“Okay. Maybe I’ll surprise you with dinner again.”
“I’d like that.”
Instead, when I bring her dinner it turns out that she’s closing by herself so I just hang out at the store with her until it’s time for her to close. She looks tired and I mention it once we’re hanging out in my room.
“Between my mom and Charlie being sick, I haven’t been getting enough sleep,” she admits. “And I’ve been trying to help around the house a little more.”
“Why isn’t Ivy doing that?” I ask carefully.
She rolls her eyes. “Ivy seems to get a pass on all things because she’s a single mom. Dad initially was mad that she was going to real estate school but now he’s been asking her how it’s going, how long until she can take the test. All of it. It’s frustrating.”
“And you’re picking up the slack.” I gently nudge her. “Turn over. I’m going to give you a massage.”
“What?” She glances at me in confusion, like she doesn’t understand.
“Turn. Over. And take off your top.”
She pulls her T-shirt over her head and then flops onto her stomach.
God, I love her body. Her skin. How it feels to touch her. And even though I’m probably going to be hard as granite by the time I’m done, this isn’t about sex. It doesn’t seem like anyone in her life takes care of her, and if I can be the one person that does, I hope it shows her just how much I care.
It hasn’t been long but the feelings between us are growing exponentially. In some ways, this was inevitable. Now that it’s happening, I don’t want to screw it up. And I want to make sure she understands how important she is to me. We were all about the love and romance the first time around, but I don’t know that my actions reflected my words. This time, I’m trying to do better.
I stare at her for a few seconds and then reach out to unhook her bra. I don’t take it off, just let it move to the side so I can press my fingers into her back. I start gently, running my hands over her skin, watching with satisfaction as goosebumps break out all over her flesh. Using the heel of my palm, I drag it down the bumps of her spine, listening to a few pops that make her sigh.
“Oh, that feels amazing,” she whispers.
“Just relax,” I say.
I use my thumbs to dig into the area inside her shoulder blades, up to the back of her neck, and then across the curve of her shoulders. I knead and squeeze her tight muscles, occasionally digging my knuckles into knots, but keeping my touch light so it’s not painful. She needs to rest more than she needs loose muscles.
Her breathing evens out and after about ten minutes, I realize she’s fast asleep.
She must be exhausted, and I don’t want to wake her. I can let her sleep for an hour or two and then wake her up.
I shift so I’m on my back, propped against some pillows, and then I pull her against my chest. She stirs for a moment, blinking up at me sleepily, and I smile.
“Rest. I’ll wake you up in an hour or two.”
“Mmkay.” She goes back to sleep and I sit there stroking her hair.
This could be our life if we were together.
Going to sleep together. Waking up together. Being together.
No sneaking around, no lies, just a normal couple.
The only question is whether or not we’re ready for this. It feels like we should be. We were together about eight months the first time, and it’s been just over a month now. All told, less than a year. That’s the reason I haven’t pushed it even though it’s what I want.
I don’t think Jude and Chloe would mind if she moved in until the end of the season, and then once we get to summer, she and I would get serious about buying a house of our own. I’d hoped to save up for another year but I have a nice nest egg already. If I need to take on a small mortgage, that won’t be a problem.
My only reservation is that Victoria seems to be holding back. I know she worries about how her parents are going to react, and I’m not sure how to fix that. I can ask to meet with her dad, talk to him about how I feel about her, but she said it’s too soon.
So now we’re in limbo.
I don’t want to rush her, but it feels like I’ve waited four years for us to find our way back to each other. What’s the point of taking things this slowly? Wouldn’t it be better to spend as much time together as possible?
Maybe I’m just impatient.
