out of you. But what this is between us will be whatever you are comfortable with. I like you; I’m okay with blurring the lines and crossing them if you are.”
“I like the sounds of this,” I reply, kissing him gently. His arms return around me, and he pulls me against him, my chest against his. I can feel him swelling up below me, and it takes every ounce of determination to not move my hips for the friction. He pulls away this time.
“Okay, now if we continue like this, I’m going to be the one creaming in my pan
ts, and I haven’t done that since I was in middle school. I don’t wish to repeat that again now.” He smirks.
“So, let’s take a step back. I brought home those burgers from the bar.” I pull my shirt over my head and turn towards the kitchen.
“I’m sorry that I just walked out. I should have been more adult about it and stuck around.”
“No, it’s my fault. I was out of line and more preoccupied with the gossip of this town versus what I wanted, what you wanted.” I turn to him as he comes to my side. His hand is on my hip, and he leans in to kiss the space just below my ear.
I hand him the bag and then reach to just in front of him to open the cabinet with the plates. I pull two down, hand him one, and smile.
“The getting to you know part is easy, since we kind of know one another already,” I state as he hands me a wrapped burger to put on the plate in front of me, and he does the same.
We move to the table and take seats across from one another. I take a bite out of my burger and wipe the corners of my mouth free of the condiments escaping the sides of the bread.
He chews and looks at me with a nod.
“I think that there is, of course, more that we can learn from one another, but we don’t need to rush any of it. We know some of the basics, and I think that is what any relationship is like. A work in progress.”
“A work in progress?” I question with a tilt of my head.
“Yeah, basically we know surface level shit, but in relationships there’s always that chance to dig deeper. As humans, we’re ever evolving. One thing will affect you differently one day versus six months down the line. Think about it this way: sure, we have our jobs and those can be predictable, but outside of that - it could be like an emergency room. Not in the fatal aspect, but in the aspect that anything can happen from one point to another.”
I nod and like his mode of thinking.
“Did you always want to be a medic?” I ask him.
“I did. I still want to, but I think I just needed an empathetic break. I saw so much negative that I needed some positive in some way. I needed the comfort too. I needed to know that I was relieving something in someone else. I’ll go back to be a medic someday. Hell, I have training that can be put to good use, and it would be shit of me to not give back, but right now, I have downtime. I make my own hours, in a way, and I get to know all kinds of different people on a whole different level.”
“That’s a different way of looking at it. Obviously, I’ve only been on the receiving end, but I can see how it’s about the giving aspect too.” I take another bite out of the burger.
“What about you? You work at the bar, is there anything else that you do?”
“I’m taking online classes to become a teacher.”
“A teacher? That’s pretty cool. How much longer do you have?”
“I have about two more years.” I smile.
“What kinds of schools are there here? For a small town, I can’t imagine that it would be many.” he says.
“There’s a school just outside of town, by the house that Missy bought. The school is an all-ages, so it goes from the littles to the bigs. A few of the neighboring towns all come out to the school.”
“Is that where you would want to teach?” he asks.
“If they will have me, sure. It would help me keep my job at the bar, my apartment here, and I wouldn’t need to uproot everything. But I’m open to it, just not prepared just yet. Which brings up something about the two of us. You live in Hollybrooke, I live here in Mercy. I saw the back and forth happen for a bit with Luke and Rhi, and it didn’t look like fun. It almost tore them apart, and that worries me.”
“What about it worries you?” he asks.
“Well, it’s not exactly the shortest drive between where we live. I work weird hours being a waitress and all, then I’m doing school work sporadically too.”
“There are numerous couples who work, go to school, and have long distance relationships. I think we could do it. Do you know what the battles were between your friends?”
“I think it was just a little bit of distance made it hard to deal with. Plus, Rhi’s car took a shit, so there was that too.”
“Well, you’re in luck. I have a brand-new car, and I don’t see that being an issue. Let’s give this a try. Remember, we like one another, what could it hurt?” he asks, taking the final bite from his burger and licking his fingers.
Yeah, what could it hurt?
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Three days went by after Darrel left my house with a simmering kiss and a promise to spend the whole weekend with me.
I cancelled the rest of my appointments with Darrel and staggered the appointments with Mrs. Maxwell. Tre from Cuddle Puddle tried to get me signed back up with Devin, but I declined and told her I had no extra time.
Which was the truth.
I have the whole weekend off now that Wyatt has begun working in the front of the house more and more. I have busted my ass over the past three days to finish my essay and to get some reading done, so I wasn’t sitting around doing homework all weekend.
This is a new thing for me. I have grown so used to working all the time and then doing homework when I’m not working. It’s been a while since I’ve been in a relationship, but I’m not complaining.
I look to the clock and note that I have a few hours before Darrel gets here, so I pull out my assignment list and look around my space. I need to create a visual lesson plan, and I need the wall space to create it. I look to the wall above my couch, and the wheels begin spinning. I jump off the couch and grab my giant easel sticky note pads and put three of them side by side.
I’ve got my markers around me, a calendar, and a rough lesson plan unfolding in my living room when a knock echoes through the space.
Has it really been three hours? I look at the mess of my living room and sigh. It’s better for him to see my lack of cleanliness when I’m deep into a project now versus later and have him freak out.
I pull open the door and offer him a big smile, then realize that I forgot about that shower I was planning to take before he came over. Knowing that I look like I’ve been working out is likely not the best impression for someone I want to get into bed with.
My shirt is torn at the neck, baring my shoulder and my pink bra strap. My pants are of the stretchy and yoga kind. Darrel takes in my appearance and gives me an appreciative smile as he scans my body with a low whistle.
He is wearing a plaid shirt, glasses, and worn jeans. Has a duffle bag slung over his right shoulder, and he holds a brown paper bag in his hand, which is promptly held out to me.
“I brought us, um… snacks,” he says hesitantly.
“Snacks?” I take the bag, step aside to allow him entrance, and look inside the bag.
It’s as if he raided a child’s Halloween stash with fun-sized chocolate bars and all sorts of other candies. I look up to him and he smiles.
“I doubt that you eat that crap, but it gives me a good reason to get it out of my kitchen. I was raised to bring something when you go to someone’s house, and I forgot to grab something until I was running out the door. Please don’t feel like you need to eat it, and you are more than free to toss it.” He smiles.
“You brought leftover candy? Candy, that you do not want?” I ask.
“I mean, I felt that it was rude that I wasn’t bringing something over, so I grabbed the first thing that I could find in my cabinets.” He shrugs. “Really, please do not feel obligated. It was stupid, I know.”
I see a smile tug at the corners of his lips and think otherwise. He drops his bag beside the end of the couch and then approaches me, places his hands on either side of my hips, and pulls me close to him to settle between his legs.
“Hi,” he says quietly.
I push my arms through the space between his elbows and his body and wrap them around his middle. I put my head against his chest, breathe his soapy scent in, and breathe out a hello back to him.
/> “Sorry my place is a mess; I got lost in an assignment and forgot about setting a timer to get ready for you,” I say as I step back slightly to look up at him.
His smile is endearing and the corners of his eyes crinkle as he speaks.
“I don’t want a fake version of you. I want the real you. I don’t care if your place is trashed.” He pauses and shakes his head. “Let me clarify, as long as you’re not hoarding shit and have rodents, I think we’re good. I want to see the day to day version of you, and if you need to focus on school work, all the more awesome. That’s me seeing you in your element. And that’s what makes a relationship work.”
“Okay, let me just tidy up what I have here and then… yeah.” I move towards the couch and begin to pile up my notes while Darrel comes to stand beside me.
“What’s all this?” he asks.
“This is my visual lesson plan, one of my assignments for this week.”
“What’s the plan then? Teach it to me?” he asks, sitting down and folding his arms in his lap with a straight back.
“No, this is designed for school age.”
“Try me?” he asks.
I look at him and see the eagerness in his eyes and set down the papers in my arms.
“Okay, so each of the papers on the wall above your head will represent a part of the day that will focus on different growth aspects for a child,” I begin and begin breaking down the day. He asks questions, and I answer them, reframing some of the curriculum from the practice. Another hour later, I’m finally sitting down beside him.
His arm wraps around my shoulders, and he pulls me against him, kisses the top of my head, and smiles.
“I like the gist of what you got there. I think you’ll be a great teacher,” he replies.
“That’s just the framework, there’s so much more that goes into it. It’s such an unappreciative job that I’ll be kicking myself in the ass in the future once I am officially a teacher.”
“Either way, you’re helping the kids,” he replies. “You know, molding the minds of tomorrow and shit.”
The Neighborhood Series (The Neighborhoood) Page 25