Chapter 5: Avoiding temptation

Rejena

There is something hard under my head and something else wrapped around my waist. For a moment I wonder if I sleepwalked, but I haven’t done that since I was a child, but then I remember that I was getting up to go for my evening run, but I never made it out my door. I can vaguely remember Dalon coming into my room, but nothing much past that. The thing beneath my head starts to move, and I open my eyes, realizing that I am lying on a body and the thing wrapped around me is an arm. I slowly look up and realize that the body belongs to Dalon, and I am currently lying on his chest, my own body practically wrapped around him like a parasite.

Scared that I might wake him up, I slowly start to unravel myself from him, careful not to touch anything that I shouldn’t. How the hell did I end up in this position? It might be a dream come true to be wrapped up in this man’s arms, but I am far too old for him, and he is Formula 1’s number one bachelor. It would be a very big mistake to even touch this man, something I already clearly did, but to sleep with him? That would cause one hell of a scandal if anyone found out. Besides, I shouldn’t be in this position with someone that won’t even tell me his real name.

It takes a few minutes, but I finally slip out from underneath his arm, and quickly retreat to the bathroom, needing a moment to gather my thoughts before I wake him up and chase him out of here. When I feel like I can face him, after I have brushed my teeth and fixed my hair, I make my wait out of the bathroom and find him wrapped around one of the pillows. He looks like he is at peace, and I hate the idea of waking him up. I look around the room and find my phone on the bedside table. I quickly check the time and find that it is two o’clock in the morning. I look down at what I am wearing and then decide that it might be a bad idea to go for a run in the dark in a place I hardly know. I consider writing, but that would require setting up the typewriter and that might wake him up. Running out of ideas, I decide to unpack my clothes as that would make the least noise.

I work slowly, and softly, hanging up the two dresses I brought with the jacket and jersey I packed for the days when it might get cold. Luckily, it is the end of April and the weather is close to what it is in South Africa at the moment. I don’t have to adjust to sudden temperature changes and that is a silver lining. At the bottom of the bag, I find my camera and quickly pull it out, switching it on and then point the lense to the figure on the bed that is highlighted by the moonlight streaming in through the open curtains that I never considered closing last night. I hesitate for a second and then snap a photo of Dalon. As soon as the photo is taken, I switch my camera back off and place it carefully at the back of the closet. That photo will be my little reminder that I had Dalon Sorrin in my bed, even if we were just sleeping.

With nothing else to do, I take a blanket from the closet, thankful that the owners of the guest house considered the fact that an extra blanket might be needed, and then make my way to the couch. It takes me a while to get comfortable, but after a few minutes, I fall asleep.

I wake up again with the morning sun that just starts to rise and stretch, trying to get ride of all the kinks from sleeping curled up on the couch. I look to the bed to find Dalon still fast asleep. Instead of waking him up, I get my running shoes out of the closet and a pair of socks and then leave the room. I put my shoes on downstairs and then make my way out of the guest house and start to make my way towards the mountain side. The weather is slightly cold this time of the morning with the sun barely peaking over the mountains, but I know I will be warming up in no time.

I have to jog through the town to get to the trails leading up the mountains, and I use that time to look around at everything I missed yesterday. I try to memorize some of the places to see how I can fit it into my new book. Thoughts about my new books leads me to Dalon and suddenly my fingers itches to start writing.

The scent of fresh coffee hits my nose, and I follow my nose all the way to the café I was at yesterday. The doors are still closed, but the heavenly scent of fresh baked goods leads me right to the door. The owner of the store sees me standing outside, smelling the air like a hound on a mission and she opens the door. “Buongiorno, come posso aiutarla?” The lady asks and I assume it is something around the lines of what do you want.

“Io sono Jena, piacere.” I introduced myself, not really sure what else to say as I wasn’t lying when I told Dalon that I barely know any Italian. I use my nickname instead of my full name, not because I am afraid she might call my name as I pass by with Dalon anywhere near, but because I hate the idea of feeling like I am at home, where everyone aside from my best friend calls me by my nickname.

“Ah, Io sona Mila. Di dove sei?” She asks and my mind takes a while to do the translation. I have a feeling she is trying to stick to very simple Italian in hopes that I understand her.

“Io sona di Sudafrica.” I tell her, trying not to sound like a complete idiot, but knowing that it is inevatble.

“Caffè?” She asks, and I hate bothering her this early, but the scent is irrisistable, and I am starving.

“Sì, per favore.” I say gratefully and the waves for me to come inside. She heads to the kitchen and I take a seat at the counter, dying for a taste of whatever she is baking at the back.

“Un cornetto?” She asks, and I want to weep with gratitude when she comes out of the kitchen with two freshly baked criosants and a cup of coffee.

“Grazie.” I say with a smile as she hands me the coffee and breakfast. I inhale the scent as if this might be my last meal and then thank her again before I start eating, moaning when the croissant practically melts in my mouth. “Cielo.” I mumble around another bite, hoping I used the correct word for heavenly. Mila gives a soft laugh and then holds out the sugar and milk. “No zucchero.” I tell her, shaking my head when she pushes it closer, but I gladly accept the milk. I have been cutting sugar out of my daily diet as much as I can and the energy I have had since consuming sugar at every given opportunity has been unbelievable. I realized one day as I was looking at my mother, that I am also getting older as the years passed and if I didn’t take care of my body now, then I would feel it when I reached her age. Since then, I have been cutting a lot of things out of my diet.

Once I have eaten my breakfast and practically downed my coffee, I pull out my wallet, but Mila shakes her head and keeps saying no when I try to tell her that I want to pay for the food. When I try to pay again, she steps away from the till, making it clear she won’t accept my money. Instead of fighting her on it, I walk around the counter and give her a tight hug, grateful for the kindness and making myself a promise I will return it. As I make ready to leave, Mila calls after me and hands me a bottle of water. “The long road.” She says in very broken English and being unable to help myself, I give her another hug and a kiss on the cheek. We wave goodbye, and I am off, more than ready for my hike up the mountain side and more than grateful for the water that I would’ve probably needed at some point but didn’t think about with my mind focused on the man that was asleep on my bed.

I take the earlier trail for my first time, climbing up on the side of the rock structure that the town is built against, taking it slow and steady as I don’t know the terrain well enough to run, or even take a quick walk with how steep the climb is. As I climb up the mountain side, I begin to pray, asking God for guidance, and advice on what to do with the man that has hopefully woken up by now and will be out of my bed by the time I get back to the guest house. The last thing I need is to be tempted by a man four years my junior and also famous for only dating models. I don’t need the heartbreak he will cause, but I also know that I am going to need strength from above if I am to resist that temptation.