The Difference

Chapter 18

Floating in a layer of clouds, the first sensation filtering in was someone's weight on him. Had Paris, Blanket, or both snuck into the bed again? Michael tried hard to open his eyes, but sleep continued to pull him back under its comforting fog. Well, not really sleep; it was that odd in-between state where perceptions drifted seamlessly between reality and sleep induced hallucinations. Normally, it was pretty easy to wake up, mostly, because he never seemed to fall asleep soundly enough to have to struggle back to the surface like this. For some reason, this morning, everything felt like he had been in some kind of wonderful, deep coma.

No dreams, no nightmares, no fears...just darkness and comfort. He could not remember the last time he had slept like this.

His eyes flew open.

Oh yes, he did. This kind of sleep was what he had once jokingly termed Lisa-induced coma. It was not clear if her name or her unique scent won the race to the recall centers of his brain, bringing back a flood of images, sensations, and emotions. Emotions? Oh darn, so much for being emotionally vacant where Lisa was concerned. As he slowly oriented himself to place and time, he realized he was in his Westwood condo, on his back, in his bed. The weight he felt was due to Lisa being half on top of his body; an arm and a leg draped over him in an unconscious effort to keep him shackled. Her hair was spread out across his chest, covering up her face, tickling his skin.

Michael tried to move without disturbing her. The motivation was arising less from wanting to let her sleep longer than from the fact that her being awake would mean having to deal with the reality of what had happened between them. How could he possible answer her questions if he had no clue how he had ended up like this. Again.

Really, Mike? No clue? Not like you ask her to strip for you or anything.

Shoot. He sure had. What devils had ridden him? And then, he had let her stay. Well, it would have been cruel to kick her out in the middle of the night.

Ok, tough guy: Had you not resolved to stop wasting any kind feelings on her?

That was before. Before she had broken down, asking him to not make her leave. Before he was stunned to realize that the last thing he wanted was for her to walk out that door. Before she had come back from his room, dressed in nothing but his shirt, stirring some ancient masculine pride and possessiveness. She was wearing his clothing here in his place, and he wanted, no- needed- to have her back in his arms. Suddenly, he had craved to taste her, to drink her, to brand her with his tongue. To him, this was the ultimate act of intimacy, the ultimate act of possessing her. It must have been some kind of madness induced by having her body on him and around him, her eyes wrapping him into the azure haze, transporting him to another universe where confusion, anger, and regret no longer existed.

Sure, the questions had returned. He heard his own insecurities spoken in her words. He also wondered where in the world the past hours left them on the continuum ranging from strangers to lovers, friends, partners... Over the years, they had run the full gambit and had skipped around those definitions without ever fully settling on one. A day ago, he would have said they were strangers- separated by the emotional equivalent of fifty Grand Canyons. Now what? The questions were there, alright. Driven by intense fatigue and certainly a measure of cowardice, it had been so easy to push them aside, to let himself drift into the beckoning, silver-blue fog of sleep. Usually, that kind of sleep was a retreating mirage, a treacherous vision, always just out of reach. Last night- or this morning- it had raced toward him, enveloping and sheltering him.

Ok, moving did not work. How did this little woman manage to become such dead weight? He attempted to shift once more, and Lisa made a little moaning sound, snuggling more into him. Without knowing what he was doing, he reached out and brushed some of the golden tendrils to the side, revealing her half open mouth and flushed cheeks. She looked so young and he cursed the sudden wave of tenderness sweeping him. As before, alarm bells went off immediately.