Stained Glass Shards

2.

The hotel room was absolutely decadent. When I saw the sumptuous bed, I immediately undressed, left my clothing on the floor, and entered the plush covers. I burrowed into fresh sheets, lightly scented with lavender and hibiscus.

"What are you doing?" Ritter asked, seemingly amused by the faint moans of delight I uttered underneath the soft covers.

"I'm going to take a little nap," I replied, nestling into the warm bedding.

"Sweetness, we don't have time for you to take a nap. We have a lot to do before our meeting tomorrow."

"Rit... did you overschedule me?" I glared at him as I awaited a response.

Looking sheepish, he paused in the midst of placing his folded clothes in the drawer, then smiled and shook his head. "I'll give you an hour to rest and then you have to get ready to have fun, okay?"

My attempts to sleep were thwarted by the vibrancy of the city below our window. It was no louder than Boston, but I tossed and turned, trying to think of Ritter and all the things he had planned.

And my thoughts drifted back to memories of Griffin.

I reminisced of a winter when he'd visited Boston. Poorly prepared for the snow squalls inundating the city, he'd knocked on my studio door, covered in snow. His golden hair, frozen in parts, was darkened brown from the moisture. His angelic face was ruddy from the chill of the freezing air. Despite his condition, he grinned at me when I opened my door. Once again, he hadn't called. He'd just shown up—I suspected he wanted to catch me with another man as if I were cheating on him despite our lack of commitment.

What was our status?

Friends?

Boyfriend and girlfriend?

Lovers?

An amalgamation of all, but a secret to everyone.

After I'd removed every stitch of his wet clothes, placed them near the radiator, and dried him off, feeling an overwhelming sense of love and compassion for the man who'd trudged through a blizzard for me, we had sex.

Back then, I'd made love, but I knew his feelings were not the intense adulation I held for him. Still, our lovemaking had been tender and warm despite the frigid temperature of his body. I'd kept the covers over him while he writhed on top of me, ensuring to protect every inch of him so he would thaw. With each glide of my hands and feet over his flesh, he groaned and hissed from the sensations on his skin.

I hadn't enjoyed the pleasurable act because I was so focused on taking care of him.

Griffin had always elicited my nurturing instinct. Spent from pleasure and yielding at last to exhaustion from his trek through horrendous conditions, he lay on his side and fell immediately into a deep sleep. I nestled into his body, stealing the natural warmth of his core as I held him against my heart.

I said a silent prayer that we would continue to spend our lives together.

A misplaced hope.

His strong breathing had rocked our bodies, lulling me to sleep.

My haunting daydream had disrupted my rest. I threw the covers off, unable to erase the memory of Griffin's muscular body, and shook my head to jar it away.

"Couldn't sleep?" I was startled at Ritter's voice. He sat across the room and turned away from his laptop to give me a perplexed look.

"No. You've shamed me into wakefulness," I answered.

I heard him chuckle as I walked to the bathroom. I could feel his eyes on me the whole way.

Griffin would have made a crude statement about my ass or my breasts, but Ritter examined me furtively. And I felt sexier for it.