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“Adam?”
“I…” I have nothing to say. Clearly, Steph takes it the wrong way.
“You know, you’re too self-sacrificing. Sometimes, it’s too convenient to do nothing.”
I realize she’s talking about this. Us. The lines. Something about the company. Something about us not doing this.
“I just... I don’t want to lose you,” I say softly.
There’s silence. Thick, thick as the smoothie that you make in a blender. Even thicker. Thicker than the fog you can’t see through, and thicker than the blackest night. Then Steph sighs.
“I’m not going anywhere. You should know me better than that. Besides, finding another job is a lot of work. I’d just rather not.”
“But if…if this doesn’t…”
“If this doesn’t work, I’m still not going anywhere. I’m not edgy, and I’m not a hater. I’m not someone who wants to make someone else pay. I’m not someone who lives in the past and has all these regrets and moans about them all the time and brings them up. I’m not someone who just can’t get on with it even if it does not work out. You should know that.”
“I…”
“Everything we said before was true, everything like your fears and the company. I know you’ve been used in the past—used and treated badly. I know it hurt you and scarred you. I know all about it. And I promise I would never do that to you, no matter what. I would sign anything that needed to be signed, and I would never take something that wasn’t mine. I would never be mean to you just because it gives me some perverse satisfaction. You’re not a bank account, and you’re not a freaking machine that spits out money for me. I don’t need things. I’m quite happy with what I have right now, minus the roof on my house, which really needs to be fixed. I like quiet things, like reading and gardening. I like thrifting, garage sales, plays, libraries, markets, craft shows, that kind of thing. I really am easy going even if I’m too blunt a lot of the time. I was always taught that it’s best to be honest, which has gotten me into so much trouble in the past because people like to be lied to, and I just can’t seem to grasp that. But it also means I couldn’t be here right now and tell you I’m something I’m not. I have no aim here. There is no end goal. I didn’t think anything like this would happen…”
“But you know me. You know all about me. You’ve looked after me for so long.”
“When you say it like that, it’s not very sexy.”
“It’s sexy,” I correct. “Maybe not sexy, sexy, but it is meaningful. Special. You’ve always been there, and I’ve been too up my ass to see you.”
“What an expression.” Steph’s lips tilt.
“You know exactly how I’ve felt.”
“Not really. I was wrong about a lot of it, but you corrected me that night in the tent.”
“But you’ve always been there. When I’m with you, when I kiss you, when you touch me, I…well, I don’t know how to tell you how I feel. But it’s different, different in a good way. Like we fit. Like anything might actually be possible.”
Steph reaches for me then. She cups my cheek and brushes her finger over my lips. “Anything is always possible. I really want to believe that’s true. I think that without hope, life is pretty bleak.”
“Do you feel like that too? Like even though we said we shouldn’t and couldn’t, that this feels like we can because it’s just right?”
“I don’t believe in fate. I believe in choices, decisions, and hard work. I think we could do whatever we want. We didn’t want to before because everyone has fears, and everyone has a past. Everyone has wounds and scars. Most people want to make sure what they’re doing doesn’t hurt anyone else, which is admirable even if it is a little misplaced.”
I let Steph guide me back to her, and I let her kiss me. Gently, erasing past hurts, and letting her touch and words flow through me. She’s so much more than socks, so much more comforting, calming, and gentle. She has my heart in her hands, and she could do anything with it, but I know that like socks, she’ll never betray me. She’ll never suddenly turn thorny and full of barbs, never be vicious or vengeful. I trust her, and I want her. I want this. This trip has given me hope, Steph has given me hope, and she’s made me feel like I can do the impossible.
To trust again. To trust her.
Maybe even feel again. But I already do feel something. Something that takes up all the room in my chest.
“I want you,” Steph pants against my mouth. “It’s scary for me to admit too, but I do. I want you, and I don’t want to stop. I want to do everything with you. I want to touch you. I want to learn what you taste like. And I want to make you feel good.”
She could say she wants me to pleasure her, that she wants me to make her come,
that she wants me to learn all of her. But no. She wants to make me feel good. She’s not thinking about herself, as usual. She’s thinking about me.
I don’t know why that should make my head spin or my chest ache. I should know by now that this is Steph. Selfless, caring, wonderful, sweet, and compassionate Steph.
“Me too.” I kiss the tip of her nose. “All those things. We have time, but first, can I taste you?”
“I like that you ask me,” she says, stroking my jaw. “That you respect me enough to even think of asking.”
