Page 18 of Forbidden
The one image that I cannot stop seeing… Me behind her, her on her knees, and me yanking on her hair, as I come in her and shebucks.
6
STORM
Over the next week, I start to get used to life in NYC, and my library job. My job is fascinating, and most of the people at work, are book lovers like me. My first day was scary, but overall, it’s perfect, and I enjoy studying and tracking rare books. The library is one of the best in the world, and it’s spectacular.
And NYC, I mean wow…
The big city feel is daunting at times. But it has amazing things to do, perfect bookstores, endless cafes, and bars, and I adore exploring parts of it.
The Central Park walks, and cool shopping areas are colorful, and fun. People are also mostly chill, and friendly.
As a bonus, I pull in my first clients as a graphic designer.
They’re not huge, but I have to design logos, and website details for a florist in Maine, a private zoo in Texas, and a weird café in Brooklyn.
I also shop more, as part of my strategy for Lorenzo. Long story, but it may do what I want.
And need.
A work friend told me I had great legs, and that I should show them off. I decided to go with it, and I also got some pleated skirts and cute long socks while it’s summer.
It is not my normal self, but I force myself out of my comfort zone.
Living with Lorenzo is an eye opener, too. We’re both busy with work, most of the time, but we talk at home, and as a roomy, he is interesting, and quirky.
Lorenzo has gone from a cold, guarded, reclusive lone wolf all the way to what most would call – a distant human.
He says little, and he still doesn’t open up about his life or feelings. Or his past, but we do talk about things when around home, and eating together.
Slowly, he is coming out of his shell, and letting me, or someone in his life.
Friend or other...
I suspect his reluctance is to do with trust, and maybe Lorenzo trusts few after whatever happened to him as a kid. Whatever seems to have messed him up, or traumatized him.
I’m convinced he has demons, or trauma from his childhood. I just wished I could help him. When we’re together, I try to have positive, playful conversations.
That’s basically me just being me. Annoying, uncomplicated me…
Whatever.
Even if it feels like we’re into completely different things, and our lifestyles are far from similar, living in his apartment is working.
My personal life feels contained to reading books, exploring NYC, and designing.
I tell Mom how things are going, and it is cool to catch up. We’re close but we’ve never needed to have constant weekly calls.
She tells me she’s fine, and that all is swell back home.
I don’t bother contacting my brother. We have little contact, he works in Alaska. We were never that close, but it is what it is, and he’s five years older than me. Dad died when I was young, and when home I visit his grave.
As I start to settle in over the week, I see less of Lorenzo. His reclusive jet setting lifestyle is kind of weird, and unless I’m wrong, he travels, reads scripts, raises finance, visits movie sets, and is forced to attend the odd movie premiere.
And no doubt, he is exploring media projects, and exploring panties.
For whatever reason, he remains overall, serious or grumpy. As if he is frustrated with himself, or the world.
