Calm Like Home (11 page)

“You’ve got me. That’s my sugar daddy.”

“Man, I’m feeling a little jealous. I was hoping you’d want to hang out with me.”

“I might be able to make arrangements,” I say flirtatiously. I glance up at him then add, “You know, it’s times like these I really wish I could wink properly. There are so many times when a wink most appropriately conveys a message. I feel so excluded.”

He looks at me puzzled. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, believe me, I am. I can’t do it.”

“Come on, it can’t be that bad. Let me see”

“Adam, I’m telling you that you’ll never look at me the same again. Please don’t make me.” My reply only intrigues him further.

For whatever reason my face just doesn’t move that way. I have to focus intently to even close one eye at a time, and when I do, my face constricts very slowly and deliberately, my mouth stretching into a wide O shape. This results in the side of my face scrunching up in a way that resembles bitter beer face, only around the winking eye instead of the mouth. It’s quite alarming for the recipient of the wink, which is why I never pull this particular move out. But Adam is insistent, and I can never resist his charm for long, so when I finally demonstrate my winking skills he watches this chain of events play out over my face.

He bursts out laughing once my right eye finally closes and shrieks, “Good God, Clausen. That’s terrible!”

“I warned you!” I’m laughing uncontrollably now, unable to stop myself.

“Come on, bear, can I get an ‘oh my goodness’?” he asks mid-chuckle. He’s clutching his stomach, eyes sparkling, a huge grin plastered on his face.

“Stop it, Adam! My cheeks hurt from smiling so much.” I playfully push him away, still laughing.

“Do it again!”

“I will not! Before long that’s all you’ll think of when you see me. I don’t want you to stop coming around. Then what will I do?”

I freeze, realizing what I said and how close it borders on the truth, of my terror that he’ll leave for school and that’ll be the end of us. He glances away quickly, averting his eyes, and quietly mumbles, “Well at least we won’t find out today” as he turns and walks away.

When I get to my car after work I see a slip of server paper discretely tucked beneath my windshield wiper. It’s covered in an upright, almost illegible scrawl that could only be from one person. I smile to myself as I read it.

Miss Alexa, if you’re not too busy later, I was thinking maybe, just maybe, I could see you.

I immediately text him two words.

Come over.

I feel like I haven’t seen him in ages, when in all actuality it’s only been a matter of hours. When he arrives at my apartment he’s carrying a DVD. I know instantly what it is and burst out laughing. “Oh no!”

“It's time.” He grins widely and waggles the DVD case at me. “I hope this doesn't make you reconsider your stance on your favorite animal.”

In addition to bringing the DVD, Adam has also replenished our stock of Ben and Jerry’s. He grabs a tub of Strawberry Cheesecake and pops the rest in the freezer, then sets us up to watch the documentary. He reclines into the corner of my narrow couch and I sit between his legs, pressing my back into his chest and tilting my head to kiss him. I drag my fingers up his thighs and feel him chuckle against my mouth.

“I won’t be distracted, Alexa. We’re watching this thing.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I reply innocently, grinding my hips against him.

He smirks at me, his eyes dancing brightly over mine, and shakes his head. “I’m onto you.”

“All right, Westbrook,” I relent, withdrawing my hands with a flourish. “Let’s get it over with. Let’s watch some bears eat somebody. But I really don’t think these bears are representative of the larger population. They’re probably outcast bears. You know, the really mean ones none of the other bears want around,” I say lightheartedly.

He chuckles and whispers into my ear, “Calm down, my bear. I’m sure they aren’t all like this.”

He kisses my cheek lightly and I snuggle back into his chest. We stay wrapped up in each other long after the movie is over, the room lit only by the light of the fish tank. Adam reaches for the remote to my sound bar and begins streaming music from his phone, turning the volume way down. I watch the fish absentmindedly, my head pressed against his chest, feeling him softly stroking my hair. I drink in each tender motion, feeling complete calm, feeling perfectly at peace.

After a time he whispers, “I’m going to miss you tomorrow at the Jack concert. Would it be okay if I came by after?”

Like he even needs to ask. He’s over here practically every night now. This is becoming just as much his place as it is mine. I’m terrified for what that means when he finally goes away. Will it feel empty? Will it feel like he’s missing? I force the thoughts from my mind, wanting to enjoy his presence while I still can.

“I’d like that.” I beam up at him, tracing my fingers along the defined lines of his chest.

A grin spreads across his face when he sees me smile and he kisses the top of my head. “I think I figured it out.”

“Hmm?”

“What you remind me of. I’ve been trying to pinpoint what it is,” he says, still smiling. “You’re like a sunset,”

“A sunset?” I grin incredulously.

He nods. “You’re so warm, so full of light, so calming, so beautiful I can’t look away.”

I grin and kiss his cheek, his forehead, his nose. “You can be so cheesy, Westbrook.” I gently shake my head at him, still beaming at his words.

“Hey, I thought that was pretty good!” He feigns hurt feelings but he’s grinning right back at me.

“It was wonderful,” I murmur. Every inch of me is smiling now, every inch exuding joy. “And sweet, and thoughtful.”

“You are. You’re my sunset.”

His lips pull over mine with exquisite tenderness and my heart sings in my chest. I feel so treasured, so adored, so complete. He sighs contentedly against me, his hands running through my hair, and I breathe him in. As my lungs expand I try to push away the pang of sadness that hits square in my chest, the nagging at the edge of my consciousness reminding me I only have so many more kisses before the last one, the one that is goodbye.

As we lay, our bodies entwined, closer than we’ve ever been before, I want so badly to finally push all these thoughts swimming through my head out my mouth. I want to tell him what he means to me, how he makes me more, makes me better. I want to ask him what we’re doing here, if he feels the same. I want to ask him what will happen between us when the summer ends. But the truth is, I’m terrified. I’m terrified of hearing his silence, terrified of what the distance might mean for us. I don’t know how we can ever survive as anything less than what we are now, ensconced in one another’s arms, feeling perfectly complete, feeling perfectly as one.

Chapter 12

“I see how it is,” Annabelle grumbles as she pulls her door open the night of the Jack concert. “Only hang out with us when your man is out of town.” She lets out a chuckle. “Then again, I can’t really blame you.”

“You’ll always be my best girl, Annabelle.”

“Well pretty soon I’ll have you all to myself. Then he’ll be the one who’s craving your company instead of me.”

I feel my stomach lurch at her words, the sharp stab of truth searing my belly.

“So did Damien go tonight too?” Carly asks as we join her on the couch.

“I’m not really sure. I kind of forgot to ask.” A slow smile creeps across my face and Annabelle tosses a couch pillow at me.

“You naughty girl!”

“What?” I ask, wide-eyed. “I didn’t say why.”

The sound of my phone ringing in my purse interrupts my thoughts. When I retrieve it I’m surprised to see Adam’s name on the display. I can’t help it; I’m instantly beaming.

Seeing my reaction, Annabelle calls out, “We all know who that is!”

When I answer I hear loud music blaring in the background and know he’s calling from the concert.

“My bear!” he yells loudly into the phone so I can hear him over the music. “They’re playing Banana Pancakes and all I can think of is you and me in your bed!” With how loud his voice is I’m fairly certain that Annabelle and Carly and anyone in his vicinity can hear him too. I can make out Damien shouting dramatically in the background, “Oh bear!”

“I’ll see you tonight!” he shouts into the phone before hanging up.

The girls are both watching me intently and burst into laughter when I put the phone away.

“Geez, Alexa, what’ve you done to him?” Annabelle laughs. “He can’t stand to be away from you for five minutes.”

If only that were really the case. Then maybe I wouldn’t be so terrified at what his departure means for us.

“So what about you miss thing?” I raise my eyebrows at Annabelle trying to divert the conversation away from me. “Whose heart are you currently breaking?”

She grins devilishly. “Preston and I are talking. Actually that’s probably a bad word for it. Preston and I are meeting at night and
not
talking.”

I relax into her couch, welcoming the distraction of a night with the girls. I try to let myself get swept up in the conversation and laughter, but each minute apart from Adam is magnified, drawn out, torturous, an ominous forecast of what’s to come in only a few more days when he finally goes away.

It’s the dead of night when I feel the bed shift under his weight. His arms wrap tight around me in the darkness and he pulls me into him, kissing my forehead, my temple, my cheek. I nuzzle my face against his, still half-asleep, rejoicing in the feel of him around me again. His face is still pressed to mine and I can feel his mouth pull into a broad smile.

“My bear,” I barely hear him whisper. It’s so soft I wonder if I’m actually dreaming. “I’m home.”

I stir at his side, shifting closer. Always closer. This night apart has given me a brief glimpse into what his absence will truly be like. There’s nothing I want more than to push the inevitable away, to avoid it all costs, to pretend it isn’t happening. Just when things have become so intense, so real, so true, it’s almost time to let him go.

I blink my eyes open once, twice, and there he is. He’s sleeping face down on the pillow, his stomach pressed into the mattress. I’ve never seen anyone sleep that way.
How can he breathe?
Just to be sure he is, I kiss his shoulders and stroke my fingers along the musculature of his back. He mumbles something into the pillow I don’t catch, but knowing he’s awake I clamber onto his back, planking over him, kissing his head and neck and shoulders.

“Am I squishing you?” I ask gleefully.

He turns his head to the side. “You’re so heavy. I can’t breathe,” he deadpans.

“Really?” I shriek.

He presses his palms into the mattress and lifts us both into a push up, me still lying on his back. I squeal with delight then roll off him when he lowers us.

He wraps me in his arms and pulls me into his chest, kissing the top of my head. “Stay with me.”

“What?” I grin up at him.

“Come on B, call in sick. Stay with me today.”

“I can’t do that,” I protest. “I’ve never called in sick a day in my life, not even when I’m actually sick!”

“Which is exactly why you should call in sick today. We can stay in bed all day. I’ll be real, real nice to you, I promise.” He has a twinkle in his eyes when he adds, “Many, many times.”

He leans in to kiss me then sweeps his fingers delicately over my chest, instantly igniting me. I squeal away from him.

“You’re
such
a bad influence on me. I wouldn’t even know what to say!”

“Tell him you’re not feeling well. He’ll believe you because you never do it. But do it soon, otherwise he’ll think you’re too hungover to get out of bed. It is Sunday morning after all.”

I sit up, my stomach a nervous wreck. I can’t believe I’m actually considering going along with this. But what could be better than spending the day in bed with Adam? The deciding factor, the thing that pushes me over the edge is not his touch, or his charming smile, but the fact that in five days he’ll be leaving. I don’t know if I’ll get the chance to have a lazy Sunday with him again, so I buck up and make the call.

The phone rings twice before Jim picks up. I lower my voice, trying to find the perfect balance of sounding miserable without overdoing it.

“Hey, Jim. It’s Alexa. I’m so sorry to do this to you but I’m really not feeling well. Do you think you can manage without me today? I don’t want to leave you in a bind or anything but I really don’t feel well at all and I think the guests will notice.”

“Stay home,” he mutters. “I don’t want you in here breathing on the food.”

“Thanks, Jim. And again, I’m really sorry about this.”

When I hang up Adam’s mouth is hanging open.

“You sure you haven’t done that before? You’re a pro!”

“Hey, you make a mean offer, Westbrook. I had to call in the big guns.”

Our day proceeds exactly as he described. We stay in bed all day, completely engrossed in one another’s presence. We lay in a hundred different positions: side-by-side, our heads sharing a pillow; my back pressed to his chest; his limbs splayed out over mine; us lying face to face, fingers interlocked. We snuggle and cuddle and rotate, but always we are touching. We whisper when we don’t have to. We stare into each other's eyes. I memorize the sound of his heartbeat. I commit every mole, every line, every divot to memory. His fingers stroke through my hair, running between the strands, rolling and smoothing, relaxing me, settling my mind. And he is incredibly nice to me.
Several times
. He’s beginning to know my body better than I do, and I can’t say I’m complaining.

We’re lying naked, entwined, when his fingertips brush the scar on my right arm. His voice is hushed but tender when he asks, “This was from the sign-stealing night, right? What was it, Come See Our Dick’s?”

“Dick’s Coming Soon.” I match my tone to his, enjoying our quiet sanctuary, far removed from the world and the reality that’s closing in.