Little Squirrels Can Climb Tall Trees, Michael Murphy [best books to read for self development .txt] 📗

I go home?” he asked, a bit uncertain, not to mention still partly asleep and a little fuzzy.

“Don’t even think about it,” I jokingly warned. I gave the man a spare toothbrush and then got him tucked into bed. He was asleep again just a moment after his head hit the pillow. I was not so sleepy as Kyle, so I took a moment to admire the sleeping giant next to me. The man was an utter mystery in so many ways. On the one hand, he was playful and fun, but on the other, he was nervous and terribly uptight. And to go so long without sex! That was positively cruel and unusual punishment.

Sleep finally captured me as well. My dreams that night were good.

Chapter 9

THE next morning I was awake at my usual 6:00 a.m. My guest did not stir when I crawled out of bed, so I let the man sleep. As quietly as possible, I showered and went into the kitchen, closing the bedroom door so that the movements would not disturb Kyle.

I didn’t know how long someone would sleep after working four twelve-hour shifts in four days, but I assumed that it would be longer than usual. The question was how much longer. After puttering in the kitchen for a few minutes while making coffee, I sat at the dining room table to read the newspaper—a rare and delightful treat. Most days I was able to catch a glance at the paper at the office between appointments or while wolfing down a sandwich at lunchtime, never really getting the chance to read things in depth like I really wanted.

Even after reading all of the opinion pieces and the various columns, an hour later I was finished. With still no sign of Kyle rousing from his slumber, I hauled out my laptop and took care of some work e-mail. Even though it wasn’t due until next week, I spent some time working on a report, making significant progress. I was pleased that I had taken the day off to spend some time with Kyle—it would just be nice, though, if the man was actually conscious for some of the time.

At about ten thirty, four and a half hours after I had gotten out of bed, a very sleepy Kyle stumbled out of the bedroom.

“Well, look who’s finally out of bed!”

“Huh,” the sleepy man said.

“You awake yet?”

“Not really. Where am I?”

“My apartment.”

“How’d I get here?”

“You came here after work.”

“Oh, right. And who are you?”

“Bite me, bitch.”

“Sorry. Not awake yet.”

“I can tell. You want some coffee?”

“Do you have any tea?”

“I’m gay. Of course I have tea.”

“You’re gay?” he sleepily joked.

“You couldn’t tell when I was sucking your dick?”

“That was you?” he asked with a smile.

“Hey! Watch it!”

I heated some water in the microwave and returned to the dining room with an assortment of teabags for my guest to consider.

“Ohhhh, English Breakfast! My favorite.”

“Mine too.”

While the tea steeped, I asked, “Would you like some breakfast? Do you usually eat breakfast? Some people don’t, which I think is crazy. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”

“Yes, I like breakfast.”

“Do you have favorites?”

“Umm, I like scrambled eggs, I like french toast, I like pancakes….”

“Okay, that gives me something to work with. Here’s the morning newspaper to read while you drink your tea.”

“Thank you! That’s so sweet.”

“Sweet?”

“Yes! Sweet.”

“It’s tea and a newspaper,” I complained.

“Work with me, will you!”

“Okay,” I said as I stepped into the kitchen to prepare breakfast for my guest. Every time I glanced in to check on my guest, he seemed totally absorbed in the newspaper. I could only guess that the morning newspaper was one of his favorite treats but was one that he didn’t get to enjoy every day. I startled the man when I reappeared and placed a plate in front of him.

“How’d you do that so quickly?”

“Quick? It took me half an hour. I see you missed me terribly.”

“No. Yes! No. Sorry, yes! I just got wrapped up in an article.”

“Nice to know I’m so easily forgotten. And here I was slaving away in the kitchen preparing breakfast for you. Working my fingers to the bone.”

Kyle was awake now and was perfectly capable of responding to my teasing. From his spot at the table, he simply turned his head and batted his beautiful eyelashes.

“All right, all is forgiven.”

“That was easy,” Kyle said.

“Hey, what can I say, I’m a sucker for your beautiful eyes, your smile, and those damned eyelashes,” I admitted.

“I told you I had extraordinary abilities!”

“Eat your damned breakfast!” I complained as I sat down at the table beside Kyle.

For the first time, Kyle looked at what I had placed in front of him. “You have more guests coming over for breakfast?” he asked as he surveyed the amount of food I had produced.

“Nope, just you.”

“This is all for me?”

“Yes.”

“You must have thought I was starving.”

“Hush up and eat before it gets cold.”

Kyle poured some maple syrup on top of the beautiful cinnamon swirl french toast. When he took a bite, he moaned with pleasure. “Oh my God! That is incredible. Did you make this?” he asked in disbelief.

“Yes. I had some cinnamon bread left over from a few days ago, and that makes the best french toast.”

“I love the maple syrup. That is so good!”

“Comes from my family upstate.”

“Where do they get it? This is great!”

“They make it.”

“Your family makes maple syrup? This maple syrup?”

“Yes,” I answered hesitantly, not entirely sure where Kyle was going with his line of questioning.

“You’ve got to understand, I love maple syrup but can’t stand most of what people try to pass off as maple syrup. I don’t know how anyone can advertise maple syrup when the closest it ever came to a sugar maple tree is having a label printed that was made from some scrap wood chips. Most of the crap you get is corn syrup with artificial flavoring that isn’t even very close.”

“I’m sensing that you have a strong opinion