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It wasn’t that I thought she was finally choosing me, it was that I was choosing myself. I put myself first. I wanted to kiss her, so I did. Do I feel selfish? No. She was with me the whole time, and although I have no idea what this means for us, tonight I just don’t care.
There’s a stillness to the house as we walk back inside. I’ve noticed it before, and tonight it makes complete sense. In the city, we’re surrounded by the sounds of urban life. In the summer here it’s the lapping of the water against the shoreline, the cicadas, and the birds, but now in the winter, there is nothing. It’s dead silent, not in an eerie way, but a beautiful and calm way.
Leaving the lights off, I turn Emma around, lift her coat from her shoulders to help her out of it, and place it on the hook. I hang mine next to hers, and I’m momentarily stuck on what it would look like to have her belongings permanently blended with mine.
I know I’m getting ahead of myself. It was hard not to before, which is how I found myself unexpectedly in a dark place, and I have to remind myself now that I don’t know if what she’s saying about her ex is true or not. I hate thinking of him right now, but the insecurity I have about wondering if she would go back to him if he called is something I have to remind myself of so I don’t get carried away. Six years is a lot of years. I think anyone would be wary of this.
“Do you want something to drink?” I ask, and she just shakes her head no, her ponytail waving back and forth.
Moose circles us a couple of times, letting me know he’s happy we’re home, but as she and I stare at each other, ignoring him, he gets bored and heads off to his bed.
“Is there anything you need?” My voice is hoarse from the never-ending want of her that I have.
Her eyes widen and a small smile forms on her lips, but she again shakes her head no and steps closer to me. Her fingers dip into the waist of my jeans, which are sitting low on my hips, and she pulls so I sway toward her. My hands fall to her shoulders and slide down to her body, anchoring her to me.
Maybe that was the wrong question to ask, as I think both of us need—definitely want—a lot from each other. There are so many things I want to ask her, to say to her, but mostly, I just want to be near her. I know I should be worrying about tomorrow and the days after, but for tonight, I don’t care.
When I place my forehead on hers, one of her hands slides up my chest and wraps around my neck. It feels so good to have her hands on me, and the muscles in my stomach quiver.
“Stay upstairs with me tonight?” I ask.
She tilts her head a tiny bit so mine slips down, and we are now cheek to cheek. “Really?” Her breath fans out over my neck and my eyes slip shut to gather some self-control. She feels so good, she smells so good, and she tastes so damn good. It would be easy to stop thinking and to let this instinctual drive to claim her take over.
But tonight, it can’t be that night.
“Just sleep next to me,” I say, hoping she understands I can’t do anything more. Do I want to strip her down and refamiliarize myself with what every single inch of her skin tastes like, only to finish buried inside of her? Absolutely, but tonight is not that night. I don’t know what this is. I’m not even sure if I want to, but the fallout from last year damaged me, and I don’t want that to happen again. This girl . . . she almost broke me, and I won’t let it happen again.
However, she’s here, and for now I just want her next to me.
She nods her head, and I pull back and wrap my hands around her face. The moonlight is bright as it shines into the house, and along with the shadows, her beauty is ethereal. Lowering my lips to hers, I gently kiss her and wonder what it would be like to kiss her every day for the restof my life. At that thought, I release her and slip my fingers into hers to lead her to my room.
“Wait. I should run down and get some clothes,” she says.
“Nah, just wear a shirt of mine.” Selfishly, I want her in my clothes, which will hang on her like a dress, but if she went down and then returned wearing something tight and tiny, I’m certain my resolve about how this night is going to end would change.
“I haven’t been in your room,” she says as we pass through the door and she looks around.
“I know.” I’ve kept the door shut on purpose. I needed a few places in my house where she wasn’t, but all it took was one kiss for me to throw that right out the window.
“This room is bigger than I thought, and I love the windows.”
This room was one of the reasons why I bought this house. It is huge, overlooks the lake, and has a stone fireplace where I installed a real-looking gas fireplace, as dealing with wood and actually lighting a fire is just something I don’t want to do. Picking up the remote from my nightstand, I turn it on, and a gold light illuminates the darkness.
“Thanks. They were a seller for me too. Go ahead and help yourself to the closet, I’m going to use the bathroom and be right back.”
“Okay,” she says, her gaze following my head tilt toward a closed door.
Grabbing a pair of boxer briefs from the dresser, I walk into the bathroom and close the door. I can’t help but place my hands on the counter, drop my head, and just breathe. I need a minute or two to decompress from tonight and to pull myself together. Deciding on a quick shower, I toss all my clothes into the hamper and step under the warm water.
“This is fine. Letting her in is fine,” I mumble to myself.
I hate that I’ve come to this. Before Emma, I really never questioned anything. I was go with the flow and everything will turn out fine. Now, I’m standing here having to give myself a pep talk about cutting myself some slack. Slack or grace, and then I remember another quote: “Grace is a power that comes in and transforms a moment into something better.”
With that thought, thinking about tonight and these few stolen moments with her, I shut off the water. Walking out of the bathroom, I find Emma already sitting on the bed. She’s wearing a random black T-shirt of mine, and she’s pulled her hair up into a messy bun. The makeup on her face is gone and she looks wildly beautiful, just natural, the blankets pulled over her lap.
“I used the half bath in the living room.” She shrugs then gives me a small smile. “Your phone charger is on that side of the bed, so I just assumed . . .” She leaves her words hanging.
“M-Makes sense.” I run my hand over my head. My hair is still damp.
