The Only Living Boy in New York

SEVENTEEN

Van

"You gotta get up, love."

I bent down and kissed Taylor's forehead softly, the morning light leaking in through the blinds of my room. She was still wrapped in my bedsheets, clinging to them for life, and groaned against my prodding.

She'd been spending the night regularly now, and I was finding it hard to sleep without her when she wasn't here. Which was one of the reasons I didn't want to break my own rule. Even medicated, I struggled to slip into a restless state when she wasn't entwined with me.

At first, it was just weekends. Then it bled into Thursdays and Fridays, and now it didn't matter. It was a Monday morning and we'd had a long weekend with each other. Taylor wasn't a morning person at all, and her alarm had been chirping for twenty minutes now. She'd swat at her phone and snooze it before rolling over and falling back to sleep. I knew she'd be upset if she ran late, so I leaned down and kissed her again.

"Come on Tay, you gotta get up. You're going to run late if you stay here much longer."

Her eyes darted open and she reached for her phone anxiously exposing her top half in the process. For a moment, I wished I hadn't said anything to her about the time. I couldn't get enough of her. We were hooked on each other and there wasn't a likelihood it would stop anytime soon. It didn't matter where we were or what we were doing, when the mood hit, it was over for each of us. Last night, we didn't make it out of the kitchen, and I'd used the island for support. The memory made my throat dry as I glanced over her while she jumped up and started racing toward the bathroom. I heard the shower water rushing and I thought for a moment about joining her. Maybe I could calm her down, ease her into a slower pace, but I knew she had a lunch meeting she was nervous about and I didn't want to shake her up more. The water didn't stay on for long either, and I figured she rinsed off without even getting her hair wet. When she emerged a few moments later in a towel, I realized I was right about the shower and also right about her nerves. Her face was contorted into straight worry and her lips were pressed together anxiously. I walked downstairs and kicked on the Keurig, dropping a pod into the slot and filling her mug halfway with creamer.

There were hints of Taylor everywhere in my place. Reminders she was in my life even when she wasn't physically in the same space as me. Clothes here and there, food and snacks she liked stocked in the fridge, and now coffee. I smiled at the thought, feeling the familiar pang of sentiment engulf me again. As time went on, I welcomed it more, I was still wary of it, but I was accepting it.

She entered the kitchen in a hurry, applying her lip color with her finger and reaching for a paper towel to wipe off the excess. Her hair was slicked back into a low bun and she'd put on a knee length dress than hugged her in all of the right places. I swallowed again, handing her the coffee I'd made for her. She returned the smile haphazardly.

"I'm sorry I'm grumpy this morning."

"You're not a morning person, love. And I know you have a lot on your mind today."

She didn't say anything as she sipped her coffee and we fell into a comfortable silence. Her phone buzzed and she turned to it quickly, typing a response and setting it down as she closed her eyes and took a breath.

"What are your plans today?"

"I've gotta meet with Dave at some point this week, so I'll reach out to him. But other than that, just working on some material."

She didn't say anything back but the stress all over her was definitive. I walked over to her and tilted her chin forward, forcing her to look at me.

"Hey...breathe. You got this. It's Monday, don't start your week like this." She smiled lightly and I pressed my lips to hers softly, not wanting to smudge her lipstick. The act of kissing her didn't help with the desire I had to attack her, now pooling in my stomach but I pushed it to the side.