than you. I’ve always made out with guys while sitting up and the moment they try to force me down I kick them out.’
‘I’m serious. You don’t have to explain.’
‘Shut up. I’m trying to say something.’ I press my lips together to hold my tongue and she continues. ‘I just want to lie next to you. It’s such a normal nothing sort of thing, but it’s huge for me and I just want to do that. But . . . I need you to just lay still and talk to me. Even with the lights on, I think I still need to just hear your voice. Can you do that or is that too weird?’
‘It’s just weird enough to make me fall a little more in love with you.’ I grab her hand to stop her as she heads for the other side of the bed. ‘Thank you for trusting me.’
She nods as she lets go of my hand. I wait for her to reach the other side and lie down before I do. Once we’re both settled onto the bed, I decide it’s time to start talking.
‘Can I tell you about Jordan?’
‘I would love for you to tell me about Jordan.’
I smile at the ceiling as the first memory comes to me. ‘We grew up together like brothers. My mom and his mom had us three months apart – he was three months younger. When I was six, I had this pair of overalls that were my favorite. My mom hated them. They must have been a present from someone because she was always dressing me in polo shirts. I remember this one time, I put on my overalls and Jordan and I went out to the pond on the north side of the property and I waded into the pond, hoping to catch some fish in my overalls and take them home to keep as pets.
‘I ended up going out a bit too far and breathing in some of the scummy pond water. Jordan pulled me out and laughed at me as I cried and basically hacked up a lung. I ended up getting pneumonia from the bacteria in the water and Jordan asked his mom, my Aunt Deb, to buy me a get-well fish. I had my pet goldfish Guppy for three years before he went belly-up.’
I know she wants me to be still, but she’s being so quiet that I have to turn my head to look at her. She’s staring at the ceiling with tears streaming down her temples.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Just keep talking.’
I draw in a deep breath and focus on the ceiling again. ‘One of my favorite memories of Jordan is the time we ditched class our freshman year and went to hang out at Harvard. We joked that we were going to find us some Harvard girls to be our sugar-mommas. Once we got there and realized how scrawny we were compared to all the guys there, we decided to just sneak into the music hall and sit in the back and smoke a joint.’ I smile as I think of that day and how such a simple decision changed my life. ‘As soon as we walked in there and found a place to sit in the back, both of us forgot about smoking. We were mesmerized by the music. So mesmerized, we didn’t see the music teacher, Professor Whitman, sneak up on us from behind. Whitman threatened to call our parents until I told him I was only there because I was trying to scope out the program.’
I don’t know what I said, but Mikki chooses this moment to reach across and grab my hand. I give her hand a reassuring squeeze and continue.
‘He told me the only way he’d believe me is if I played something on the piano. He got on stage, stopped the concerto, and announced to the entire music hall why I was there and what I was going to do. There were dozens of people in the seats and on all sides of me, holding their instruments and waiting for me to fuck up so they could go on with their session.’ I pause as I remember how nervous I was, shaking from head to toe as I slid onto that piano bench. ‘I took a seat at the piano and began playing ‘In A Sentimental Mood’ by Art Tatum. When I finished, the entire hall was completely silent, until Jordan pumped his fist in the air and shouted, “That’s my boy!”’
‘What happened with the professor?’
‘He asked me to audition for a scholarship, but I told him I didn’t need one. I told him who my dad was and he understood. But he kept in touch with me over the years and I’ve been in about eight of his classes. Whitman’s one of the few people I can talk to about music who not only knows what the fuck I’m talking about, but who totally understands how it makes me feel.’
She laces her fingers through mine, then seems to second-guess this and lets go of my hand. I try not to feel disappointed, but it’s hard when I’ve become so accustomed to the feeling of her delicate hand in mine. Just as I open my mouth to continue talking, the bed bounces a little and she scoots in next to me to rest her head on my shoulder. I wrap my arm around her shoulders and resist the urge to kiss the top of her head, even though her hair smells so good. It’s one of my favorite things about her. I don’t know what kind of stuff she uses for her sensitive skin, but I’m going to have to make sure she’s stocked up.
‘Keep talking.’ She mutters her command into my shirt.
I tell her a few more stories about Jordan. By the time I’m done telling her the one about the time Jordan and I stole one of my dad’s cars to go to Dairy Queen, I’m pretty certain she’s asleep. I kiss the top of her head, breathing in her clean scent, and her fingers curl around the fabric of my shirt.
‘Do you want me to go back to my room?’ I whisper.
She’s silent for a moment, then she uncurls her fist from my shirt. I can feel her heart pounding against my chest. I want to get up and leave so she doesn’t feel like she has to put herself through this.
She sits up suddenly and her nose and eyes are rimmed pink, but her face is dry. She must have stopped crying a while ago.
‘No, I don’t want you to go.’ Her hands are clasped in her lap and she stares down at them for a moment before she continues. ‘Can you sit up and face that way?’
She points at the wall on my left. I sit up immediately and swing my legs over the side of the bed so I’m facing away from her toward the wall.
‘Can you . . . can you take off your shirt?’
She whispers this and I can hear the shame she feels for asking me to do something so simple, as if I haven’t already seen her without a shirt three times in her life. I pull my shirt off slowly and toss it onto the carpet.
‘Just please stay still.’
The mattress shifts as I imagine she’s crawling toward me. I can feel the heat of her body behind me, though she hasn’t touched me. Then I feel her fingers on my right bicep, light as a soft breeze. She traces her fingers over the curves of my arms and I glance to the right to see what it looks like. She’s tracing the lines of muscles, as if she’s trying to become acquainted with them, so she doesn’t have to fear them.
Removing her fingers, she sits back for a moment before she lays both her hands on my back. I try to regulate my breathing so she doesn’t see how much she’s turning me on. I expect her to begin tracing the muscles in my back, but instead I feel something else against the back of my neck. Once I feel her breath, I realize it’s her forehead.
‘Are you okay?’
She nods and her forehead rubs against my nape, sending a chill through me. From the way her breath hits my back, I can see she’s trying to calm herself, too, though probably for much different reasons. Finally, she lifts her head off my neck and her hands begin to explore my back. She traces the fingertips of her right hand lightly down my spine and I begin to relax again. After a few minutes, she wraps her arms around my waist and lays her cheek against my back. We sit like this for a few minutes while I think of how lucky I am to be the one person she trusts this way and how I can’t ever do anything to fuck that up.
She lets go of me and I smile when she lays a tender kiss on the back of my shoulder. There’s more movement on the bed and I imagine this is as far as it will go tonight. Then I feel a whoosh of air as her shirt flies past me, landing on the carpet next to mine, followed closely by her bra.
‘Turn around, please.’
His skin is so smooth and warm against my cheek. The soft thump of his heartbeat is comforting. Just sitting here, holding him like this, reminds me of summers swimming in Uncle Cort’s pool when I was a kid. Grabbing onto the blow-up dolphin
as I wrapped my arms around it, I’d close my eyes as I laid my cheek against the warm vinyl and float; no fear of sinking, just letting the water carry me.
It’s not just people who change. The world changes when we change. You can’t deny it or prevent it. The minute you glimpse a future that isn’t entirely filled with loneliness and despair, the world becomes a different place. Maybe the world isn’t black. Maybe it’s more like a murky gray with flashes of color here and there. Blink and you’ll miss them.
I breathe in the scent of his skin one last time before I release him. Scooting back on the bed, I sit on my feet and marvel for a moment at the definition of the muscles in his back and arms. It may sound stupid, but it fills me with pride. Like he was built this strong to protect me.
My heart pounds painfully against my ribcage as I reach for the hem of my shirt. I close my eyes as I slowly pull it over my head and toss it onto the floor next to Crush’s shirt. With his back to me, I can’t see his reaction, so I seize this small moment of courage and quickly tear off my bra.
It’s not like he’s never seen me naked, but it was never my choice for him to see me like that. My hands are shaking again and I can feel the tears stinging the corners of my eyes. I ball my fists at my sides and take a few deep breaths to get a hold of myself.
‘Turn around, please.’
I whisper this request so softly, I’m not sure he heard me, until he slowly begins to turn around. I force myself to hold my hands at my sides instead of using them to cover myself up, the way I desperately want to.
‘What do you want me to do?’ His voice is soft and some of the tension in my stomach eases. ‘Just say the word.’
I open my eyes and he’s looking at my face, his gaze so reassuring. I lift my hands and reach for him and he gently takes me in his arms. The moment my chest touches his, I feel as if I’ve been electrocuted. A surge of physical pain lights up every nerve in my body, but it only lasts a split second. It’s the fear. I hold on tighter, burrowing my face into the crook of his neck and he slowly tightens his hold on me.
‘Is this okay?’ he murmurs.
‘Yes.’
‘I love you.’
‘I know.’
‘With all my circuits.’
I laugh and a sudden urge to tackle him overcomes me. Instead, I pull away from him slightly so I can take his face in my hands and press my lips to his. The curve of his smile against my lips fills my insides with a rush of warmth. I kiss him slowly, my body shivering as his hands slide down to each side of my waist. That intense longing begins to grow inside me again and the sound of my whimper startles me. I pull my head back and he looks confused.
‘Are you okay?’
I nod, letting my gaze fall as my hands do. I try to look away from his sculpted chest, but I can’t. It’s so beautiful.
‘Can we go to sleep now?’
‘Of course.’ He rises from the bed and reaches for our shirts on the floor.
‘Leave the shirt,’ I blurt out hastily. ‘Just . . . just turn the light off.’
He smiles as he lets the shirts drop onto the carpet then reaches for the switch on the lamp on the bedside table.
‘You still have your shoes on,’ I remark and he shrugs. ‘You can take those off.’
‘Thank you.’
As soon as the lights go out, I pull down the comforter and sheets to slip underneath. I fold the covers back for him to lie down, then I hold my breath. I can’t see where he is, but I can feel the bed moving.
‘Turn the light back on.’
My voice is something between a strangled whisper and a soft shriek. The light comes on instantly and he’s standing next to the bed, his eyebrows furrowed with worry.
‘Maybe I should just go back to my bedroom.’
‘Please don’t.’ I turn onto my side to face him, willing myself not to pull up the covers to hide my chest. ‘But do you mind leaving the light on, just until I fall asleep?’
‘Of course I don’t mind.’
I pat the mattress for him to lie down and he smiles cautiously before he lies next to me. We stare into each other’s eyes for a moment before I take a deep breath and snuggle up next to him. The soft flesh of my breast is pressed against his solid muscle, and it just fits. He kisses my forehead again and I press my lips to the place where his neck meets his jaw.
‘Can I say something?’
‘Yes,’ I reply.
‘I love the feeling of your body against mine.’
‘So do I.’
‘Can I say something else?’
I chuckle. ‘You don’t need permission to speak.’
‘Well, then, let me just say that you are the most beautiful person I’ve ever laid eyes on. And I’m not saying this to gain favors. I just want you to know that what I saw tonight, and what I felt in your touch . . . was unforgettable.’
I try to wipe the tears before they fall from my face onto his skin, but they come too fast. ‘I’m not as beautiful inside.’
‘Don’t say that.’ He kisses my forehead then tilts my chin up so he can look at me through the darkness. ‘Please don’t say that.’
I push his hand away so I can bury my face in his neck again. ‘I need to tell you something.’
‘You can tell me anything.’
The tears come faster now and I can’t even open my mouth. The words are caught in my throat, razor-like realities.
‘I can’t have kids.’ I try not to remember the pain, but it’s right there. It’s everywhere, the way it was that night, and I can hardly breathe from the weight of it. ‘I was so scared and so confused. I didn’t know what they were doing. All I knew is that it hurt so much, and when it was all over, I was covered in blood with nothing worth anything left inside of me.’ I sniff loudly, lips trembling as I try to catch my breath. ‘They took so many things from me. So many things. And the worst part is that they knew what they were doing. One of them laughed and said something about . . . about sterilizing me.’
Crush hasn’t said anything or moved in the last minute and it’s worrying me. He probably wants nothing to do with me now. I lay my palm against the middle of his chest to push off and he places his hand on top of mine.
‘Where are you going?’
‘You probably don’t want to sleep with me anymore.’
‘Are you fucking kidding me?’
His voice sounds different. I reach up to touch his face and feel the moisture flowing from the corner of his right eye.
‘You are not damaged.’ His words are blazing with fierce urgency. ‘What they took from you isn’t anything that should matter to anyone who truly loves you. So don’t ever fucking think that you’re broken or incomplete or anything less than beautiful, inside and out. Do you understand me?’
‘Yes.’
I climb on top of him so I can drape my body over his, then I shove my hands under his back to squeeze him. He wraps his arms around my neck as I lay my head on his shoulder. After a few minutes, my body relaxes and I begin to feel drowsy, as if this position is the equivalent of a sleeping pill.
He gently nuzzles his scratchy jaw on the top of my head and I groan groggily. ‘Inside and out. Don’t you ever forget it.’
‘I love you,’ I mumble.
‘Goodnight, beautiful.’
The first indication that my world has been turned upside down is when I wake up sleeping on my belly. I never sleep on my belly. Then I follow the length of my arm to where it’s draped loosely over Mikki’s back as she sleeps belly-side down with her face pointed at me. I was hoping to see her mouth hanging open and drool pooling on the pillow, but her mouth is closed and I can barely feel the rise and fall of her breathing under my arm. I want to pull her close so she can wrap those gorgeous arms and legs around me. But she looks so peaceful. I don’t want to disturb her.
I lie still, watching her sleep, for at least an hour as I think of things for us to do today and tomorrow before we head to L.A. For someone who’s hardly left the house in mon
ths, I could probably take Mikki anywhere and she’d be at least somewhat fascinated. But I think I’d rather take her somewhere she’ll feel comfortable.
When her eyelids finally flutter open, I reach up to brush her hair out of her face. She blinks against the very dim light in the room. I don’t think she’s opened the drapes in her bedroom once during our stay in this hotel.
‘What time is it?’ Her voice is a bit thick with sleep. She begins to turn onto her side when she realizes she’s still topless. She turns back onto her stomach and I pull my hand back.
‘It’s just after eight. We have to check out of here and into the new room at noon. Plenty of time for you to shower and pack your things.’
‘I hate packing.’
She sounds like a petulant child and I have a sudden urge to tickle her to erase the sour look on her face. Tickling is such an innocent, playful act of affection shared between two people. We don’t understand how much those small moments of closeness mean to us until they’re taken away.
Her gaze is locked on my bare chest. I reach up, laying my hand on the side of her face as I brush my thumb over her cheekbone. She grabs my hand and slowly turns onto her back so she can hug my arm against her chest. Her heartbeat is racing, thumping wildly under my hand.
We stare into each other’s eyes for a moment before she brings my hand to her mouth and kisses my palm. ‘Kiss me.’
I prop myself up on my elbow then cradle her face with the hand she just kissed, trying to find a position that I don’t have to lie on top of her. She must see my trepidation as I slowly lean into her. She coils her arms around my neck and pulls me close so my chest is touching hers again.
‘Kiss me or I’ll make you pack my suitcase,’ she says with a soft smile. I plant a quick kiss on the corner of her mouth and she shakes her head. ‘Kiss me like this is a movie and we’re madly in love and we’re seeing each other for the first time in three years, eight months, and twenty-one days.’
I let out a short burst of laughter, then I quickly compose myself and go for it. With every passing moment, every taste of her mouth, every whisper of her fingertips over my skin, the friction between us gets hotter. I can feel myself growing inside my jeans and I’m afraid she’ll feel it against her hip.
‘Why are you scooting back?’ She sounds hurt and the look in her eyes confirms the rejection in her voice.
‘I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.’
She gazes into my eyes as she considers this. ‘Can you lie on top of me? I just want to try it out.’
‘Are you sure? You don’t have to do this.’
‘I know.’
I nod as I gently place one of my legs between hers, watching her face for any negative reaction. She seems to be watching my legs as I move. My hands are on either side of her head now, my face hovering over hers, and I’ve got one knee pressed against the mattress between her legs so I don’t have any weight on her yet.
She reaches for my chest with both hands and she runs her hands over my pecs. I close my eyes when her hands skate over my abs, drawing in deep breaths so I don’t scare her with my excitement. She grabs the back of my neck and pulls me down on top of her so she can wrap her arms around my shoulders. Then I kiss her like I haven’t seen her or anyone in decades.
A few minutes pass before she begins to shift beneath me, as if she’s trying to get away. I instantly pull my head back and she nods.
‘I’m going to take a shower. Can you wait in here?’
‘Absolutely.’ I kiss her forehead then roll off of her, extremely relieved that she knew when to stop and that she still wants me around. ‘I’ll put your phone charging while you’re in the shower.’
‘Thanks.’
After her shower, she asks me to brush her hair again, but there doesn’t seem to be many tangles. Once I’m done, I head back to my room to take a shower and pack. When I come out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel around my waist, I find Mikki sitting on the edge of my bed in her pajamas.
‘Hey! I didn’t expect to see you in here.’ I don’t know if I should head back into the bathroom or reach for one of those tiny bathrobes again.
She smiles. ‘I’m fine. I’ve seen plenty of naked guys on TV. And you look way better than them.’
‘Really?’
‘Yeah, but don’t let it go to your head.’ She covers her mouth and laughs as she realizes the double entendre.
‘I promise I won’t. So what’s up? Are you here to watch me get dressed? And why are you in your pajamas?’
‘I don’t want to go down to the lobby with you to get the key to the new room. Can I just stay here and you’ll come get me when you have it?’
‘Sure. But why don’t you want to go down there?’
‘I’m just so embarrassed that my mom probably told that girl at the front desk that I was planning to commit suicide. She tells everyone my business all the time. She thinks it makes her seem like she’s proud of me despite my defects, but I don’t give a fuck if she’s proud of having a mentally ill daughter. I don’t