Matrimony Homies

41: Pleasing (Harry)

All week, I've been pining for her. It's an old-fashioned word, isn't it? 'Pining'. Sounds like I'm desperate to fuck Chris Pine. Ha! I'll have to text him and ask him if the word was made to describe being away from him specifically. He'll laugh. I'll laugh.

But I can't say it to Loren. I'm still not sure how she would react if I told her I was pining for her. Every time I try to comment about making our relationship more permanent in any way, she shuts down. Changes the subject. Freezes.

This weekend, though, I've got plans. I'm going to start by using my stash of toys to bring her to the brink time after time before I let her actually fall into the abyss. Some hard-core edging is what we need tonight. I've been figuratively edging myself all week in anticipation.

When she opens the door, I smirk and cock my hip. "Hi, babe. Ready for our weekend of pleasure?"

But instead of taking the hint, Loren presses a quick kiss to my lips before swiftly moving towards the kitchen, talking to me over her shoulder. "I've got to finish icing this cake I made for Brooklyn for her birthday tonight. You don't mind if we go to her party, right? I mean, we won't go as a couple of course, and – oh, shit. You probably don't want to go. You'll be recognised. I'll go by myself, but I promise I won't stay long. I'll be back before you know it." Barely pausing for breath, she adds icing to a piping bag and begins decorating. "How about I bring something back to eat? I'll go for like an hour, and then I'll pick up something on the way back, and then we can Netflix and chill the rest of the night."

Her excitement is high, and there's a bit of anxiety hiding underneath it. I recognise the signs after all these months in a relationship. That we're still keeping from my sister and mum. Not easy.

"It's Brooklyn, so you have to go. I'll be fine here," I say, downsizing my plans for the night. Mentally, I adjust the number of times I'll edge her from 6 to 4.

"Thank you, H." On tiptoes, she presses her lips to mine again, holding the icing bag to her side. Peeking at the clock, she squeals, "Yikes! I'm gonna be late! Let me finish this cake, and then I'll get dressed."

Settling myself on her sofa, I pick up the remote control. Why hadn't she mentioned this party in one of our conversations this week? I could have waited and avoided the worst of the traffic. Sigh. Oh, well. She's got Disney which has the Beatles documentary. I've only seen it twice, so I guess this is as good a time as any to watch it again.

I'm about a third of the way through the first episode when she appears again wearing a simple black cocktail dress that hits just at her knees, exposing her shapely calves all the way to her strappy sandals.

"Won't you be cold?" I ask innocently. It's not like there are going to be a bunch of guys checking out her legs, right?

"I've got a wrap," she smiles, showing me her lightweight cardigan.

"The wind will whip right through that. Shouldn't you wear something heavier? It's November after all."

Crossing her arms, she examines me. "Jealous, H? I promise I won't flirt with any cute guys tonight."

Wait. Guys? There are going to be guys at this thing?

Swallowing down my comment, I merely hold her sweater for her to slide her arms in.

"Do you need me to drive you? Will you be drinking?"

Casually, she pats my cheek. "Nope. Just gonna pop over there really quickly, and then I'll be right back here to spend time with my boyfriend."

"Oh? Is he coming over tonight too?"

My joke brings a smile to her lips, and I cringe at my own insecurity.