Good Night Sweetheart

Wanted

As we drive back to his house, my heart feels like it’s pounding so loud I can hear it. My phone started buzzing with messages from Megan almost as soon as it was reactivated. Megan keeps sending me messages faster than I can reply to them.

Megan:

Are you really going out there with him?

Libby, are you sure you’ll be safe?

Is that really what you want?

Did he tell you that you can reject him?

You know what he is, right?

Libby:

Megan, will you please stop? I manage to interrupt her stream of incoming messages.

Yes, I know, and I feel safe. I promise I will call you later, okay? I send her.

Okay, just be careful. She replies, ending her rapid-fire texting.

Putting down the phone just in time to see we are heading down the driveway, and it feels right; I can’t explain why. I also don’t want to think too hard about it. He gives me a shy smile when he parks the car just before getting out. When I try to help him with my bag, he looks at me funny.

“I got it.” He smiles, closing the back door and carrying my stuff inside. “I need to go do a few things. Will you be all right here for a little while?”

“Where do you have to go?” I ask as he sets my bags down inside the house, ushering me in and holding the door open for me.

“You’ll see. I promise I’ll be back soon. You can look around or help yourself to anything you would like.” He looks like he’s up to something, and I can’t figure out what it is.

“Okay then.” I feel strange being left here not knowing what he’s up to, but the smile on his face makes it hard to think.

“I need a list.” He says, making me blink a few times and realize I had been staring at him again.

“A list?” I question dumbly.

“Yes, I want to know what you like to eat. I don’t have a lot in the way of food out here.” He chuckles a little nervously, and I feel even more embarrassed. He goes and gets a notepad and a pen handing them to me.

“Write down anything you like.” He states. I take the note pad sitting on the couch, and trying to think. I don’t really know what to write at first. He leaves to go into his room; by the time he returns, I have a few things written down. I feel nervous and like I’m more of a bother than anything at the moment, but he hasn’t stopped smiling at me.

“Do you have a list for me?” He asks as he comes to stand in front of me. The silver chain around his neck, hidden under his gray shirt, gets my attention. I never noticed it before, but it has me feeling curious about it. I don’t recall noticing it before. I don’t know a lot of things about him yet. As I hand him the list, he looks it over, then he looks back at me funny for a moment.

“What?” I ask, confused, and he sits down next to me, catching me off guard.

“You only wrote a couple of things on here. That’s not much to go on.” He hands it back to me and smirks.

“Well, I’m not that picky,” I reply, looking at the list just to avoid looking at him. I add a couple more things, and he chuckles a bit at my discomfort. When I hand it back, he looks a little happier about it.

“Okay, I’ll be back as soon as I can. I don’t have much out here or a tv, but I have plenty of books you can help yourself to.” I can’t help but smile, thinking about all the books in his room, and he gets up. “I’ll be right back, Sweetheart.” Grabbing his keys and winking at me. He’s definitely up to something; I just don’t know what.

Every time he calls me Sweetheart, my heart flutters, and I feel my cheeks heat up, I’ve never been called anything other than Libby. When he leaves, I feel the wave of loneliness like before, but I know he’ll be back, so it isn’t as bad.

I still don’t feel well, but I feel much better than I did earlier this morning. It feels funny to be here alone, though, and I get my phone out and pull the throw blanket off the back of the couch. The room is cool, and I wonder if he notices the cold. My mind fills with questions the longer I scroll through my phone. Soon my eyes feel heavy, and the sleepless nights alone start to make it harder and harder to focus on the screen.

I jump a little when someone adjusts the blanket. Opening my eyes to see him there. I didn’t mean to doze off, and it startles me to be caught off guard even now. Flinching but trying to hide it and hoping he doesn’t notice.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” I say, sitting up.

“Don’t worry about it. You need the rest. Are you feeling better?” He brushes the hair from my face feeling my cheek, making my insides melt, and my moment of anxiety is gone.

“It’s going to get a little busy here for a moment. I hope you don’t mind, but I didn’t have furniture for the spare room.” He looks embarrassed, and I didn’t even know there was another room. I hadn’t looked around. Reading my confusion, he laughs.

“I hope you like what I picked out.” He still looks nervous, but he smiles affectionately. Before I can ask or protest, there is a knock at the door, and he goes to answer it.

“Oh great, take it to the last door at the end of the hall.” He beams at me, and I find myself gaping back at him. I have never had anything new, let alone had anyone except Megan, go to the trouble he has. Megan has tried to buy me things, but I never let her.

“What is all this?” I ask, my mouth falling open, watching mattresses and furniture get moved through the house. Morgan rejoins me on the sofa, looking a bit smug, if I’m being honest.

“I told you the room was empty. Unless you want to share my room. His suggestive look and words have me turning red, and I want to sink into the couch, trying to disappear.

“I was just going to sleep on the couch,” I mutter, still mortified.

“Not on your life, Sweetheart. I would give you my room before I let you do that. Besides, I figured you would feel better with a room of your own. I did promise to be a gentleman.” He winks, and when my cheeks heat up, he laughs. “I bet you’re hungry. I’m lost in the kitchen, but I’m more than willing to learn. Do you want to teach me?”

“Really, you did too much.” I start to get up just for him to grab my wrist. Looking back at him, all the humor has left his face.

“Nothing is ever too much when it comes to you.” his eyes are still gentle and kind, but his tone is firm; he means every word. I feel my heart lift because he means it. I’m not used to people wanting to do things for me. I was always an obligation to them, but he wants to do things for me and seems to want me. How do I even begin to understand the feeling of being wanted?