I wriggled under the covers, trying to get comfortable, the texture of the sheets chafing my bare legs.
“Do you want me to kiss you?” Joe asked.
Yes.“Only if you want to.”
His gravelly laugh scraped something deep inside me. The mattress springs squeaked under his weight as he turned and raised himself over me. His head bent over mine. His bighand pushed back my hair, cradling the side of my face. His palms were slightly calloused, his breath warm, his beard rough. Softly, he kissed my forehead, my nose, my cheek and—finally! finally!—my mouth. Gently. No tongue, only lips and breath and warmth. My brain went blessedly quiet as I sank into the moment, feeling, not thinking, absorbing his flavor, mint toothpaste and Joe.Heaven.His hand hovered at the side of my breast. Stopped.
He rolled away, but not before I felt it, felt him, a hot brush, a press against my thigh. “Good night,” he said in a husky voice.
I sighed, at once revved up and relaxed, reluctant to let the kiss and the moment go. “Did I make things weird?”
His chest surged. “Not weird. Just…”
“Hard?” I suggested.
“Go to sleep, Anne,” he said firmly, but amusement shook his voice.
I grinned, relieved, turning on my side toward him. He’d rested one forearm across his brow, watching me from under its shadow, but I could see him smiling, even in the dark. I waggled my eyebrows. He shook his head. For some reason, we both started laughing, silently, and the more we tried to stop, the worse it got, until I was snorting and the bed creaked with our suppressed hilarity.
“Can you keep it down?” Kelsey yelled from her bedroom.
We froze like guilty children caught playing with the lights out, and then I snickered. “Can you?”
Which set us off again, the awkwardness dissolving into laughter. When we stopped, the tension was transmuted, the silence no less full but infinitely deeper.
“Good night,” I whispered.
I’d always thought I knew exactly what I wanted. I’d seen my path shining straight and unbroken in front of me. But what if I’d been wrong about my destination all along?
Why couldn’t I simply accept where I was? Why was I still yearning? Not for the island, not for Chicago or Colorado or Paris, but for someplace I’d only visited in dreams or between the pages of a book. My Neverland. My Narnia. The place where I would, at last, belong.
20
Anne
Kelsey nodded at the phonevibrating on the kitchen counter. “Yours?”
“Oh, yeah, right. Thanks.” I grabbed my phone. (Now fully charged, thank you, Joe.) “It’s probably just…”
Chris.My breath stuttered.
Let me buy you brunch. OPH 11?
I stared at his message, memories unspooling in my brain. Because that had been our thing, golden Sunday mornings spent entwined in bed, followed by walks to the Original Pancake House for giant cinnamon-apple pancakes. Once upon a time…
Another bubble popped on the screen.
Chris: You came all this way IOU
“Everything all right?” Kelsey asked.
“What? Oh. Fine,” I said.
IOU.Owed me what? What was he offering now that the weekend’s scheduled events were over? Now that it was justthe two of us? Pancakes? An apology? An explanation? Closure?
What did I owe him after goodbye?
The back door opened. Joe, returning from securing the lumber on the truck. “All set?”
