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The last sits on top, and it’s a beautiful book. Bound with a soft tan leather cover and engraved markings on the spine in gold and silver. The edges of the pages are tipped in gold, but there are worn spots where it becomes obvious that, despite its pristine condition, it has been well read over the years. When I open the book, I discover that the pages are a thin onion skin with beautiful hand-drawn pictures tucked inside. The sketches are mostly in pen and ink or in pencil, and it’s clear they’ve been drawn and added in, since they’re not bound into the book like the rest of the pages. The paper is a much heavier linen weight, too. The fine quality allows the charcoals and inks to be absorbed between the fine linen strands.
They’re quite possibly the most stunning drawings I’ve ever seen. I pull out a couple, one incomplete sketch of each of the four Pevensie children and … the book is suddenly lifted from my fingers and replaced onto its stack.
“I’m so sorry,” I say, immediately releasing the book and stepping back. “That was rude of me to pry.” Miss Insecure, born in middle school, now insists on yammering on to fill in the silence so he’ll forget what a horrible mistake I just made and stop thinking bad things about me.
“Stop chatting, Lainey Bird,” Connor says, leaning down to kiss me softly. “I don’t care if you look through it. I just want to let you go change and … and I am dying to kiss you. I’ve wanted to kiss you all night.”
I smile, thankful he wasn’t upset about my rifling through his things.
“Bathroom is through there. I set out some clean towels and a new toothbrush.”
“Thank you,” I murmur and make a run for the bathroom with his T-shirt clutched between my fingers.
The shirt he gives me is from a rock concert from so long ago that most of the screen print on the front has dissolved in the hundreds of washes it has endured. I can barely make out the name of the band. But it’s so soft and smells like Connor. I’m thankful, too, it comes down long enough to cover my behind since I have nothing on under it except my powder blue panties.
When I, along with a very minty mouth, emerge from the bathroom, I can see Connor already changed into a pair of long cotton basketball shorts and a loose tee. He looks comfy and so super sexy. My Inner Sex Goddess applies her lip gloss.
We awkwardly switch places in front of the bathroom door, so he can take his turn, and I snuggle down into the sheets. They are, quite frankly, the softest sheets I’ve ever felt. They’re not cotton or satin or even silk. But they’re so soft my body just slides down into them. He has a lightweight down comforter thrown over the bed that provides the perfect weight without making me feel like I might suffocate. My body is so tired. I unclasp my watch and place it on the nightstand and see it’s well after three o’clock. I have never stayed up this late in my entire life!
When Connor comes to bed, I catch a glimpse of his face before he turns off the lamp. He looks exhausted, too. He settles himself on his back and then whispers into the darkness that surrounds us.
“You’re too far away. Come closer.”
Barking orders at me again. I want to roll my eyes, but I’m too tired. And, to be honest, I want to comply. I want to be closer.
I scoot toward the middle of the bed and feel his arm extend out, reaching to cup my head and draw it onto his shoulder. His shoulder and chest are absolutely the perfect height and firmness to be the best pillow ever. I could sleep curled next to him like this all night. And I kinda hope I do.
“I really feel bad I didn’t get you a birthday present,” I admit, filling the quiet around us with words again. I feel nervous. He said he didn’t want sex, but I still feel a bit … anxious. Cue catfight between Inner Sex Goddess and Miss Insecurity.
“This is my gift, Lainey Bird. You can’t know what it means for me just to hold you. Now, no more chatting. I’m beat.”
“You look tired.”
“Yeah, well I ended up working at the bar last night after you went home until we closed around 3 a.m. And the caterer and party people were here at the house at six this morning to get started setting up.”
His fingers curl around my body and begin lightly stroking my back. He’s tugged the shirt up so that I can feel his touch directly on my skin. A slit of flesh just above the waistband of my panties. But he does nothing to make it seem like he wants to get under the blue cotton. The slow, soft stroking somehow has the same effect on me as talking to fill the quiet spaces. It’s soothing and makes me feel as if there is nothing to worry about. I’m safe — my body and my heart.
“Connor?” I ask, not thinking he’ll still be awake. We’ve been lying still and quiet for what feels like an hour, although it’s probably only been a few minutes.
“Hmm?”
“Why do you call me Lainey Bird?”
He turns his head and kisses the top of my hair. His sweet amused smile presses against my scalp.
“You’ll think I’m crazy, but there’s something about you, Lainey. When I look into your eyes, I think I can see so much there that no one knows. Like you’ve flown with the clouds on your cheeks and no one knows about it. Plus, you chatter like a little bird in a tree to fill in the quiet. Does it really bother you that I call you that?”
“No, it’s just …” I pause, not sure I want to reveal anything more about myself.
“What? Tell me. I’d like to know.” His commanding tone is gone. Perhaps from his fatigue or perhaps because lying like this together in the dark, we can’t see one another’s expressions. We can just hear. Whatever it is, I’m compelled to disclose my first tiny secret to him. I can’t help but wonder if it is the first of many.
“It’s just, my name isn’t Elaine. Well, it is. Elaine is my middle name. My parents were these weird hippies. So, my sister and I both got these odd first names. But my grandmother insisted we have ‘normal’ middle names in case we ever wanted to be like everyone else.”
“Tell me your name, Lainey Bird,” he whispers, smoothing my temples with his soft kisses.
“Raven.”
