“Liar.”
“You don’t have to worry about your BO. I’m used to it by now.”
He gasps. “Usedto it? Jamie, that’s the rudest thing you could ever say to me.”
“I’m pretty sure I could say ruder. Like you’re not very funny—”
“Well, that would be a lie, I’m delightfully irreverent.”
“You have no style or sense of fashion.” I’m setting him up for a joke I know he’s going to hit without a pause, and it’s nice to have this silly banter again. To be able to joke around and quote movies—movies I’ve never seen, of course, only heard him tell. But it feels normal, being on the road. And right now it’s just the two of us.
Andrew takes the cue. “I think that depends on—”
“No, no. That wasn’t a question.”
Andrew laughs loudly and drops the plastic water jugs, then he pulls me close and kisses me. I can’t remember the last time we kissed like this. Not just a peck on the cheek or a good-night kiss. An open-mouthed, I-missed-this-did-you-miss-this-too? kiss. My heart races, and though I can’t feel his, I know it’s matching pace with mine.
“You haven’t even seen that movie.” His voice is lower, as if he’s also overwhelmed by the way we’re holding each other.
“No, but I’ve heard you tell it so many times it’s seared into my brain now.”
“Yes, Meryl has that effect.” He kisses me again, his face lingering near mine. “Still used to my BO?”
“Yes.”
“But not into it?”
“That’s not what I said.” I drop my own water jugs on the dock and reach down to his legs, lifting him up against me. Our mouths open, our lips magnetic, breathing each other in. He wraps his legs around my waist, and I slide my hand up the back of his shirt.
How long has it been? Weeks. Weeks without a moment of privacy. Without worry and fear and death. But somehow all that’s gone because right now it’s just us, the soft lapping of water against the dock piling, and the cool breeze through trees thick with Spanish moss.
I lower us slowly onto the dock, but Andrew’s legs stay tight around me. I peel off his shirt, his skin glowing in the setting sun, and put my face against his solar plexus, breathing him in. Not an odor, just the natural way he smells. I want to pull him into my skin and carry him with me and feel him on me all the time. Nowthiswe haven’t done in well over a month. Not since he was kicked off the boat and I was ready to leave the Keys then and there. With him.
ThisI absolutely missed.
He pulls me out of the thought, holding my face in his hands. He looks into my eyes, deadly serious.
“I want you to” is all he says. “I don’t care what we don’t have, Ijust... I want you.” He kisses me. “Need.”
My mouth goes dry and my heart races because... I want to, too. But I shake my head. “We can’t.”
“Yes.” He kisses me, talking between kisses as his hands dip below the waist of my jeans. Holding me tight. “We can. We’ll just. Go slow. It’s not ideal. But I’m sure historically people have made it work.”
“Andrew—”
“If it worked for Jake Gyllenhaal inBrokeback Mountain, I’m sure we’ll be fine.”
I laugh against his lips. “It’s not that.” I pull away and look into his eyes. I want him to see that Iwantto. I mean, obviously he at least feels that because of where his hand is.
But I want him to understand.
“I... I don’t want it to be... quick.” I laugh. “I mean, let’s be real, it’s probably going to be.”
Andrew laughs, too. “Oh, totally. I’d say you’ve got about twenty seconds with me.”
“No, I mean... I don’t want it to be rushed. And this is rushed. We’ll be rushed if we do it now.”
“Who cares?” He laughs again.
