I belonged to another man. I was in the home of another man. I was in the bedroom of another man. And yet, there I was, my lips pressed to someone else.
As I awoke, the morning light lifted my eyelids, bringing to my vision the large window that overtook the entirety of a single wall. That massive window gave me that awe-inspiring view of Boston that I never got used to; I woke up with a smile on my face.
I sat up slowly, clutching the sheets to my chest to cover my bare body. I then released a happy sigh, and turned to where I thought the mechanic had been lying beside me. Though I was surprised to find that he was not there, I felt my smile grow larger at the sight of the single white rose that sat upon his pillow.
Carefully I lifted it, stroking its petals as I twirled its stem between my fingers.
Joseph's floral button-up shirt from the night before lied at the foot of the bed. Without any desire to find my own belongings, I slipped the soft blue material onto my body, making sure to secure at least three of the buttons into place. Joe was so much larger than me that the hem of his shirt ended just above my knees, the rest of the fabric flowing loosely on my body.
As I stood from the bed, I took the gorgeous flower along with me, bringing it to my nose as I walked out into the living room.
I heard his voice at the same time that I saw him; he had his back turned to me as he spoke on the phone. He stood in the kitchen, fiddling with the coffee pot while he talked; his voice somewhat of a whisper. I reasoned that he might have been doing this out of a courtesy, in case I was still asleep.
Nevertheless, as I approached him, a floorboard beneath my feet creaked. At this sound, he twisted his torso, only turning the top half of his body around, phone still pressed to his ear.
Then I saw that smile.
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"Hey," I grinned, running my hand through my newly shortened hair. I then continued fiddling with the rose in my hand, my eyes on him the whole time.
"I have to go," he said to the person on the phone. Then he promptly hung up, set it onto the counter, and completely turned around to me.
"Good morning," he said, that smile never faltering. "And Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas," I replied, failing miserably at holding his gaze. He couldn't really blame me; Joseph stood before me completely shirtless, his plaid pajama pants riding insanely low on his hips. Every inch of what I couldn't see in the dark the night prior came to fruition right before my eyes. And with the amount of ab muscles this man had, there was a lot to see. The light hit every part of his abdomen almost mathematically. Never in person had I seen a more chiseled, muscularly defined man.
