Eminent Love (11 page)

“It’s beautiful, Creed. I love it.” She set the painting on her lap and wrapped her arms around my neck.

I pulled away after a few seconds and held onto her shoulders, keeping her attention on me. I could tell my change in demeanor had left her unsettled by her blinking and harsh swallows. I needed to hurry this along before I completely terrified her, except I couldn’t slow my heart rate down enough to get the words out.

Finally, she covered my cheek with the palm of her hand. Her warmth flooded me and instantly soothed my panic. “Talk to me, Creed. You’re scaring me.”

I glanced down for a moment, hoping it’d give me the courage I needed. I’d never done this before, and that thought alone terrified me. Staring into her eyes left me nervous about her reaction—I worried she’d reject me. I’d never experienced anything like it before, and I didn’t know how to handle myself. But the second my gaze met hers again, I became hypnotized by the bright pools of clear blue, and all my fear dissipated into thin air.

“This painting means so much to me, Layne. It’s why I wanted you to have it.”

“It means so much to me, too, Creed,” she said with a smile, speaking before I could finish what I had to say.

I shook my head, letting her know I wasn’t done. “The reason it means so much to me is because this view”—I pointed to the textured acrylics—“is what I saw when I fell in love with you. I didn’t know it at the time. All I knew was something felt different—felt
right
. I knew I didn’t want to let you go. I didn’t want to take you home, or go back to my apartment alone. I wanted to learn everything I could about you. It was all so new to me, and I had no idea what it was. But now…now I know it was love. It
is
love. I feel it every second I’m with you. Every time I think of you.”

She gasped before covering her quivering lips with the tips of her fingers. But she was too late. I already heard the short, shallow intake of air. It was enough to force my mouth into a smile so deep it left my cheeks aching.

A lone tear slipped from the inside corner of her eye, ran down the side of her nose, and then stalled at the edge of her plump upper lip where I stole it away with my thumb. She didn’t move, didn’t utter a single word, only sat unblinking at me with her chest rising and falling dramatically.

Before telling her how I felt, I feared she’d reject me. I worried she wouldn’t feel the same way. But sitting in front of her, surrounded by the sounds of her deep breaths, I realized it didn’t matter how she felt about me. It didn’t matter if she repeated the same words or kept them to herself. Because this wasn’t about me. It was about her, about the love I had for her. Love I’d never felt for another person before. And it suddenly occurred to me…this is unconditional love, my fears no longer mattered, her happiness superseded my own.

“I love you, too, Creed,” she whispered through her parted fingers.

I didn’t think I heard her right, and I dipped my chin until we were eye level, inches apart from one another. “Say that again?”

Her hand fell away from her mouth. She ran her fingers through my hair and then held onto my neck, resting her forehead against mine. “I love you, too.” And then she sealed her words to my lips with her mouth.

The painting fell off her lap and landed on the floor, but neither of us bothered to separate long enough to pick it up. We were all hands and mouths, desperately needing to get closer. My fingers found the warm skin of her stomach beneath the bottom of her shirt, which caused her to suck in deeply, momentarily breaking our kiss. I’d touched her there before, but had always stopped before getting too far. And this time, I didn’t know if I was capable of stopping, strong enough to pull away before reaching the line I’d never crossed with her before.

My hand trailed higher on her bare abdomen as our tongues fought for control. The tips of my fingers softly grazed her smooth skin, moving higher and higher at an unhurried pace. My dick was hard and throbbed painfully behind the zipper of my pants, my balls growing tighter the longer we dragged it out.

Just before my fingers found the edge of her bra, she pulled away and my hand fell limply from beneath her shirt. Our breaths were shallow and hasty, our chests heaving as we desperately fought to fill our lungs with air.

Instead of pacing ourselves, wanting to make the moment last, we were driven by raw emotion. Like two trains barreling toward each other in the middle of the night, unable to reach the other fast enough. We were hungry for the affection after admitting our feelings, and if we didn’t slow it down, we’d end up doing something she might not have been ready for.

I didn’t want Layne to think I told her I loved her to get in her pants.

Nor did I want her to give it up because her endorphins were high.

The moment needed to be right. It needed to be thought out, not rushed. And it certainly didn’t need to be the night before I left for a week. So I scooted away from her a few inches to give us enough space to breathe and calm down.

“Do you want to know what your present is?”

I studied her exultant expression and prayed it wasn’t what I thought of earlier.

“Drea and I are moving out of my parents’ house.”

My lungs were depleted of oxygen as the air rushed past my lips, wafting over her face. My shoulders sagged at the relief. As much as I’d wanted a piece of her as a gift, I knew I’d never be able to leave. One taste of her and I’d be on the phone with my parents telling them I wouldn’t be able to make it home for Christmas.

She giggled at my antics, but continued. “My dad is taking us after New Year’s to find an apartment. He’s going to help us pay for it as long as we keep our grades up. This way, we won’t all four have to be here at the same time. We can have space.” Her smile began to falter as her attention moved about my room. “I guess it’s not really much of a present for you…but—”

“Layne.” I lifted her chin with my fingers and forced her eyes on mine. “Just being with you is enough. I know you’re saving your paychecks for a car. I never expected you to buy me anything. And I love how you share your gifts with me. You giving me your time, away from Colin and Dre, is all I need. It’s more than I need. I love you, Yen.”

She drew her head back sharply and quirked a brow at me. “Yen?”

“Yeah…I told you I’d come up with a nickname no one else had.”

She angled her face away, twisted her lips, and then turned back to peer at me through squinted eyes. “And you thought Japanese currency would fit me the most?”

I laughed and dipped my chin, knowing I’d have to explain, and it could very well show her how lame I truly was. “No. Yen also means a strong desire, or hope.” I paused to see if she’d do or say anything before I finished with my explanation. “At the risk of sounding pathetic, I wanted something not only unique, but also something perfectly fitting for you. And since you were named after Superman, I found out the Superman symbol—the S inside the diamond—stands for hope. So I found another word meaning hope…all the other words had more than one syllable.”

Her cheeks turned pink, but her lips split into a wide grin, crinkling the skin beside her eyes and causing the blue to shine bright like a summer sky. “Well, then…I love you, too, Yang.”

Laughter ripped through me, and I had to brace myself with my hands on my knees to keep from doubling over. “That’s
yin
, Layne. Not yen. Totally different.”

“Hey now, if you can twist things around in order to give me a nickname, then I can do the same. Not to mention, I like it. Two halves of the same thing. And if you want to get technical,
Supergirl
explains the symbol as meaning stronger together. Like the yin and yang.”

I quickly learned just how possible it was to love her even more than a moment ago. I decided to keep my argumentative thoughts to myself and didn’t explain to her how the yin and yang meant dark and light, not two halves of the same thing. Because in reality, I liked her interpretation of it better. “I love it.”

“And I love you.” She leaned in and softly pressed her lips to mine.

I
glanced
down at my hand on the steering wheel, noticing the familiar ink peeking out beneath the band of my watch. I always absentmindedly traced the spot on my wrist with my thumb. I wore long-sleeved shirts every day for work, which helped to hide the permanent reminder of her and the bond we shared, but it never hid it from me. I didn’t even need to see it to know it was there. It was etched in me. Inked in my skin.

Burned into my memory.

Branded on my heart.

She was always there
.

The rush of adrenaline I’d woken up with this morning had kept me awake until almost five o’clock. Once the interstate became bogged down with commuters, I knew it wouldn’t do me any good to keep driving. I decided to turn off and grab something to eat before finding some place to crash.

I’d ended up in the epitome of small-town America, the sort of place where the storefronts were rolled up just after sunset. Lucky for me, the picturesque little town boasted a diner next to a quaint motel not even two miles off the interstate. A handful of people sat in the booths around the clean place, and everyone appeared to be friendly. I only expected a meal. I got so much more.

My waitress looked to be around my mom’s age—late fifties, early sixties. She’d fumbled through the menu after I asked her about a few of the items, and even had to go back and ask the cook a couple questions. I could tell right away she was new. But it didn’t irritate me; instead, it was endearing, and I became rather fond of her.

I’d noticed her limping when she first greeted me, and the more I observed her, the more I realized her painful gait had been caused by her shoes. When she came to take away my dinner plate, I offered her a seat across from me. Of course, she declined. But before saying no, I caught her glancing around the open space, looking for someone. I could tell she wanted to sit down, but decided against it out of fear. I gently placed my hand over hers on top of the table, and once again asked her to take a seat. Reluctantly, she did.

“I’m so sorry if the service—”

I held up my hand, immediately cutting her off. “Please, Phyllis, don’t apologize. You have no need to. My service has been amazing. I couldn’t have asked for more. But I think you’d benefit from new shoes,” I said with a soft laugh. “You look like you’re in pain, so I thought you could use a few minutes to rest your feet.”

Her smile was soft, adding only a few more wrinkles to her face, along with a slight blush to her cheek. “I think the problem is they
are
new shoes. I haven’t worked a job in…gosh, over thirty years.”

My eyes widened, questions filling my head too fast to ask any.

She must’ve noticed, because after a moment, she elaborated. “My husband passed away almost a year ago. Our children come home as much as they can, but it’s hard on them. You know? Losing their father…it hasn’t been easy on any of us.”

I couldn’t imagine what it must’ve been like for her. I didn’t even want to think about spending over half my life with Layne, having a family with her, and then lose her before our time was up. This past year had been hard enough as it was, but at least we still had a chance.

“I started working again to give me something to do. I realized I needed to occupy my time—plus, I like to be around people. I guess I wasn’t expecting it to be so hard on my feet,” she said with a dismissive laugh. “I’d move closer to my daughter, although I’m just not ready to give up the house yet.”

I knew about that all too well. Even though Layne had only moved away, there were things we’d accumulated together that I wasn’t ready to let go of. “How long were you married?”

Her lips turned up and her eyes glowed from across the table. It was sincere, deep, and absolute happiness I saw on her face. “Forty-two years.” She spun the gold band on her ring finger, and then noticed my attention to it. “We’re still married, though. He’s moved on to a better place, and he’s waiting for me to make my way to him.”

Even though I continued to fill my lungs with oxygen, I felt like I’d started to suffocate. It struck a chord with me. Rendered me speechless as I sat across the table from Phyllis. I was mesmerized by the way she touched her wedding band, never giving up hope.

She spent another minute at the table with me before heading off to get my bill. I left behind a hundred dollars, not even looking at the total. I hadn’t done it out of charity, but as my way of saying thank you. Without knowing it, she offered me something I’d never forget.

Half an hour later, I was laying on top of an uncomfortable bed, staring at the popcorn ceiling. If I’d taken a flight, I would’ve been with Layne right now. Except I needed to take my time getting to Layne—not so much for me but for her. If Drea had told her I was coming, and I’m sure she did, Layne needed to soften to the idea. She may have been the one who left, but I’d broken her, too. Just because it was black and white for me, didn’t mean it was for her. A year ago, anytime I thought of Layne, unfettered rage boiled inside. Once that phase passed, I became consumed by grief. The grief had morphed into regret.

This was my time to turn my regret into hope.

Then

C
hristmas
with my parents was the same as it was every year. It was nice to see them and spend time with my dad, but I missed Layne like crazy. We spoke every night on the phone. I’d lay on my childhood bed with my tired eyes following the shadows above me while listening to her voice, pretending she was there beside me instead of hours away.

I’d told my parents everything I could about the girl who’d stolen my heart. They were genuinely happy for me, and must’ve said a hundred times how much they couldn’t wait to meet her. When I’d told Layne about my parents’ interest in meeting her, she grew quiet. And it made me hate the distance between us even more.

My mom wanted me to stay through New Year’s Day. She wanted me to be there for our family tradition. My grandparents came over, my aunts, uncles, cousins—the whole family got together for lunch. My mom believed if you spent the first day of the year surrounded by loved ones, then love would follow you for the following three hundred and sixty-four days. I didn’t agree nor disagree. But if her belief
was
true, not being around Layne on January first would be bad luck. Not to mention, being here and not there at the end of the countdown didn’t appeal to me. But Mom didn’t want me to leave early. She’d given me the guilt trip to end all guilt trips until I decided to stay. Although, I had no intention of returning the following Christmas. I wouldn’t do this again. I’d never choose to spend a week away from Layne, especially a holiday week involving mistletoes and kisses at midnight.

I grabbed a beer from the cooler on the rear deck and then took a seat near the fire. We’d lived in this house since I was in middle school, so almost every neighbor knew us. When my parents threw parties, it seemed as if everyone in a three block radius came. Tonight had been no different. People I hadn’t seen since last New Year’s spilled into the open back yard, though I had no desire to interact with any of them. I was perfectly content sitting alone and keeping warm.

I’d gone inside to call Layne, but she didn’t answer. I figured she was out with Drea and Colin, and although I trusted them, it still pissed me off. She should’ve been with
me
. I hated being hours away with people I barely knew while she was out with my best friend. After waiting around in my room for almost half an hour for her to return my call, I finally gave up and headed outside, hoping the crowd would lift my spirits.

No such luck.

My mom had a big digital clock she hung on the patio every year. It counted down the hours, minutes, and seconds in bright red numbers. I glanced over my shoulder and noted only ten minutes remained, and it left me with the realization the only thing my lips would touch at midnight was my beer.

I picked at the label on my bottle while staring at the phone, willing it to ring. If I couldn’t have Layne with me when the ball dropped, I at least wanted to hear her voice. But as the numbers ticked down on the clock, so did my hope.

Hope.

Yen
.

I wanted nothing more than to feel her lips on mine and hold her in my arms. It’s how I wanted to start my new year. And then with three minutes left, my mom called my name from the patio door. I glanced over my shoulder and saw her standing in the doorway. I assumed she needed me to help get the champagne ready, so I set my beer down and got off the chair to make my way toward her. With less than five feet between us, she moved to the side, and the person now standing in front of me made my steps halt. My breath turned stale. My body completely froze…all except my heart. My heart thudded erratically, threatening to break through the confines of my chest in order to get to her.

Layne.

She took a step. I took a step. And then we launched ourselves into each other’s arms. Her body was so warm, so familiar. I didn’t want to let go, but at the same time, I wanted to pull away just to see if she was real. I couldn’t believe she was here…in my arms.

“What are you doing here?” I asked as I stared into her tired eyes.

“I couldn’t imagine ringing in the new year without you.” Her voice wavered, and I could tell she was nervous. Had I taken my sight off her and glanced around, I’m sure I would’ve found everyone watching us. But I didn’t. Because I didn’t want to stop staring at her. “I hope you don’t mind.”

I finally turned my attention to my mom, who stood behind Layne, and waited for an explanation. I knew Layne, and it wasn’t like her to show up at a stranger’s house unannounced. Hell, it’d taken her two months to walk into
my
place without an invitation.

“I knew you wanted to see her, and I didn’t want you to leave yet. So I called her up and invited her to spend New Year’s with us.” Mom placed her hand on my cheek and smiled sweetly at me. “After all, how you spend January first sets the pace for the rest of the year.” And with that, she winked at Layne and walked away.

Before I could utter another word, the crowd lingering on the deck and in the yard began to count down. I stared at Layne. She stared back. Neither of us joined in on the excitement, deciding instead to admire and appreciate one another.

Ten.

Nine.

Eight.

Light bounced off the glimmer in her eyes, and I realized she was on the verge of crying. Worry filled me over what had happened, but then a smile formed on her lips, and I understood they were tears of happiness.

Seven.

Six.

Five.

She pressed her hands against my chest and then ran them up to my shoulders. As soon as she had her fingers interlocked behind my neck, the first tear fell. I reached up to swipe it away just in time to catch another.

Four.

Three.

Two.

Her breath hitched, slamming me headfirst into reality. This was Layne’s first New Year’s kiss—at least her first one with someone she loved. And I knew, right then and there, this was only the first of many,
many
more midnight kisses for us.

One
.

Her lips met mine. Soft and gentle at first. A slow swipe of my tongue on her bottom lip. A small, heated breath escaping her. And then she opened for me, letting me in. Her tongue grazed mine, her fingers tightened on the back of my neck. My hands found their way into her hair.

While everyone cheered around us, oblivious to our moment together, our kisses turned fevered and hungry. Desperate. I didn’t want to let go, but at the same time, I wanted to whisk her away. I’d spent too many nights without her, and I had no desire to share her with a group of strangers. I wanted her all to myself.

Layne finally pulled away, but before I could say anything, my dad walked up to introduce himself. I grew impatient as he tried to make small talk—how was the drive, was she thirsty, did she want anything to eat. I appreciated his hospitality, but these were all things I could’ve asked had I been given the chance. I didn’t even know how she’d gotten here and he was asking about the drive as if they were old friends.

“Dad, if you don’t mind, I’m going to help Layne take her bag up to my room.”

“Your mom got the guestroom made up for her.”

I cocked my head at him, biting back my frustrations. When he wouldn’t budge, I stepped closer to him and turned away from Layne. I lowered my voice and said, “I’m in college, Dad. I have my own place. It’s not like I’ve never slept next to Layne there.”

“And that’s fine, son. What you do in your own place is up to you. But this is my house. My rules. Your mother made up the guestroom for her, and that’s where she’s expecting Layne to sleep. You already know it has its own bathroom and it’s separated from the rest of the house.” He slapped my shoulder and winked at me. “Your mother doesn’t want her staying in
your
room, Creed. Respect her wishes.”

I could always count on my dad to have my back. I got my knack for finding loopholes from him, and his cryptic suggestion left me shaking my head. I never wanted to be disrespectful to my parents, especially my mom, but at least my dad could understand how unreasonable it was to have Layne come all this way to sleep in a separate room.