“I’ll bide my time.”

 Our timing has always been terrible. Don’t make the same mistake I did. I haven’t given up on us.

38 and rainy

 You told me you miss the rain. I think of you on every gray, misty day.

Maybe you wake up when I try to sneak out but we start kissing and can’t stop. “Call in, I want you here.” We fuck. Slow and soft, go back to sleep for an hour. I want to go out for breakfast but you have a call you can’t miss so I make something. Surprised you have groceries on a Tuesday. 

I read while you work. Sitting in a chair in the corner of the room. I haven’t turned the page in 10 minutes. I’m listening to you talk. The words don’t mean much to me but the tone in your voice turns me on again. Watching your wrists move, the way you lean back in your chair, stretch your neck. Strong and confident. You’re good at this.

When you finish your coffee you go to the kitchen and come back with another, but this mug is for me.

You wait for me to take a sip. Tea. Orange. Honey. “Did I get the right one?”

“Thanks Boss,” I smirk. 

Back of the car

 “Hold hands in public, hold hands in private, hold hands like you will float away if you let go.”

I hate that I can’t remember your voice. I just want to hear you say my name.