Page 56
Story: Royally Benevolent
“Your seatbelt is locked. Just unclip it,” I said.
“I will fall on you.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “I will be okay. You can’t stay up there forever.”
I put Grieg on the floor again, beckoning Wyatt, “It’s okay. That has to hurt.”
“I’m okay,” Wyatt assured.
“You’re not. Come down.”
Wyatt unclipped the belt and slid down the incline—resting nearly on top of me. Our faces were only inches apart.
“You are… okay?” Wyatt asked, still panicked.
“I’m fine,” I said. “Are you?”
“I’m perfectly fine. I just… I was shaken and worried about you.”
I reached up to brush his face with my hand. “I’m good, thanks.”
“That’s… good.”
I couldn’t help it. His body pressed to me was so lovely, and the smell of his cologne overcame me. Although this was not the right time or place, I kissed him. It was slow and easy.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” Wyatt whispered.
“Me, too,” I said. “And you, too.”
Wyatt’s door opened, and terrible cold, wind, and rain flooded in. In the dark of the evening, I spotted a security officer with a torch.
“Ma’am, we need to remove you from the vehicle. Are you alright? Do you need to see a doctor?”
“I think I will be sore, but I’m okay.” I looked awkwardly past Wyatt. “Please take my dog first. His leash is in the hatch.”
“I don’t think we’ll be able to open it,” the officer said.
Wyatt scrambled, handing the dog to me and slowly turning to stand on what was now the window. I watched as he released his seat, pulled it forward, and reached in the back to grab our coats and the leash without fail. He turned back after putting the seat back down.
“How did you do that?” I asked.
“Parenting hack,” he answered.
It was strangely hot. He was much cooler under pressure than I anticipated.
“You get your coat on and hand Grieg to the guards,” Wyatt said. “I’ll boost you up—no funny business—and then I will get out.”
“Okay,” I said.
Following his directions to the minute, I pulled on my coat, handed my stunned dog to the guard on the other side of the door and climbed out awkwardly—flashing everyone but mostly Wyatt. It was awkward, but we were okay. That was all I could ask for.
Standing on the side of the road, Grieg shivered.
Wyatt emerged from the car and checked on him. “Little man is cold. Here.”
He picked Grieg up and tucked him into his coat as best he could. “It’s all I can do. Don’t want him to freeze.”
It made my heart swell at the worst time.
“I will fall on you.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “I will be okay. You can’t stay up there forever.”
I put Grieg on the floor again, beckoning Wyatt, “It’s okay. That has to hurt.”
“I’m okay,” Wyatt assured.
“You’re not. Come down.”
Wyatt unclipped the belt and slid down the incline—resting nearly on top of me. Our faces were only inches apart.
“You are… okay?” Wyatt asked, still panicked.
“I’m fine,” I said. “Are you?”
“I’m perfectly fine. I just… I was shaken and worried about you.”
I reached up to brush his face with my hand. “I’m good, thanks.”
“That’s… good.”
I couldn’t help it. His body pressed to me was so lovely, and the smell of his cologne overcame me. Although this was not the right time or place, I kissed him. It was slow and easy.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” Wyatt whispered.
“Me, too,” I said. “And you, too.”
Wyatt’s door opened, and terrible cold, wind, and rain flooded in. In the dark of the evening, I spotted a security officer with a torch.
“Ma’am, we need to remove you from the vehicle. Are you alright? Do you need to see a doctor?”
“I think I will be sore, but I’m okay.” I looked awkwardly past Wyatt. “Please take my dog first. His leash is in the hatch.”
“I don’t think we’ll be able to open it,” the officer said.
Wyatt scrambled, handing the dog to me and slowly turning to stand on what was now the window. I watched as he released his seat, pulled it forward, and reached in the back to grab our coats and the leash without fail. He turned back after putting the seat back down.
“How did you do that?” I asked.
“Parenting hack,” he answered.
It was strangely hot. He was much cooler under pressure than I anticipated.
“You get your coat on and hand Grieg to the guards,” Wyatt said. “I’ll boost you up—no funny business—and then I will get out.”
“Okay,” I said.
Following his directions to the minute, I pulled on my coat, handed my stunned dog to the guard on the other side of the door and climbed out awkwardly—flashing everyone but mostly Wyatt. It was awkward, but we were okay. That was all I could ask for.
Standing on the side of the road, Grieg shivered.
Wyatt emerged from the car and checked on him. “Little man is cold. Here.”
He picked Grieg up and tucked him into his coat as best he could. “It’s all I can do. Don’t want him to freeze.”
It made my heart swell at the worst time.
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