Page 41 of Exit Strategy

Kurt was sitting on the couch and had turned on the gas fireplace, the cheerful orange flames flickering among the fake logs and making the big, stark room almost homey.

“Hey,” he murmured and gestured at the coffee table and the paper plate with a sandwich and chips on it.

“Thanks,” I said softly and lifted the tab on the can of soda next to it, sweaty with cold condensation from the cooler. It hissed and crackled as I opened it and took a drink, the carbonation burning all the way down, the liquid soothing my parched throat, nonetheless.

“You alright?” he asked curiously, and I put on a brave smile and nodded.

“Yeah, thanks for this,” I said.

“Mind if I go on up and shower before bed?” he asked. I pasted on my smile and shook my head.

“I don’t mind at all, why would I?” I asked.

“Just making sure,” he said, and he put his foot down off the nearby chaise end of the couch and got to his feet. “Come on up when you’re ready,” he said.

“Is the door locked?” I asked.

He diverted his path from the bottom of the stairs to the front door and checked.

“Yeah,” he said, and I nodded.

“Thanks,” I murmured.

“No one knows we’re here, Love. You can relax tonight.”

I nodded and let out a shuddering sigh.

“I feel like I’m microchipped, you know?” I asked with a nervous laugh.

“You’ve had CAT scans and MRIs, I would know,” he said with a smile, his hand on the banister. “I also wouldn’t put it past those bastards,” he said and banging his hand lightly on the wood a couple of times, he started his ascent.

I watched him go and said to myself and the empty room, “Yeah, me either.”

The sandwich was good, even though I barely tasted it. The chips thick cut and salty with the tang of vinegar. I finished up, and sat drinking my soda, staring into the flickering flames in front of me. After a time, they went out and I smiled. It must have been on a sleep timer. I yawned and went upstairs.

I could hear the steady hiss of the shower head and the irregular patter of water hitting stone. Kurt was still in the shower, and though I know he valued his privacy when he showered, I couldn’t resist a peek. I glanced around the corner into the bathroom to see him leaning, arm braced against the gray slate, his forehead braced against that arm as the water beat against his back, running down his body, over the absolute perfect globes of his ass.

I felt myself blush, and jerked back into the room, willing my heartbeat to settle.

I turned and looked at the wall of glass overlooking the balcony and plucking the light throw blanket from the corner of the bed, opened the sliding glass door.

“Callie?” I heard from the bathroom.

“Yeah, just stepping out onto the back deck!” I called.

“Alright,” he called back.

I wrapped the throw around my shoulders and stepped out into the cacophony of spring peeper frogs and crickets. At least, they sort of sounded like crickets. I guess it could have been something else.

I closed my eyes and immersed myself in the warm, sultry evening air and the sounds of nature all around; jumping slightly when Kurt made a sound coming through the open door behind me. I looked back over my shoulder at him in a pair of black drawstring lounge pants, rubbing a white towel over his short hair. His finely chiseled chest flushed from his hot shower.

“Feels cooler out here, now,” he said, clearing his throat.

“I like the sounds,” I said, turning back to the darkened treetop view, the branches and leaves rustling in a slight breeze that picked up. I laughed nervously, acutely aware it was just him and me after I’d shamelessly peeped on him. “That was magical,” I murmured.

He nodded but didn’t say anything, just stood beside me, towel over his neck, hands hanging loose at his sides. I slipped my hand into his without thinking and he looked down at them for a second before gradually holding my hand back.

“I could get used to this,” I said softly, and I could feel the color in my cheeks, across the bridge of my nose.

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