Darlin' Will You Stay Right Here?

We saw a show. One of my favorites. He did not wear his work clothes. He wore this soft green tee that I'd seen on him in a picture and told him was a good color for him. He looked good. Fresh haircut, I think. The intensity. He picked me up at home in his gold Camry. Leaned over and opened the door from the driver side. I slid in, folding my legs in. I don't think he even kissed me hello. Maybe he did, but it was chaste.

I put on my seatbelt and he made some comment about never wearing his because he'd seen too many accident scenes where it was more harm than good. I just said "I know. I've seen your traffic court record. Slow down."

I figured if I was having a date, I may as well look like it. I wore high rise jeans with big flares and tears at the knees and a completely backless top that tied with a ribbon as its only way of holding on. Threw my rockstar leather over it. It was a chilly night. Red lipstick that was not supposed to budge. Well, it did a little. Drank a beer while I was getting ready. It was fun.

The drive wasn't bad. For Atlanta. Maybe it was the company. I kissed him at every red light. I think I could kiss him forever. We were a tiny bit late and missed one of my favorites from the lobby. Oh, that's too bad. We found our seats at the table with our friends. I put him where I could look at him. I ordered a stout and he ordered a grapefruit mule. Reached over to my knee. He always does. I scooted my chair closer so he could touch me because I could die with his hand on my knee, stroking my palm.

The music was amazing. Better than I've seen him solo. In good spirits and he sang so many of my favorites. Turns out he later added a really important song to regular enough rotation that it appears as a mutual song in our Blend now. He barely moved. He was paying attention. I leaned in and told him I was glad he was here with me. He said me too. I had another beer and he had another mule. Offered me a pull from his flask during that one song about hypocrisy and moonshine  and irony was not lost. I'd been fully served enough, thank you. He is the best show companion I've ever had. Attentive to both me and the music, doesn't talk during the music, stays close to me. Knows where I am at any moment and cares like it's his job to attend me. 

He took me home. I wasn't ready to say goodnight and I really had to pee. I let him in and ran upstairs to pee and throw the clean clothes on the bed from my getting dressed into a basket. The bed was made? He was standing in the foyer waiting when I got back down. I kissed him. I can't stop kissing him. Asked if he needed some water and he said yes. 

I took him downstairs to look at the painting on the easel. It's a pretty good one that really did come from my mind. And I'm glad he saw it. 

I'll never forget his fingers gently on my back, a little firmer across that trouble shoulder. It felt so good. I can't remember being touched like that. At least from someone I hadn't paid to work out that knot. So then I turned to return the favor. Across his chest and stomach and arms. His skin is beautiful. 

He finally left at 2:30. We'd been home by 9. What even happened to the time? He does that to me. I  walked him to the door. Kissed him again. I could die on his lips.

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