Ned’s eyes light up, but then he frowns. “I’m not that soppy.”
“I am,” I say softly. “You could keep me company while I’m being soppy.”
Ned’s lips curl up into an amused smile. He likes that I am giving him an excuse to watch It’s A Wonderful Life. It is a flimsy pretense, we both know it. But we are both embracing it.
“Fine,” he says with a wry shake of his head.
I grin. Victory has never tasted sweeter.
A short while later, we are settled on the sofa with a huge bowl of popcorn, because I insisted that a movie night could not be complete without popcorn.
The lights are dim, and Ned is a few short inches away from me. I press play, and bite back my contented sigh. I never thought I’d ever be this happy again. There were many, many long and painful days where it did not seem possible. Yet, here I am. I think Jennifer would approve. She wouldn’t want me depressed and moping around the children for the rest of my life, if nothing else.
I’m not going to go with the cliche, ‘She’d want me to be happy,’ because I can’t possibly know that. My wifewas possessive. And had a flair for dramatics. She wouldn’t want to be forgotten, that’s for sure. And she would have loved people weeping over her grave.
I will mourn her forever. I could never forget her. That’s simply not possible. But the children and I cannot spend the rest of our lives in her shadow. She is at rest. It is time I found my peace.
“Are you okay?” asks Ned with a raised eyebrow.
A warm smile spreads across my face. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.”
Ned gives me a bemused look, but he doesn’t probe. He turns his attention to the film instead. Still smiling, I follow his lead.
We watch the first hour of the film in companionable silence. It’s comfortable and warm. Relaxing and soft.
But now there is a strange tingle of anticipation running up my spine. A shiver of excitement in the air. Something is about to happen. I just know it is.
Ned reaches for the popcorn that is on my lap. Playfully, I move it away from him. He flashes me a look of surprise that quickly turns into a grin. He tries to snatch the bowl, but I hold it out of his reach.
He laughs and dives for it, knocking me backwards and landing on top of me. I stare up at him as we both freeze. Popcorn rains down on us, but all I can really see is Ned’s heated and dark eyes.
There were reasons why I shouldn’t want him. I vaguely remember angsting over them. Right now, I can’t recall a single one. They can’t have been important. Ned is wonderful and I crave him with a passion that is intoxicating. Surely that is the only thing that matters?
Our lips are close, so very close. But I’m not going to close the distance between us. Given everything Ned has been through, consent is even more essential than usual.
I tilt my chin up and pucker my lips a little. I hope my eyes are saying that I’d very much like for him to kiss me. I’ll say it with words, when I can remember how to talk.
He is gazing into my eyes with a ferocious intensity. His cheeks are flushed. I watch, utterly hypnotized, as his very pink tongue pokes out and runs over his plump bottom lip.
He is a slender weight on top of me and my arms are itching to wrap around him and pull him even closer. I’m longing to run my hands all over his body.
He is staring at me as if he would like that too. His gaze drops down to my lips, then back up to my eyes. I am pretty sure he wants to kiss me.
“I’d really like you to kiss me,” I croak. There, I did it. I formed words. In the right order. It is a miracle.
Suddenly, his lips are on mine. Soft, tender. Passionate.
The popcorn bowl clangs on the floor as I drop it. My arms wrap around him, exactly as I was imagining. But this is real. It’s reality. It is really happening.
I’m kissing Ned.
He feels cold. I guess he is somebody who always feels the chill. I’ll have to remember to turn the thermostat up.
A groan pours out of me a whole second before I register that Ned has slipped his tongue into my mouth. Bright sparks of pleasure are dancing all over my body. My hands are sliding up and down his back. I glide up to his hair and down to skim over his ass. Then I find the edge of his tee shirt. My hand eases under it. The feel of his bare, smooth skin makes me groan again.
He whimpers softly into my mouth and presses himself even closer. His hips start to rock, grinding against me. I can feel his bulge, rubbing along my own, but there are far too many clothes between us for it to be satisfying.
Getting out of said clothes feels like an impossible puzzle. An insurmountable task. My head is spinning. My blood is on fire. I am arousal, lust and need. A creature no longer capable of rational thoughts.
