“You don’t have to do this,” he reminded me.
I couldn’t tear my gaze away from his groin. In my mind, memories flashed of the last time something like this happened. My breathing quickened, and I could feel my desire slipping away as I recalled the musky odor, the terror, and the pain.
“Matt, stop,” Charlie said, keeping a gentle grip on my wrist. “There’s no one here but us. Just you and me, like it should be. He’s not here anymore. This is our home. Together. I love you, Matt.”
He loves me. He loves me. He loves me.
“Yes, I love you. The color of your eyes, the softness of your hair, the blush of your skin. I love everything about you. We don’t have to do anything at all. You had an experience already. We don’t have to push it.”
He loves me. He loves me. He loves me.
I collapsed onto the couch, curled into a ball. Charlie gently stroked my hair and continued to remind me of how much he loved me.
“I’m so sorry,” I cried. “I want to, I do. I just….”
“Can’t. And that’s fine. Today you can’t. Tomorrow might be another story. Every day brings new adventures, so don’t worry about today, when tomorrow is around the corner.”
He got up from the couch and began hobbling toward the bathroom. For some reason I pictured him walking out the door, and out of my life, all because I couldn’t take care of his needs. My stomach clenched at the thought of being alone again. After having a taste of companionship, I didn’t want to lose it.
“Where are you going?” I wailed. “Please don’t leave me.”
Charlie stopped in his tracks. “Whoa, hang on, sweetheart. Where is that coming from?”
I turned my gaze toward him, needing him to see my contrition. He had to believe how bad I felt. “I’m sorry. I’ll try harder, I promise.”
“Aw, fuck.” He hurried back to the couch and dropped next to me. “Matt, I’m only going to get a towel to clean you up, I swear. I have no intention of leaving you.” He stroked my cheek. “Until you tell me to go, you’re stuck with me. Okay?”
I nodded, because the lump in my throat wouldn’t allow me to speak.
“Two minutes, okay? Give me… well, okay, maybe five, because the bathroom is kinda far away and”—he tapped the cast on his leg—“I’m not as young as I used to be.”
I laughed, but it turned into a sob. My emotions were all over the place. I’d had an orgasm from another person touching me, and I’d had the opportunity to return the favor. How would he look at me now?
As he promised, he came back a few minutes later with a warm cloth that he used to clean me up. I couldn’t look at him, I was so ashamed. When he finished, he put the cloth into the basket, came back, and took my hand. “Come on,” he said softly.
“Where are we going?”
He tugged my hand gently. “I’d like you to come with me. You’ll need your jacket.”
I picked up my coat from the hook at the door and slid into it. Charlie grabbed his and wrapped it around his shoulders. He opened the door, a cold wind blowing through it, then took me outside to the swing.
“Have a seat, please.”
The tone of his voice had me wanting to run back to the house. He sounded defeated, angry.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered.
“Enough of that. Sit down, babe.”
Warmth flooded me when he called me babe. It chased the creeping chill that had begun to permeate my body.
After I sat down, he took the seat next to me and held my hand. “First thing, I need you to know that I am not upset. At all. You told me no one had touched you before me. That orgasm had to be monumental. It was probably stressful for you. Why do you think I would be angry?”
I shrugged and turned away from him.
“No, we’re not doing that. Look at me.” When I didn’t, he put a hand on my shoulder. “Matt? Please.”
I turned and saw no censure in his expression. He smiled softly, then leaned forward and kissed me gently.
“You gave me a gift tonight. You let me touch you. Right now you’re allowing me to hold you. How could I possibly be angry? Can I tell you something? It involves my ex, and if it would bother you, we don’t have to talk about it.”
My stomach cramped slightly, but I nodded. I had to trust him, because I loved him.
The realization struck me hard. Ilovedhim. For the first time in my life, I was truly in love. Not a crush on Tommy Scolari, who looked amazing in his wrestling singlet. Not mooning over Alex Mulholland. Not wanting to go to the dance with Marty. But love. And I would do my damnedest to hold on to it.
