Page 462 of Rock Me All Night
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There areeight million kinds of pasta at the natural foods store nearest Tom's place. He teases me about my indecision over noodle types.
"There is a recipe for pasta pomodoro." He holds up his phone to show off said recipe. "We can follow it."
I shake my head. "I cook from the heart."
"Then lead the way, Mistress Chef."
Okay. I can do this. Fresh spaghetti works. We still need basil, garlic, tomatoes.
I lead Tom to the produce section and take my time picking out ingredients. He hangs by the cart, watching me with a wide smile.
This could be our normal. We could live together, go grocery shopping every Tuesday night, sit at the table planning a menu together. It wouldn't have to be fancy. It could be half TV dinners and takeout, but it would be ours.
I get caught up in the fantasy of a life with him as we make our way to the register, to the car, back up to his place.
I'm not exactly an expert chef, but I do my best to take him through the dish step by step. Boil the noodles and set them aside. Coat the heated pan with olive oil, add minced garlic, tomatoes, pasta, basil. Every few minutes, he stops to pull me into a kiss, to whisper something in my ear, to tease me about being bossy.
He makes a salad. Sets the table. It's fucking normal, having dinner with Tom, like a real couple. Like this is forever.
After we finish eating, we cuddle up on the couch. It's his idea to watchRoman Holiday. He holds me the entire time, but he keeps his attention on the film.
It's overwhelming how good this feels. I don't snap out of my trance until I'm in the bathroom after the movie, splashing cool water on my face in the hopes of finding clarity.
This can be forever.
This needs to be forever.
* * *
When I get backto the living room, Tom is gone.
His clothes are not. There's one shoe on the couch. Another in front of the stairs. A sock a few steps above it. I follow his garments all the way up the stairs and down the hallway, to the open door of a bedroom.
Manners first. I knock.
"Yes?" he asks.
"May I come in?"
"Please do."
When I go to push the door open it gets stuck on something. A pair of boxers. Oh. He must be...
He's sitting on his bed naked.
It shouldn't be this remarkable given how many times we've been together but it is. He's magnificent.
He holds up his hand to show off something hot pink.
The vibrator.
"Wasn't that in my suitcase?" I ask.
He nods. "Wanted to use it on you."
I bite my lip. That is a wonderful idea but invading my privacy is unacceptable. "Tom, I—"
