Page 21 of Debts and Desires
There was nothing personable about any of it, making me feel dirty and ashamed. I knew what I had asked and what our agreement was, but still. I stood, putting my pants back on and headed to sit on the couch. I could feel the tears welling up and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop them. I asked him notto be nice, and he certainly delivered. There was no reason for me to be upset.
A soft head nuzzled my hand, startling me. I moved some, patting the seat beside me to allow Mac up. He gave a soft whine, licking the tears from my face before laying his head on my lap.
“Good boy, Mac,” I sniffled. At least I had an ally in this cage now.
By three,I was bored out of my mind. I tried to play some guitar again, but it wasn’t sounding all that great. I tried writing some more, but my heart wasn’t in it. I ended up rinsing the dishes in the sink and putting them in the dishwasher. Then, I just sat on the couch and stared at the TV until the dishes were done and put them away. Ortriedrather; everything in the cabinets was a mess.
At four, I grabbed a toy and headed outside to play with Mac for a little before he lost interest and we went back in.
When five o’clock rolled around, I felt nervous. Not only did I not know what to expect with Carter, but I was worried about what he expected from me. I mean, I knew what he wanted. I just didn’t know how. Was he always going to be this rough with me? Or did that change based on his mood? Did the man have any mood other than grumpy?
At five-thirty, the front door opened and my nerves spiked.
“H-hi,” I greeted, standing. He hung up his hat and turned to me. “How was your day?” I asked. I held my hands in front of me nervously, unsure of what to do. He looked me over for a moment before sitting on the bench to take off his boots.
“Long,” he grumbled. He stood and headed to the kitchen. Mac followed and so did I. Carter began grabbing things from the fridge.
“Do you, um, want help?” I asked. Carter ignored me at first, continuing to grab things from the cabinets.
“No,” he finally answered.
“Oh, okay.” I took a few steps back, unsure of what to do with myself. Deciding to sit, I glanced at Mac, who was already staring at me. I smiled and put out my hand. He trotted to me.
“He give you any trouble today?” Carter asked.
“No. He’s a sweet boy,” I said, rubbing the top of Mac’s head. Mac’s tail wagged as he moved closer to me, his head resting on my thigh.
“Good.”
Silence fell between us and I felt my anxiety building. I was hyper-aware of every movement he made as he cooked. I was acutely mindful of the way the shirt clung to his back and shoulders, the way his ass moved with every step he took. And how could I not notice how thick and muscular his thighs were? He was a massive tool, that was for sure, but he was damn sexy.
I’d never been with a man like him before, until last night, and I was both excited and terrified by it. Most of the guys I had slept with were tall, skinny, and socially refined. Carter was tall, broad, and rough around the edges. He could easily take any one of my exes and snap them like a twig. The only similarity was that they were all a bag of dicks. I remembered the afternoon and cringed slightly. Carter was the biggest bag of dicks.
The food smelled delicious, and my stomach growled. I saw him glance at me and I blushed, looking down at Mac instead. His head was still on my thigh, his eyes now closed as I continued to pet him.
“What are you making?” I asked.
“Garlic butter chicken and green beans.”
“It smells good,” I offered. He gave an approving huff. “Can I help at all?” I offered again.
“I guess you can get out the plates and shit,” he sighed.
“Okay. Sorry, boy,” I said as I stood. Mac moved, heading over to his dog bed. I washed my hands and began grabbing the “plates and shit”, as Carter had so eloquently put it. “Do you like cooking?” I asked, desperately trying to make conversation.
“Can’t eat if you don’t cook,” he responded.
“True,” I started. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy it.” I went silent for a minute, grabbing two cups from the cabinet to the left of the sink. “You said your day was long? What did you do today?”
“Worked.”
“Obviously,” I said, rolling my eyes. “What did you do there?”
“Fixed some cars.”
“Anything that made it a particularly long day?”
“It’s work.”
