Cold Feet

Chapter 18

RICK

I wake up and roll over. Slowly I open my eyes and wonder where I am. As I remember, I reach out my arm and find the bed empty. I feel something against the soft bedsheets and lift my head as I grasp it with my hand. It’s a note.

Good morning Sexy.

I don’t usually leave men in my bed but you looked so peaceful and I had to go. Take your time and fix yourself some breakfast and coffee or whatever. I would be nice to find you as I left you but that might be asking too much. A girl can hope though.

And if my hopes make me horny that’s okay.

If you have to go that’s fine too.

Call me later whatever you decide to do.

C.

PS. Last night was awesome.

She’d written her number and I saved it in my phone. I read the message again. Short and sweet. Last night had been awesome and I have to admit I would like to be here when she got back but that might send the wrong message as much as we would like it. Like, I don’t have a home to go home to, or my life’s too sad to go home to so I’ll just stay here.

No. Not an option. Besides if I were to stay, it might create an unspoken idea of who is dominant here. And that’s just not going to happen.

I wonder why I’m even thinking of staying. I never stay the night so I’ve already broken my rule. Not intentionally though. I fell asleep waiting for her to be sleeping deeply.

Just an excuse, I tell myself. You broke the rule. It doesn’t matter how you dress it up. And now I’m actually contemplating being here when she gets back? Why? You know your rule. One-night stands and booty calls. That’s it. Nothing long term or anything that would suggest moving towards anything long term.

I sit up and pull back the covers. I look around and see she’s draped my clothes over the dressing table stool. I get up and head into the bathroom where I shower.

Feeling fresh, I get dressed and am about to leave when I realize it would be decent to leave a message.

No. Too much. I’ll text.

I leave her message on the dressing table. It’s seems less intimate than leaving it on the bedside table. Then I send her a quick text thanking her for last night and telling her I enjoyed it too. I don’t ask her where she is and I don’t allude to meeting again. Nothing to lead her on.

She replies as I ride down the elevator.

You woke up at last ?

Yep ?

You can have breakfast. Help yourself.

Thanks, but I’ll get something on the way home. I’m late.

Okay. If I had known you have an appointment today, I would have woken you.

Thanks. I think that would have made both of us late! Good luck for today.

Thanks. Chat later. C

Sure, I reply.

I’m not late for anything but it just sounds more plausible than saying I didn’t want to eat breakfast at her place. I wasn’t about to go through her kitchen cupboards and fridge to find something for breakfast. It’s a no-no in terms of boundaries.

I get home and get change into something more casual before cooking myself a breakfast of bacon, eggs and toast. I read the newspaper and relax in front of the television for a while before feeling the urge to get some fresh air outside. I decide to go for a ride and don my riding gear. I check my bike’s tires are properly inflated before I leave home. RêAd lat𝙚St chapters at Novel(D)ra/ma.Org Only

I love to cycle. It’s always great to feel the wind in my face and to take the opportunity to explore the neighborhood and parks at a pace slower than driving in a car. It’s almost meditational for me.

As I ride my thoughts drift back to Christine who I imagine is working her tail off at some or other wedding reception. I think I should have spoken to her about collaborating but then we can always talk about it at another time.

From what I gather, she is even more sought after as a wedding planner than Viola was.

At the thought of Viola, I wonder where she is now. She sold up and left. I don’t know if she moved somewhere else in the city or if she left town altogether. I feel sorry for her and what happened. In a way I wonder if I contributed to her business going under by offering my card to her client. I tell myself it wasn’t my fault. If anyone was instrumental in her business destruction it was the reporter with her damaging report on wedding planners and the industry.

I am disappointed that I never managed to get closer to Viola and reluctantly I push thoughts of her away as I do every time I think of her which is surprisingly often. I tried sending her messages but she stopped answering and I have now given up. Why I chased her so much I don’t know. I don’t chase any woman. Never have. Never plan to.

Before that thought is gone my thoughts turn to Christine again. I remember our night of passion and I have to admit it was one of the most passionate evenings I have had with any woman. What we had promised so much more but I don’t normally go back for seconds. I find myself in quandary as I explore a new area I’ve never been in before. I feel myself begin to harden at the memories of last night and the thoughts of what could be and I stop riding.

I sit on the sidewalk as I wait for my hardness to soften.

What’s wrong with you? I ask myself. You’ve never struggled for dates yet here you are thinking of going back for seconds. What’s up with breaking your rules?

The truth is I don’t know, but when I get home after my ride, I rush to check my phone for messages.

Christine has sent me a message.

See you tonight?

She followed the message with a picture of her panties captioned, If I’m sending you a picture of my panties it means I’m not wearing them…

The message was sent an hour ago. I need no more convincing. I’m hard instantly and I respond.

Tease. Your place? What time?

I’m surprised. She answers quickly but not what I expected.

Sorry couldn’t wait. I got no answer from you so I decided to withdraw the offer.

What? I reply.

You can’t keep me waiting that long. You snooze you lose. I’ve made plans with my girlfriends for tonight. I have tomorrow open. Yes or no?

I can’t believe this woman. She’s a challenge and I enjoy a challenge. I haven’t had a challenge before. I forget all about

Sure. What time tomorrow? Your place?

8 am. My place.

Okay, I reply.

I know I’ve just gone against all my rules when it comes to women. Never go back the next day or even two days like I am doing. But then rules were made to be broken. Besides they’re my rules and breaking them once can’t be such a bad thing. Can it?