Yearning For Her Curves: (A BWWM Interracial Romance) by Nora Stone Page B

was hoping I could pawn him off on you for an hour and go nap somewhere.” 
     
    “Nope.  I will pass.”
     
    “Damn,” she said softly.
     
    “Mmhm, talk to you later,” I said, grinning as I ended the call.
     
    I’d wanted to have lunch because Patrick had asked me to move in with him.  I was hesitant, I’d been in my apartment for years, it was my space and I was comfortable.  I wasn’t sure I wanted to give that up yet.  But, Al being sick was way more important, and Izzy still wasn’t talking to me, so I was on my own.  I sighed and looked around.
     
    My apartment wasn’t the biggest or the most expensive.  It was actually rather small, just the right size for a single person and decorated in my style.  It had me all over it.  Not that I disliked Patrick’s taste or anything, quite the opposite.  There was just something about it being… mine.
     
    But on the other hand, asking him to sell his house and move in with me was silly for several reasons.  First, it was a house that he was buying, while I was still renting.  Second, it was big enough for both of our things, whereas my place barely held all of mine.  I wouldn’t even have space for his clothes in my closet.  Third, if we decided to start a family, we wouldn’t have to uproot because we’d have the extra bedrooms, bathrooms and the yard that I’d want to accompany children.
     
    It made sense for me to move out there.  But it scared the hell out of me to let go of something that was mine.  I wanted someone with a clear head to help me think my way through this, but I was on my own.  I thought back to the conversation that I’d had with Coach and Joey, about compromise.  I thought about what they said about how they worked things out in their marriages, and how they worked to keep everyone happy.  Then I called Patrick.
     
    “Hey,” he said as soon as he picked up the phone.  I grinned, I couldn’t help it.
     
    “Hey, are you busy?” I asked.
     
    “Not really,” he said.  “I’m out at the gym at the practice grounds.  My hand is doing a lot better, so I wanted to catch one of the trainers and see what exercises they thought I’d be safe to do so that I don’t lose strength.” 
     
    “That sounds like a good way to go about it.  I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself again.” 
     
    “Right, me neither.  It wasn’t really fun,” he said.  I giggled.
     
    “Are you with the trainers now?  We can talk later.” 
     
    “Nope, I just left them.  I was about to go into the gym but I stopped when I saw that you were calling.  I can’t talk to you with the guys around, they just give me crap.  Loudly,” he said.  I laughed; he was right.  Half the time, I could barely hear him once they really got going.
     
    “I wanted to talk about moving in together.” 
     
    “Oh.  Hang on, let me go outside.” 
     
    “Okay.”  I waited, listening to the background sounds come and go as he walked through the area and outside, somewhere.  The sound of a door closing was the last thing I heard.
     
    “Okay, I should be safe from interruption out here.  Lay it on me,” he said.  I took a deep breath.
     
    “I wanted you to know that the reason that I didn’t answer right away was not me doubting you or this relationship.  It’s just, I’ve been here in this apartment for years.  It’s mine, it’s me and part of me is scared to give that up.  It kind of feels like I’m losing a piece of me,” I said, laying myself on the line.
     
    “Babe, I don’t want to make you feel like that.” 
     
    “I know.  I just want you to know where I’m coming from, okay?  That’s why I’m telling you.” 
     
    “Alright.  I can understand you feeling that way.” 
     
    “So, I’ve been thinking about it,” I began.  “You know that room next to your bedroom, right off of the den?  The one that you said is probably supposed to be an office, but you don’t really want to close