Nine

When we pulled into the driveway, I suddenly became flooded with anxiety. Erik saw it right away. “What’s wrong?”

I was chewing on the tip of my thumb nail. A bad habit I only resorted to when I felt backed into a corner. “I’m nervous.”

Erik waved my anxiety away like it was a lazy gnat in the car. “You have nothing to be nervous about. They’ll love you.” He opened the car door, got out, closed the door, and took a step forward before he realized I wasn’t following. He turned and gave me his “you’re acting so silly” expression. He walked over to my side and opened the door.

“I can assure you, it’s much warmer inside.”

I didn’t budge, just stared at the door of his house. It was intimidating.

He squatted down and folded his hands between his knees. “What are you so worried about?”

I glanced into his cornflower blue eyes. He was so calm. He was definitely the yin to my yang. “It’s more like who.”

“All right. Who are you worried about?”

“Your mom, and your sisters.”

Erik shook his head. “Not my dad?”

“Yeah, him too, I guess.”

“So… everyone?”

“Yes. Everyone.”

“You’re so silly.” See? Do I know his faces or what? He took my gloved hand and pulled me out of the car.

“Did you not just spend the night at my house? You see where I get my neurosis from.”

“That’s different, I showed up uninvited. They had every reason to be cautious around me.” Typical Erik, playing devil’s advocate.

“Cautious… Is that what you call it?”

He gave me a quick peck. “C’mon. It’s gonna be great.”

We left everything in the car except the flowers I had insisted on stopping for. Erik thought I was crazy, but I was determined to make a good impression. Smoothing back my hair, I took a few deep breaths before Erik unlocked the door. It was smaller than my house, even though more people lived there, but I didn’t mind. From the moment the door swung open and I took in the surroundings, I was in love.

It smelled like Christmas. There was the fresh scent of pine from the tree, even though I didn’t see it, I knew it was real. We had a fake one. Big wreathes were hung on doors, and the sugary smell of cookies in the oven was seducing me from the kitchen. I took a deep breath and felt my olfactory senses getting hugged in return.

“Erik?” a woman’s voice called from a back room.

“Yeah mom, we’re here.”

Mrs. Draxton appeared with a big smile on her face. She had short blonde hair highlighted in silver, and it was clear Erik had her eyes. She was about an inch shorter than me and wearing a white turtleneck covered with a yellow apron. The apron was peppered in flour. Whoa. She was baking real cookies, not the Pillsbury kind I kept in my fridge at home that Jaime and I used to make. “Oh Brit! It is so good to finally meet you!”

“You too. Thank you so much for having me on such short notice. It’s very kind of you. These are for you. Just a small thank you.” I handed her the flowers.

“Oh! How beautiful! And so thoughtful!” She smelled the bouquet then looked at me with a huge smile and pulled me into a hug. “You are just the cutest little thing. I can’t get over you.”

Erik laughed. “Mom, you’re going to scare her off, she’s nervous enough as it is.” Gee, thanks Erik.

“You’re nervous?” She touched my hair, curling an end around her finger. I wasn’t surprised. A lot of people touch my hair. I think they expect it to feel different. “Don’t be nervous! You’ll have a wonderful time with us, we’re very relaxed.” I glanced at Erik. What did she mean by relaxed? Had he told her something about my mom? Fucking paranoia. I needed to take a breath and just chill.

“Erik why don’t you show her around, dad’s out back. I’ll make you two a snack. You must be hungry from your ride.” She let go of my lock of hair and patted my arm.

“That sounds wonderful, thank you.”

Erik led me out of the mud room and into the hallway. “See? Easy.”

He showed me every nook and cranny of the house so I’d know my way around. Aside from the first floor, the only room Erik really saw of my house was my bedroom and that was with the door wide open and my parents pacing back and forth. I had noticed when he stepped inside my bedroom, the room actually felt smaller, and the bed bigger. Funny since I never really felt that way when Jaime was in there with me.

Erik’s house was so charming and cozy, just like him. Where my house was white walls with silver and black accents, Erik’s house was worn in chairs, old restored pieces of furniture, an old piano and pictures everywhere—some of the framed drawings I recognized as Erik’s style. I loved that. My mother would never hang any of my original artwork up. It wouldn’t even cross her mind. It was clear by the amount of paintings and sketches I saw lining the halls, his work was not only appreciated, it was celebrated.

There was also color! Every room was done up in a different shade than the last. But together it created a symphony of color. Where my home absorbed all my creativity like a Bounty towel, this house was inspiring. The hallways were a pale mustard, the living room a creamy caramel, and his kitchen was turquoise!

There was a sliding screen door in the den that led to the backyard. Erik stopped in front of it. “So, my dad’s outside. He’s chopping firewood.”

“Okay.” I assumed that meant he was busy.

“I just don’t want you to freak out when you see it all.”

“Freak out? What are you talking about?”

“Well, you know how my dad lost his job in October?”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah… he found a way to pass the time.” Erik ran his hands through his hair and pulled the sliding door open so I could step out.

Step out to the lumber yard that is.

Piles and piles of firewood were neatly stacked in rows. There had to have been thousands of logs. And they were all stacked to the exact same height lining the back of their house. In the center was Erik’s dad, head down while he swung an axe over his head and split a log in two. I jumped. My dad didn’t chop firewood. Mostly because our fireplace like everything in our home, was just for decoration. I think the dozen or so logs we had in the house were from the late nineties.

“Hey dad,” Erik called out to him, breaking Mr. Draxton out of his wood cutting trance. He was tall like Erik, and salt and pepper hair stuck out of his wool cap. He had a close-cropped beard that was mostly gray, and deep set, chestnut eyes.

He looked up at us, surprised he wasn’t alone and wiped the sweat from his brow. He carefully laid the axe on the ground as he pulled off his gloves and walked over to us. I gotta admit, I was super relieved to see him set the murder weapon to the side.

“Well, well, you must be Brit.” Mr. Draxton held out his hand, and when I took it, he gave me a kiss on the cheek. I was taken aback by the gesture but flattered at the same time. “I have heard an awful lot about you, young lady.”

“I can only imagine.” I looked at Erik. Knowing how carefully he professed his affections to me in front of my mother, I could only imagine what he said to his parents.

“Don’t worry, everything is good. I hear you play a mean guitar.”

“So I’m told.” I shrugged shyly.

“Well, I hope I get to hear you play while you’re here.”

I looked at Erik. “I see where you get it from.”

“Get what?” Mr. Draxton looked confused.

“My dashing good looks. Why don’t you take a break, Dad? I think you have enough. Mom’s making snacks.” Erik’s dad looked at the pile he still had left to chop.

He nodded but said, “Just a few more.”

“Okay.” Erik took my hand to lead me back in the house.

I didn’t say anything. What could I say? The man was obviously burying his frustration in lumber. But Erik felt a need to explain. “He’s been like that since he got laid off.” He looked painfully embarrassed. Something that Erik never really was. It was odd to see.

“Well, it’s better than drawing the shades and popping a pill to escape reality.” I shrugged. “We all cope in different ways. What’s next on the tour?”

Erik walked through the den into a narrow hallway with three doors. “This door is a bathroom. This door is laundry. And this door,” he pulled it open and flicked a switch that illuminated stairs leading down, “is my neck of the woods.”

I was nervous that once down there Erik would convince me to do all sorts of naughty. But I was also curious. Curiosity won. So I followed him down the rabbit hole. The stairs were covered in carpet so they hardly made a sound. My stairs at home were wood, so you heard every crick and creak.

Erik led me to the center of the basement. “Welcome to my man cave. I actually had the walls sound proofed so I could play guitar in the middle of the night and no one would know.” He pointed at the grey painted walls then stuffed his hands in his pockets and took a step closer to me. He tipped his head to the side and looked into my eyes with the most sinful expression. “That also means I could play with you in the middle of the night and no one would know.”

Shit. And just like that, he melted my panties right off.

Snap out of it, Brit! I crossed my arms and tossed my head back, determined to be a good girl. Pretending his comment didn’t faze me, I looked around and took in my surroundings. Erik didn’t lie, it really was like a little studio apartment. The large room felt more like two based on the placement of the furniture. He had a couch that faced the far wall on the right where a decent sized flat screen TV was hung. There was a simple wooden coffee table with a few guitar magazines. A small entertainment system below his TV that held his movies and gaming system, and a tiny fridge beside that.

On the widest wall was a large bookshelf packed with at least two hundred titles. At first glance my eyes caught a ton of fantasy titles. My kinda reads. I made a mental note to peruse his private library before my little visit was over.

Some more art was on the walls that he had done. Incredible drawings of figures, and a cool macabre still-life with skeletons dining at a candle-lit dinner. He also had a DMB poster with his many ticket stubs stuck into the frame.

There was a closet and an open door that revealed a small bathroom. I looked over at the other side of the basement, his guitar was resting in its cradle in the corner and next to it, taking up the most space in the room was Erik’s bed. It was a queen. My heart quickened just thinking about being under those covers with him. We had only been intimate in a college twin. Geez, we could both sleep in that bed and never even touch!

Seeing where my gaze was, Erik sat on his bed and leaned back onto his elbows. “C’mere.”

“No thank you.”

His face cracked into a look of surprise. “No thank you?”

“I’m trying to behave.”

“Since when is sitting beside me misbehaving? Did we not just spend hours together in the car? We behaved.”

“Yeah, I think I’ll stay in my safe zone.” I laughed and kept my feet firmly planted on the floor. If I sat next to him, we’d start kissing. Kissing would lead to touching and the next thing I knew, I’d be writing to Cosmopolitan magazine about that embarrassing time my boyfriend’s mother walked in on us. No thank you, I had enough embarrassment to last a lifetime, I didn’t need to willingly invite it in.

“That’s your choice. I know you’re playing that willpower card.” Erik got up and sauntered over to me. His eyes darkened as he swept my hair to the side, exposing my neck. His lips dusted my skin, and I dug my nails into my arms to try and keep my composure. His kisses became more aggressive as he nibbled at the sweet spot below my ear that made my knees weak. Then his breath tickled my skin, causing me to break out in goose bumps as he whispered. “My choice is to play dirty.”

Oh Erik! What are you doing? I tipped my head toward his and that was it. His lips were on mine, his tongue expertly parting my lips as his hands slid into the back pockets of my jeans. He squeezed my ass, and I moaned softly, hating that he was having this effect on me, but praying he wouldn’t stop whatever this was. He tilted his head to deepen our kiss, and I surrendered. So much for behaving. My hands were lost in his hair as I submerged myself in Erik. I was drowning.

A knock at the top of the stairs caused me to jump back, but Erik kept his hands locked on my ass, his eyes glazed over with desire. His hair was a complete mess, and I don’t think he ever looked sexier. How inconvenient.

“Snacks are ready. You guys hungry?” Mrs. Draxton called down from the top of the stairs.

I leaned back, trying to untangle myself out of my spider’s web. He only held on tighter. “Starving,” he called up the stairs, gaze still set upon mine, and I knew he wasn’t referring to food.

The door closed, and I heard his mother’s footsteps travel over our heads. “Erik!” I smacked his chest. “See? That is why we can’t fool around.”

“She didn’t come down, she respects my privacy.”

“This is too stressful, please let me go.”

He gave my cheeks one last squeeze, his touch was warm and felt too good, then lifted his hands out of my pockets and in the air to show he was no longer in physical contact with any part of me. “As you wish.”