ACHES

6. roses

"Hello?" I answered the phone, staring out my living room window.

"Hi, sweetheart," he sounded busy, breathing quickly.

"Hi," I chirped, "What's up?"

"Are you at home?" he asked, a car honking in the background.

"Yes," I crossed my legs, watching a man in a bright red coat shuffle down the sidewalk. "But my other boyfriends are here."

"Room for one more?" he chuckled.

"I've never had a... What's it called when you have sex with five people at once?"

"I'm outside your apartment." And there he was, walking up to my door with a bouquet of flowers clutched in his gloved hand.

"Guess I can look it up later," I stood up. "I'll be right down."

I skipped down the stairs with a stupid grin, opening the door to let him into the stairwell entrance. He smelled like snow and roses. He handed me the bouquet, crisp white roses with heavy green leaves.

"For you, pretty."

"I love roses." I blushed, and he kissed my pink cheek.

"Can I come up?" he shivered, mouth cold against my face.

"I turned up the heating for you," I pulled him up the stairs, his boots echoing in the stairwell.

"I didn't say I was coming over," he frowned, stepping inside the apartment and escaping from his coat.

"But I told you I was free today," I put the roses on the counter, sitting on the couch. "Right?"

"You can't act like you know everything about me," he joined me on the couch, pulling me to sit with my back against his chest. "It's only been a week."

"Maybe you're just a simple man."

He kissed the top of my head, "Sure."

"You want to do anything today?" I asked, turning his hand over. I liked studying the lines in his palm, the callouses on the tips of his fingers, the dip in his pinky from his phone. He liked it when I pressed my thumbs into the meat of his palm, massaging and stretching out the tense muscle.

"Want to remember our first night together?"

I swallowed, waiting for him to elaborate.

"Don't worry," he laughed, "I know you don't remember."

"Fuck," I sighed, "I'm really sorry."

"Honestly," he spoke softly into the tip of my ear, "I don't remember everything either."

My neck was cold where his breath ghosted over me.

"It'll be a good one-week-anniversary activity," he sighed as my thumb pressed harder into his hand, "What do you say?"

"I would really love that."

"Come kiss me before we go," he opened his arms, letting me spin around to sit on his lap, my nose pressed to his. I smiled into the thick air between us, and at the sudden negative space as we both inhaled. He closed the distance, grinning into my mouth. He was gentle and calculated, and I took quick sips of air, failing to match his easy breaths. I kissed him to savor him, and he let out quiet sighs whenever I pulled back to take a breath. I tugged at his collar, and he kissed my cheek.

"Let's go," he whispered.

I was buzzing and hot, but nodded. I could taste his smoke in my mouth as we walked to the bar.