Page 48 of Feeding Hope

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Luckily, it was only for a couple of weeks until I received my first paycheck. Things were still tight, but I no longer felt afraid, and I was stronger now than I had ever been.

He picked up a pillow off the second-hand sofa, admiring the bright purple covering. “Was this one of the things you made with your sewing machine?”

I nodded shyly. I didn’t think it had turned out poorly, but he was used to much nicer things. Was it too “poor”? I was nervous about what he thought about it.

He set the pillow back down and walked over to me, taking me in his arms and hugging me close. I felt a gentle kiss on the top of my head. “You’ve done well, sweetness.”

A thrill ran through me at Jesse’s nickname for me. He’d only used it in his letters before, so to hear it from his lips made me feel extra special.

Eager to share with him how thrifty I was, I told him, “I made all the curtains, the tablecloth, and the throw pillows. I started with the ones in the bedroom.” My face burned with the admission.

He raised his hands to my face, brushing the backs of them against my cheeks. “Did you now?” His voice was soft, and full of something I’d not heard before. “Show me.”

It wasn’t a question. I could say no, but I didn’t want to.

He grabbed the bag he’d set down on the floor, and I took him by the hand to lead him into the single, small bedroom of the apartment. Before I left for the ceremony, I’d pulled the curtains. When we entered, the room was dim, the barest glimmers of sunlight slipping between the folds of the material.

He laid his cover and his bag on the dresser as we passed it.

I’d left my hair down today, only pinning back the sides with two simple barrettes. When we stopped in the middle of the room, his hands brushed my hair back, then rested them on my shoulders, his thumbs brushing back and forth across the bone.“I thought the blue dress you wore yesterday was my favorite, but this one makes you even prettier.” A single fingertip traced the strap of the white eyelet material. “You looked like an angel today.”

“I made this too,” I whispered.

He trailed the back of his hand down my cheek, and I leaned into his touch.

“Lyrical,” he whispered. “When we were back in Wisconsin, we kept our… relationship almost completely platonic. I admit it was mostly due to me not feeling very secure in being physical with you. I’m not… like Jamie.”

“I know. Girls always talked about how you never dated. You never even took girls to the dances. All of them hoped they’d be the one to be the first girl to catch your eye.”

“None of them ever did. Certainly, there were pretty girls. Nice girls. But I never felt drawn to anyone until I met you. Even then, I felt insecure. Jamie tried to help me. Give me advice. But, well…”

“He’s Jamie.”

“Exactly. During the time with the others in my platoon, there was a lot of talk. About girls. Sex. It made me think maybe I’d been foolish with you. Maybe not because we never went all the way, but that I didn’t offer you at least something more than what we had.”

Raw vulnerability consumed his face, causing me to feel extra tender toward him. I’d always worried that boys saw me as easy prey for sex. That I was needy for attention because I was poor. It was more that I wanted nothing to distract me from getting good grades so I could hopefully go to college on a scholarship and get out of the poverty my family had lived in my whole life.

I knew Jesse wasn’t like that though.

He made me feel treasured when he held my hand or we cuddled on the couch. There were kisses and light petting. Welaughed a lot at our awkwardness as we learned together. Never once did he pressure me for more, and back then it had been fine.

Now? Now I wanted to know what we missed out on.

“I never felt cheated, Jesse. We are simply who we are. When we’re ready… If we’re ready… it happens. I love you, Jesse. Whether or not we’re intimate, it doesn’t change that.”

He smiled at me. “I would like to be with you, Lyrical. In every way.”

“I want that too.”

Ever so gently, Jesse took my hands and laid them on his pectoral muscles. Beneath his shirt, I felt the beating of his heart, and my own pulsed in time with his.

My knees wobbled at the touch of his lips, so sweet. Tentative. Feeling me tremble, he tightened his arms around me to keep me upright. It was such a Jesse thing to do, ever my protector. At that moment, I loved him more than I ever had.

Pulling back, he gauged my response to his kisses. I pushed up onto my tiptoes to mesh our mouths again. Was it too eager? Too forward.

Apparently not, because I felt him harden against me as he kissed me a second time, then a third.

Once again, he drew back a few inches, his eyes flicking back and forth between mine. Taking a shaky breath, then exhaling, he dropped his gaze to my dress.