The Disappearance of Valentina Moreno

Chapter 18 ~ I Need Space

It isn't until now that I realize how little time I've spent in my boyfriend's apartment.

We're always at my place when Moses has a day off, and after each late night shift, he comes over to sleep. So, as we push through his apartment door, I shouldn't be surprised by the stale smell or the mail littered on the floor.

"I got it," he says when I bend to pick them up.

As he hastily scoops the envelopes and slaps them onto the entry table, I rotate slowly while removing my jacket. The drapes are closed on the windows, with sneaky beams of daylight peeking through and onto the worn, micro-sued couch in the middle of the living room. However, everything else remains painted in shadows, even the bare walls. Despite the lack of light, the pile of dishes in the sink catch my attention. So, I roll up my sleeves and head over.

"Where are you off to?" Moses catches me by the waist and reels me into his chest.

"To wash your dishes," I laugh, but he laces his arms around me and plants a deep kiss.

It's the kind of kiss that melts my knees like a snow cone and turns me into a puddle of sticky sweetness at his feet. When he pulls away, my lips chase his to reconnect. This earns a chuckle as he slips his fingers underneath the waist of my jeans and swipes them back and forth over the top of my glutes, teasing the bare skin. Then, he slips his hands lower, grabbing palmfuls of each cheek.

"Oh," I squeak.

"I have something else in mind. Dishes can wait." He plants another kiss on me, but before I get carried away, he breaks off the kiss, heaves me over his shoulder, and sprints to the bedroom.

We're frantic as we remove each other's clothes, but when we're naked, he presses tender kisses from my neck down to my abdomen. My stomach flexes, spurring him to look up at me.

"Ticklish?"

"Maybe."

"Good." He grins, then grabs my hips and flops me onto the bed.

His smile fades as he crawls over me to settle between my legs, and a trail of goosebumps follows each kiss as his lips work their way up my chest. When he gets to my mouth, the kiss is drenched with need, and I gasp from the sensation of him pushing into me—our bodies becoming one.

∆∆∆

It's getting close to supper time, and my stomach gurgles after working up an appetite, but Moses is snoring next to me, so I snuggle against his side. The intimacy was exactly what I needed during a time when I've never felt more alone, but as soon as it was over, the obsidian clouds rolled in.

I haven't been able to find the same peace as Moses and need to slip away, so I tiptoe around the bed to pluck his shirt from the floor. I've always wanted to be the girlfriend who walks around in her boyfriend's tee shirt, and when I slide it on, it's still warm from earlier. It even smells like his faint aftershave as I press the material to my nose while walking down the hallway. His apartment is the same layout as mine, but his walls don't have photos. I don't even see any in the living room.

Perhaps after losing his parents so tragically, photos are just painful reminders for him? Yet, he also doesn't have any pictures with his siblings.

Then it hits me.

There is still so much about Moses I don't know.

Over the last few weeks, everything has been about me. Sure, we have our late-night talks, but it's mostly about work and my life, not his. So, from here on out, I'm going to focus on learning more about him and putting him first for a change.