Probably because of a wrong sleeping position."What's wrong?" He asked. "It's nothing. A little case of stiff neck. Nothing to worry about," I said."I can give you a massage," he offered. I saw "desire" in his eyes. He probably saw it in mine, too.I stood up and brushed the thought aside. "I'm fine, thanks. This is nothing." I stood up and went to the living room. Sat on the sofa and picked up a box, opened it, just to diffuse the "heat" between us. The box had some of my old books and pictures. The next thing I knew, we were both looking at old pictures and sharing stories about my c***dhood.We were seated next to each other as we talked and laughed. His arm was around me and we were so relaxed and comfy on the couch. I caught a whiff on his aftershave and it made my knees buckle."You smell good. Aftershave?" I asked. Tried hard not put my hand on his crotch. I could tell something's up. And I like it."Yeah." He said nervously. His arm felt so good around my shoulders. But I pulled. ‘Can you forgive me?’ ‘It’s the past,’ I shrugged, not sure what else to say. I knew her regret was real. I could feel that, but there was something more to it. I just couldn’t figure out what. Grandmother’s gift of empathy was not nearly as strong as it was when I first received it. ‘Let me make it up to you?’ she asked, looking at me in a way that let me know what she wanted. I wasn’t sure I was really in mood for what she was offering, but I could tell it was important to her and I cared for her enough to go with it for that reason alone. To be fair, it wasn’t difficult. She was beautiful, sexy as hell and the goddess of youth. I smiled, shook my head, but then nodded in acceptance. Hebe grinned knowingly and led me back toward the house. She couldn’t read my mind anymore, but there were some forms of communication between a man and a woman that took no words. We entered the house and she stopped and looked at me once more. Her expression was serious. Whatever she was about to.
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