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"That was great," I say as we walk out of the movie theater. I hold onto Thomas’s hand. "Thank you."
He smiles at me. He’d taken me to an artsy movie, the kind that I loved so much. He’d paid attention when he’d worked through my stack of DVDs. The movie had been fantastic, and Thomas was the perfect boyfriend.
We aren't official, yet. I don't know if he'll ask me, or if we'll carry on the way we do without labels. A part of me feels like we don't need them. I know where I stand with him and how I feel about him. Every day, he shows me how he feels about me.
It's not just the sex, either. Of course, that part of our relationship is great, too. Taking that next step has been amazing, and I feel like I'm connected to him in a way I've never felt with anyone. But Thomas is just a great guy, overall. Attentive and caring, and he listens when I speak. How many guys do that?
"Are you okay?" I ask when we walk to the car. My arm is looped through his and our sides are pressed against each other, our strides matching.
"Why?" he asks.
"You’re quiet, a little distant."
He nods. "Sorry. My dad called, and we never get along very well. Sometimes I think the only reason we get along at all is because we’re in different countries."
"I’m sorry to hear that," I say. I'm starting to learn that Thomas isn't in a very good place with his parents at all. He never says much. It's more in what he doesn't say that I figure it out. Still, it helps to know what's bothering him.
"Don’t worry about it, though," he says and kisses me. "Come home with me? Distract me."
I smile and nod. He kisses me again, and we stand by the car, making out for a short while.
"Is it helping?" I ask.
Thomas nods. "A bit. It'll work even better if you take off your clothes."
I smile. Heat washes through my body and pools between my legs. The feeling is all too familiar to me now. I want him. Making love in his apartment is just that much better than in mine. It feels like when he’d taken me there, he’d let me in all the way, and it's a treat whenever he does it again.
We get into the car, and Thomas turns the ignition. The car purrs to life, and we pull off.
"You know," I say. "I think we should go away for a bit before the summer ends and I have to go back to class. What do you think? I’ll pay for my half and everything."
Thomas smiles. "You don’t have to do that."
I shake my head. "I want to, though. I think it'll be fun."
"It will be," he says. I look at him. A dark cloud seems to hang over him. He barely smiles, and we haven't talked about much since we’d met up today. I’ve been doing most of the talking, and even though he responds to me, he doesn't offer up much conversation of his own.
"How can I make it better?" I ask. I hate seeing him like this.
Thomas shakes his head and puts his hand on my thigh. "I’ll get over it. Don’t worry. You just focus on what we’re going to do when we get home. I have all sorts of dirty things planned out."
He grins, and it's his usual naughty grin. When we park the car and get into the elevator to his penthouse, I'm already turned on beyond belief. I want him. The first time we’d been in this elevator flashed in my mind’s eye, and I kiss Thomas.
When the elevator door opens and we step out, a woman sits on the floor. She gets up when she sees us. She has red hair and freckles. She's wearing a beige coat and high heels, and she has the rich sheen some of the people in these parts have.
"Thomas," she says, walking to him. She puts her arms around his neck and presses her lips against his.
"Hey," I say, but it comes out more as a question.
Thomas pushes her away from him.
"Jessica," he says. He glances at me before turning his attention back to her. "What the hell are you doing?"
"I came to see you. You’re always avoiding my calls. I didn’t know what else to do."
Thomas shakes his head. I'm dumbfounded. What's going on? It's clear that Thomas knows this woman. An uncomfortable feeling settles in my chest.
"Who are you?" I ask her.
