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    Andr0gene
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Colorado Game - 14. Chapter 14

CHAPTER *14*

Ross was waiting just outside and as I closed the door behind me, and he took me by the elbow, guiding me down the hall. Dragging was more like it, actually. He tried two, three rooms in this corridor before he found one not occupied and pulled me inside, closing the door behind him and leaning against it. I walked to the middle of the room, one of the storage rooms for instruments, rubbing the elbow and making a face.

"What the hell was that all..." he started and then sighed, shaking his head. "This is not how I wanted it to go."

"What; playing the "I pay, so you play" speech or manhandling me down the corridor?" I snapped back, shaking my arm. Damn that elbow hurt. He held up his hands and his voice turned soothing.

"I'm sorry. I just... wanted to see you and talk to you and apologize. I didn‘t expect a warm fuzzy welcome but I think I deserve a little better than ‘you'll just have to wait'."

"What you deserve is absolutely nothing. I deserve an explanation. Jesus Ross, you left without a word. How did you think that would make me feel?"

"I can explain..."

"Cheap!" I cut him off. "And vulgar and stupid; basically a whore, but then without the pay. You got what you wanted and then left. God, if you wanted a one-night stand, you didn't have to take me through that rollercoaster courtship crap. For once I wish I had just gotten screwed and..."

"You shut that verbal diarrhea right now and just listen, alright?" he interrupted, "God, jump to conclusions why don't you?" He sent me a warning look when I opened my mouth to speak. "I resent that ‘whore' comment you just made." I wanted to say something again but he held up a finger and his voice sounded like a whip. "Shut it." Then he sighed and spread his arms, speaking with a reasoning tone. "You're angry with me, and part of it is justified, yes, but that was uncalled for and just rude. Can you at least listen to me? Then you may tear my head off, if you still want to." I crossed my arms, fuming inside. "Mark?"

"You told me to be silent, so I'm silent," I said, my teeth clenched together. He wasn't scoring any points right now.

"I know you're upset," he began, stating the obvious. He bit his lower lip guiltily.

"How perceptive. Someone give this man an award," I said sarcastically, balling my hands into fists and unable to keep my mouth shut. He came closer but halted when I shot him an angered look.

"Mark, give me a chance here, okay? I might have gone about it all wrong but the reason I left is because I received a call from the Caribbean. My father was on a cruise there and he had collapsed in his cabin." He sought my eyes but I avoided the contact. "They told me it was a close call and that he would be taken to a hospital on the Cayman Islands. I made arrangements to go there, then I went back upstairs, and I admit I was a bit too pre-occupied to think clearly; all I wanted was to get there as fast as I could. I didn't wake you, and I realize that I should have." He slowly walked over and stopped in front of me. "I'm really sorry." I felt pretty silly by now but couldn't entirely let it go.

"And you couldn't find a phone?" I asked, softly. "Two minutes, that's all it would've taken. Two minutes, Ross." He slipped a finger underneath my chin and forced me to look up.

"Mark... it was hectic. By the time I got there, had everything sorted out for transportation back to England, where my father lives, and had a moment to myself, you guys were on your way back to Denver."

"You could've called me from the plane. And you could have called me at home."

"Yes, I could have. I should have. But I figured that I would talk to you after I came back to the US. So here I am; I landed an hour ago."
Only then did I see that he looked tired and that the suit he wore was wrinkled, probably because of the long flight over here. The top buttons of his shirt were undone and his tie loosened.

"You came straight here, to talk to me?" I asked, feeling pretty dumb all of a sudden. He come here. For me.

He smiled and put a hand on my arm, careful as if he expected me to shrug it off. When I didn't he pulled me closer, lowering his head until our noses were an inch apart.

"Well, first I went to the office, because I thought you'd be there, but then I came straight here, yes."

"Cute," I said, "you're being cute."

"Does it work?" he grinned. I nodded involuntary, not able to stay mad.

"Yeah, it does. I'm sorry, I freaked out."

"No, you made a mountain out of a molehill, without knowing the facts. I probably would have done the same, though. I really am sorry. It won't happen again."

He smiled apologetically and closed the distance between us, wrapping his arms tightly around me. I lifted mine up and let them slip around his neck, tilting my head underneath the pressure of his lips. When he came up for air, he softly smiled.

"So... are we okay now?" I nodded. He kissed me again and I smirked when he lifted his head and stifled a yawn.

"Oh, thanks, that's a real compliment. Now I'm putting you to sleep?" He shot me a tired smile. "Go home, sleep. You look like you need it." He shook his head slowly.

"No, I want to see you; tonight," he said, tightening his arms around me when I tried to step away. "Nuhuh... I'm not leaving before you say ‘yes'."

"Maybe you should just go home, sleep and just call me when you wake up. How's that sound?" He gave me a disappointed look.

"You don't want to see me tonight?"

"I didn't say that," I answered, "of course I would; you have some serious making up to do." But then I remembered something and made a face. "Bah, I forgot that my mom's coming over. She's gonna help me do laundry... don't ask. So...." Ross frowned.

"So... and what, I can't see you?"

"Well... Ross, come on. She's my mom..."

"And," he said slowly, "you don't want me to meet her?" His grey eyes sent me an inscrutable look.

"This is going so fast... we know each other a week. Don't you think that's a bit soon; to meet the parents already?" I asked. He shrugged.

"It doesn't really matter, now does it? Whether I meet her tonight, a month or a year from now..." He grinned when I raised an eyebrow at hearing ‘year'.

"Trust me," I said, "you really don't wanna meet her this soon. She's...a handful."

"As opposed to you being nice and docile? Now I definitely want to meet her. Besides, she's not staying the night, is she?"

"No and neither are you," I said, flippantly. He growled deep in his throat.

"I thought we were past that already." He emphasized his point by letting a hand of his slide down to my butt and pressing us closer.

"Well, we're not. We slept together but that doesn't mean I'm going to clear out any closets yet. You promised me that we'd take it slow..."

"But..." he began.

"Take it or leave it."

"Take it, take it," he said quickly. It sounded comical. "But I protest. You can't give it to me one day and not the next." I could feel a blush creeping onto my cheeks and he snickered. "So... I'll see you, and your mom, tonight?" I took a deep breath.

"Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you, after."

"I'll take my chances. If she's anything like you, how bad can it get?" I grinned at him; god, if only he knew. If he thought I was a handful, he was in for a big surprise when he'd meet my mom. Ross finally stepped away, going for the door, and I called out to him.

"Ross, don't you need an address?" He hit his forehead with his hand and looked around for something. When he apparently didn't find it, he reached inside his jacket and took out a pen. Then he lifted up my arm, rolled up my sleeve and scribbled a number on it.

"That's my cell. Message me the address." I snickered and he raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"I don't have a cell phone," I explained. He rolled his eyes and wrote down another number. He had to do it twice when he made a mistake and my arm was starting to look like a small bible.

"That's my home phone-number. When you call, the housekeeper will probably answer; give her the address. And get a cell phone, pronto."

"Check." I was the recipient of another kiss, and this one was definitely not of the chaste variety. Then he quickly exited and when I looked at my watch, I cursed. Damn... I had only three hours left!

Minor corrections.
andr0gene 2004-Present; All Rights Reserved
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Nope no way huh uh… God Mark is just to into this guy for his own good.  There is no way on this great green earth that Ross’s explanation would warrant such a quick forgiveness.  My dad passed away in 2001 it started to happen at home at the time his visiting nurse was there talk about frantic times but I was still level headed enough to contact family and let them know what was going on.  
 

As I said a simple not taken 2 minutes if even that would have solved the issue.  I think Mark gave in way to easy. Ross is an ass.

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