After hours

Chapter Thirty-Five

                The only thing better than a first date with Miguel was the second, and the third far surpassed that of the second. The fourth really truly swept me off my feet and by the fifth Daniel was nothing more than a sour taste in my mouth. A sour taste that I had to wake up and face every single morning when I went to work.

                Maybe I should give Patrick’s offer a bit more consideration. I wasn’t helping Daniel by staying here. If anything I was making his life harder. No matter how much we tried to ignore each other, working together was still a toxic threat to both of our jobs and our relationships.

                Rumors around the office, almost completely true rumors, had started surfacing. Especially after my birthday when Miguel showed up with a single cupcake and roses. He’d sang me a birthday song in Italian and had kissed me, during our kiss he’d slipped a tennis bracelet onto my wrist. I’d kissed him again and only moments later Daniel had kicked him out insisting that this was a work place and not some cheap hotel room for us to get our rocks off.

                I didn’t even bother trying to deny the rumors. Daniel didn’t deserve everyone’s respect as he once did.

                It didn’t matter anymore. Daniel and I didn’t matter anymore. What we had gone through didn’t matter. What we had lost, well she would always matter. But we were over. So tonight the only thing that really mattered was Miguel and I. We had decided to stay in instead of going out tonight.

                We were right in the middle of a heated kiss. Miguel slowly pulled the small string of my blouse, the fabric separate and fell open to expose my chest.

                I pulled away. “I thought you wanted to go slowly.” I teased.

                He twirled a strand of my hair between his fingers and watched my lips as he spoke. “We will.”

                My heart jumped and anticipation shook me to my core. I took a deep breath and nodded. We kissed again, I loved the way he kissed me. Slow and soft, like there was nothing else in the world he would rather be doing.

                There was no haste or panic to our love, there was no hiding.  We had no need to sneak around, to feel ashamed of our passion. We were open, as open as…my door?

                My apartment door was suddenly wide open.

                “Jesus!” I yelled and grabbed the first piece of material I could reach, Miguel’s shirt. I pulled it over my body protectively. “Daniel?!” I yelled.

                He was drunk, clearly. He was sopping wet from the storm outside and he was holding the set of keys I had given him so many, many months ago. He seemed stunned, everyone seemed stunned. He was not expecting to see Miguel here anymore than we were expecting for him to walk in.

                Miguel stood.

                Daniel glanced down and then quickly turned his held and shielded his vision with his hand. “Christ!”

                “Can I help you buddy?” Miguel asked, a perfect picture of calmness.

                “Miguel!” I hissed. “Put your pants on!” I said through gritted teeth. 

                He glanced over his shoulder at me and then back to Daniel.

                “Put your pants on!” Daniel demanded through slurred speech. “So I can kick your ass!”