Her legs backed into the couch. Jack pulled away and looked at her. The streetlights cast a dim glow into the room, just enough to see his features.
“This is fast,” he said. “Too fast?”
Stella pressed her lips together and tried to gather a response, but all she could think was how life-giving, soul-soaring it was tobe kissed by him. Kissing Jack might not be the best decision, with him leaving soon, but now that she’d been close to him, she craved more. “I don’t know,” she said quietly.
His arms rested around her waist, and he slid one hand up to her neck and then to her cheek. “I can tell you good night. I’ve seen you to Arnie’s safely.”
She still felt the imprint of his lips pressing against hers. “I don’t want you to go.”
His hand warmed her skin. “I don’t have to.”
“Then don’t,” Stella said, surprised at her boldness.
Jack kissed her again. He guided their bodies down toward the couch. When Stella sat on the cushion, she hesitated and pushed them back to standing.
“We can’t,” she said.
Jack tensed in her arms. “Okay.” He released his hold on her and took a step back.
Stella wrapped her arms around his waist. “No, I mean, we can’t get on Arnie’s couch. It’s leather, and we’re soaking wet.”
His shoulders relaxed, and he chuckled. He pressed kisses up the side of her neck. “We have a few options.”
Stella’s eyes closed, and she leaned her head to the side to give him easier access to the sensitive skin on her neck. She slid her hands up his chest and sighed. “I’m interested in hearing them.”
“There’s the floor,” he said, kissing along her jawline. “There’s Arnie’s room, but that seems inappropriate.” He kissed her cheek. “There’s the couch, but we’d have to lose the wet clothes. Your choice.” He kissed her lips.
Stella’s whole body quivered.Is this really happening?Then anxiety clawed at her—a bitter, familiar warning—but she forced her thoughts into the present with Jack. She wanted to enjoy this moment. Let her excitement soar. Give herself permission to feellight and blissful—emotions no longer foreign. The desire to let go and be reckless overtook her. She’d been playing it safe and disconnected for months, perhaps even years. But now she didn’t want to detach herself from the hot ache searing through her body. She didn’t want to push Jack away.
She lifted one side of his T-shirt and touched his bare skin. He watched her, and his mouth tugged up on one side, causing Stella’s heart to thump.
“I like your choice,” he said and reached for a button on her blouse, easily undoing it.
Then Jack kissed her so deeply that she fisted her hands in his shirt and held on.
Friday morning Stella opened her eyes to 1940s music playing at low volume. She inhaled the scent of coffee and bacon cooking. Pushing up on one elbow, she glanced toward the kitchen where Jack was moving around. Was he cooking breakfast?
Discarded shoes and clothes were scattered across the floor. A Jimmy Dorsey record spun on Arnie’s record player in the corner. Stella wore a white undershirt she’d pilfered from Arnie’s dresser drawer. The shirt was too big for her but only fell to mid-thigh. She reached for the blanket and pulled it up to her waist, covering her bare legs. Sunlight drenched the living room with pale summer light. As her mind fully awoke, she replayed last night in her mind, and her body tingled with the memory.
“Good morning,” Jack said.
She repositioned herself on the couch so she could see him. “Hey.”
“Hungry?” he asked. “I made eggs and bacon. Biscuits are almostready. Want coffee? Arnie doesn’t have creamer, but there’s plenty of sugar. I know you like yours sweet.”
Jack stood in the kitchen wearing boxer shorts and nothing else. As if that wasn’t the most distracting sight she’d ever seen. A cowlick at the back of his head caused his dark hair to stick up in one spot, which was completely adorable. Stella stared at his physique for a few seconds before answering.
“This feels like a dream,” she said. He’d woken up and made breakfast. For her.
Jack grinned and returned to the stove. “‘All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.’”
“You read Poe?” Stella asked.
“I’ve had a lot of time,” Jack said. “If this is a dream, I’d prefer to stay asleep. Don’t wake me up, okay?” He leaned over to glance at the biscuits through the glass oven door. “But being here with you feels like I’m truly awake, and the rest of my life has been a dream.”
Stella stared down at her lap before getting up off the couch. “Be right back.” She went to the bathroom and searched through Arnie’s cabinets until she found an unopened toothbrush so she could brush her teeth. Then she wet her hair and combed her fingers through her tangled curls. In the bedroom she found a pen on Arnie’s side table and used it to pin her hair up in a messy bun. When she walked out, Jack stood in the kitchen, holding a mug of coffee for her. She self-consciously pulled at the T-shirt, trying to tug it lower.
“You’re a real dish, you know that?” he said sweetly.
