Sharing food was one way we could use our mouths, but not my preferred way.
“When we’re done, wanna lay on the couch? And watch movies all day?”
“I haven’t done that in…ever,” she said.
“Always time for a first.”
Except, I forgot about her furniture.
“Your couch is too small for me, and I don’t look good in all this pink,” I declared as soon as I sank into the Pepto-Bismol-colored sofa. “Grab Smitty and your microwave popcorn. We’re going to my place.”
“You mean I get to hang on the leather sofa in front of your mega screen?”
She’d been over a few times for a quick drink or to run in and use the bathroom if we were grilling, but she hadn’t spent any significant time there. It always felt like she was more comfortable on her turf. I was changing that tonight.
“Let’s go, Richards.”
I figured this was a big step, leaving the ghosts of her failed marriage and Abby next door, where they belonged, and making new memories at my place.
A few hours later, Claire sat up from the couch, her hair messy, her eyes half closed, smile wide. “I can’t believe you talked me into this movie.”
“You loved it.”
“For like one second when he took his shirt off. I could’ve skipped everything else, especially that scene where they’re shooting at everyone in the street before their car explodes.”
“Yeah, yeah. You loved it. Especially on my TV in high-def. You don’t have that at your place.”
“Well, payback’s a bitch. My turn!”
“I think a new season of that show about the triplets who aren’t really triplets because one of them’s adopted is starting. You know the one that goes back and forth between the past and the present?”
“Mary’s mentioned it about a thousand times…my students too.”
“Want to check it out?”
“You’re just trying to avoid watching a rom-com. Well, I’ll tell you what, tough guy…I don’t like rom-coms. I’m more of a historical fiction gal. World War II flicks…sad and somber…are my jam.”
One corner of her mouth turned up in a smirk, and I smacked her with a cushion. “You had me there for a minute…come on, get close, we’ll watch this show. It’s romantic enough from what I hear.”
She lay back against me, her hair fanning over my shirt-covered chest, her back sinking into me.
“I like it here.”
Hearing those few words were like rinsing away a hot day of manual labor with a cold beer. I allowed them to wash over me.
“Me too,” was all I answered, for fear I’d suggest something too aggressive for Claire. I’d done that once already.
“I know we’re always at my place, but that’s because I’m attached to it. In what’s probably not a very healthy way. As you’ve pointed out.”
“It’s cool. It’s no big deal to me. You’re here now.” I remained nonchalant, despite my heart and brain doing acrobatics. This was no simple feat, considering I’d never experienced any of the above before.
“Do you think you’ll ever invite me to stay over?”
Since I wanted to see her, I flipped her over and hovered over her, my weight on my forearms. “It’s an open invitation.”
Forgetting the TV show, I lowered my lips to hers. She returned my passion, giving as good as she got. We kissed for a long while, our tongues exploring each other’s mouths, our lower halves seeking contact.
“Off,” Claire murmured while tugging at my shirt.
