(Book 2) This Could B Us

Part 47

Something wakes me, I look around in the darkness trying to pinpoint what I'm hearing. Reaching for my cell phone, it's just after 4 am. I roll over to see light coming from under the closed bathroom door, it occurs to me what the noise is, it's the shower. Guess who's home, I think to myself as I roll over and go back to sleep.

"Shhhaauugerrr," Prince whispers, as he kisses my shoulder, then my neck, his breath is hot on my skin.

I feel him push himself against my bottom, he's already semi hard. Oh, that's why he's home, he's horny, I think to myself. I'm not really mad at him, but I am upset, therefore, I'm not feeling overly amorous, I remain still.

He sing-song whispers my pet name again, along with another grind against my bottom. Abruptly, he stops and pulls his hips away just a bit, then says with a hint of agitation, "I know you're awake."

I sigh, "I am."

"What's wrong?"

Now there's a hint defensiveness in his voice, and since I'm foggy minded, I try to choose my answer carefully. I want to discuss this L.A. thing, not fight about it.

So I lie. "My allergies are giving me grief, my head is pounding."

It's not too much of a lie, this happens almost daily, but I'm so used to it, it hardly ever alters my behavior.

I hear an exasperated huff as he flops onto his back. "You have a headache?" He spits the last word.

"I'm sorry," I whisper.

"Does this headache have anything to do with me having to go to L.A.?"

Shit! "No," I say gently, still trying to prevent an argument.

Prince throws back the covers, gets out of the bed and storms to the bathroom.

Dammit. I lay In the bed for a few moments, I don't know whether to follow right behind him or not. I decide that staying in the bed won't resolve anything, so I make my way into the bathroom.

I walk in, there's no sign of him when I first enter, then he appears as he exits his closet. He eyes me standing there, and walks past without saying a word, he sits down at the vanity to start fluffing his hair.

"You're going to Paisley?" I ask gently.

His eyes are cold as he looks at me in the mirror, I can see his jaw clenching before he speaks, "Do I need your permission?"

I shake my head, and mouth the word "no" because my voice fails me, how can he be so cold sometimes? He resumes with the hair fluffing.

My voices returns, "Prince, I don't want to fight with you. Really, I don't."

He sets his pick down and stares at me. The man doesn't have to say anything, his eyes and looks do it for him, he's livid.

He stays quiet, so I continue, "You don't need permission to go anywhere, or do anything, I just want to be included."

I pretend to be him on the phone, holding my thumb to my ear and my pinky to my mouth, "Hey, Sugar, I have to go to L.A., I'll be back in...1 day...2 weeks, whatever," I let my hand drop.

"Just talk to me, Prince, please. Let me in. I don't need to know why, or where, I understand things will come up and you have to rush off, just tell me you're going."

He has stayed silent this whole time letting me plead my case, which I don't think I'm being unreasonable at all. His eyes have been fixed on me in the mirror. "Are you done?" he asks flatly.

I meet him with a hard glare, am I done? I place my hands over my face in frustration, then let them slide down. He's continuing to watch me stone faced.

"No, I'm not done." I say it gently, my tone even, I want him to pay attention for at least another minute.

He spins around in the chair, crosses his legs and folds his hands on his lap, he stares at me. He takes a deep breath then lets it out, "I'm waiting."

I run a hand over my face again, I need to make him understand my point of view, I take a deep breath. "Okay, say you're working away at Paisley one day and I just decide to hop in my car and leave. You have no idea I left, because I didn't tell you."

As I say the words 'hop in my car and leave' I see a split second flash of alarm in his eyes. It was gone as soon as it came, but I feel he just might understand now.

"Now, I'm done," I say softly.

I turn and disappear into my closet to fetch my robe. Once the robe is secured, I walk past him, never looking at him, I leave the bathroom without a word. The house is dark, and I make my way downstairs, through the living room and out the back door. Music is his sanctuary, nature is mine.

It's dark, like really dark, but I don't care as I carefully make my way to the stone steps and sit. I take deep, cleansing breaths trying to center myself. I debate on whether I should have just let him have his way this morning. This just feels too big to sweep under the rug, he's got to learn to take me into consideration if he wants us to be together.

Lights going on in the house grab my attention. I see my office light go on, then the light in the foyer. The kitchen light is next, followed by the light in the garage. I'm sitting on the damp stone step at the back of the yard, in my silk nightie, staring at our house being lit up, room by room, like a Christmas tree. "What the hell is he doing?" I say aloud to no one but myself, and shaking my head.

The living room light comes on, I can see him plain as day through the big windows. He's looking around almost frantically and I see him say something. He spins, starts to leave the living room, then he stops. He looks towards the windows, but it's light in the house and dark outside, I know he can only see his reflection. Walking slowly to the back door, he reaches for the knob.

As soon as he realizes that it's unlocked, he's out the door and onto the porch, calling for me, "Dana?! Are you out here?

"Yes," I call back.

I see him slump in relief, he was looking for me, that's what in the hell he was doing with all the lights.

"Please come in, Sugar, it's dark out here."

I stand and make my way toward the house. He can't see me, but I can see him, his eyes are searching the darkness. I reach the steps to the back porch and now he sees me, he watches me as I climb up to him. As I top the stairs, he drops his gaze almost in a guilty way, "Sugar?"

I stand before him, "Yes?" I crane my head to see his eyes.

He lifts his gaze, meeting my eyes. "I'm sorry, I should've told you I had to leave town." His voice is soft.

"That's all I wanted, just for you to tell me." I whisper.

He holds out his arms, "Do you still love me?"

I walk into them and we hold each other tight, "Yes, always," I whisper in his ear, he squeezes me tighter. "I wasn't even mad, I just wanted us to talk about it, that's all."

Minutes pass, we stand quietly in each other's arms. When he pulls away, he takes my face in his hands, his eyes search mine.

A slow half smile spreads across his face as he asks, "How's that headache?"

I have to chuckle, he's like Jekyll and Hyde, his face is now full of desire and I can't even pretend to resist it, "It's good."

"Let's go upstairs," he whispers into my ear.

We leave every light in the house on and disappear back into the bedroom.