by Clark, Kaisa
He shifts his weight, the distance between us closing. Then his lips brush mine, the faintest whisper of a touch, the subtlest pressure against my mouth. It’s the softest kiss I’ve ever felt and yet it’s everything. It’s an explosion of the senses; it’s an awakening of my soul.
PART II – The Summer
Chapter 9
I have never in my life been so excited to go to work. All morning long I count the minutes until I can start getting ready, thinking of Adam all the while. To distract myself I dawdle in the shower, meticulously lathering and rinsing and scrubbing. I smooth lotion onto my skin and take my time applying my makeup, carefully lining my eyes and swiping on mascara. When I can no longer stand it I grab my keys and take the long route to the restaurant, turning my music up loud and belting out the lyrics to every song on my More Than Friends playlist. I still arrive thirty minutes before my shift is scheduled to start.
Nerves overtake my stomach as I approach the building. We haven’t worked a shift together since we took that first drive. With last night’s kiss still singing through me, I am nervous and gleeful and so excited to see him again. I heave the door open and quickly scan the dining room. His back is to me but I’d know him anywhere. I hang back, watching him. He radiates confidence in the way he talks, in the way he moves. I could gaze at him all day. He’s still talking with his table when he casually glances over his shoulder and his eyes meet mine. I watch the recognition pass over his face, the edges of his mouth turning up, his eyes softening.
He quickly finishes with the table and saunters over to me. He stops mere inches in front of me, positively beaming. I don’t think I’ve ever seen his smile wider or more full of light. I want so badly to feel his lips on mine again, to savor their sultry sweetness, and I lightly lick my own at the thought.
“Hi, Adam,” I say brightly. I know I’m radiating joy, absolutely pulsing with the elation I feel every time I’m near him. The bustle of the restaurant fades to a distant hum, like the whole world has fallen away and it’s just the two of us, completely absorbed in this moment. I cannot stop smiling.
“Lex,” he breathes. He brushes his fingers against my own, setting my whole body off. He must see the longing reflected in my eyes because he bites his bottom lip. “If I didn’t know better I’d think you came in early to see me.”
I narrow my eyes in an attempt at scrutiny, but my continuous grinning detracts from the effect. “And if I didn’t know better I’d think you’ve been checking my schedule.”
He gives a serious nod. “It’s quite convenient having your name so close to mine alphabetically.”
Over Adam’s shoulder, I catch sight of Jim marching down the line, the usual frown stretched across his face. I give Adam’s hand a tight squeeze before heading in the opposite direction to find my section for the night.
It’s a matter of seconds before Annabelle charges up to me at the host stand, her face resolute.
“Okay, something’s going on. You’re both giddy as schoolgirls, walking around with these stupid grins plastered on your faces. What happened?”
I avert my eyes, suddenly fascinated with the floor chart. Naturally the grin is still there. I couldn’t contain this beast of a smile even if I tried.
“This is not the face of someone in the friend zone. Did he kiss you?”
When I don’t respond she lets out a satisfied squeal. “Damn I’m good! How was it? Perfect I’m guessing?” Her voice is dreamy as she says the last part, like she’s never been kissed in that way, the all-encompassing, you’re all I can think/breathe/dream about kind of way.
I lean my head against her shoulder, beaming ear to ear, and sigh contentedly, “He’s so amazing Annabelle. He’s just so damn wonderful.”
I try to go about my shift carrying on as normal, but nothing about me feels normal. I feel changed, like his kiss awakened some deeper desire inside me that’s been aching to get out. My psyche is pushing me to get closer, to be near to him any way possible. I see his smile and I want to smile right along with him, I hear his laugh and I want to laugh right along with him, never mind when his eyes meet mine and he licks his lips and I know I can’t do a single thing about it because we’re at work.
I’m traipsing through his section en route to my own in a roundabout I-don’t-belong-over-here-at-all-but-just-want-to-pass-by-you type of way. He’s talking with one of his tables – a couple out to eat with their young son. My ears perk up, delighting in the sound of his voice, the most pleasant sound I know. I can’t help noticing that when he talks to the little boy his tone is softer, lighter. He doesn’t talk down to him, just has a reverence in his vocalization that isn’t usually there. I wonder how he learned to talk to kids; it’s the last thing I would’ve expected from him. But then again, Adam seems to be full of surprises.
We’re passing on the line a few minutes later when he casually drops a folded piece of paper into the front pocket of my apron. I fish it from the mess of chocolates and loose change filling the pocket. His handwriting covers the scrap in sharp, upright lines.
Freezer. 5 minutes. It will be “O.K.”
I love his secretive approach. I love that he wrote me a note like our rendezvous is some covert operation. I love that he said it would be “O.K.” because it lets me know he thinks it will be anything other than just okay. I love that he feels it too.
When I tug the heavy freezer door open Adam is there, anticipation written all over his face. It’s in the brightness of his eyes. It’s in the eagerness of his smile. His arms encase my torso, his chest rising and falling against mine as he firmly kisses my lips. I grasp his face with both hands and thrust my body closer to his, always closer. He drags his tongue along my lower lip, my stomach clenching, my pulse racing at the touch. When he pulls back he’s grinning ear to ear.
“I couldn’t stare at you all night and not do that at least once.” He winks at me then disappears through the door.
I stand there in awe, feeling like I’m melting to the floor despite the cold air flowing all around me. My whole body is entirely saturated with contentment. Sure, it’s his kiss, but it is so much more. It’s his warmth and his levity and how he brings out the best version of me I know. My heart feels as though it might burst right out of my chest from the sheer adoration I feel for him.
When I’m sure I’ve given him enough of a head start, I step back out into the kitchen, feeling weightless, feeling enthralled. A night at the restaurant has never flown by so fast or been this much fun.
Annabelle invites a few people over to her apartment for drinks after work. She doesn’t say so, but I know she’s doing it so Adam has an alternative to Brittney’s “get together” she so casually invited him to the day at the pool. I’m barely through the door before he’s placing his hands on either side of my face and leaning in to kiss me. It’s soft and slow and everything I’ve wanted since our freezer encounter. A few of our coworkers eye us, but no one looks surprised. When he reaches for my hand and tugs me from the room, I follow contentedly, a tranquil smile stretched across my face.
Once in the seclusion of Annabelle’s kitchen, Adam leans against the counter and pulls me to him by my belt loops, and for the first time in my life I don't question or second-guess if I’m being too forward. My arms just float around his neck. My chest connects with his. It feels so right – being this close – like this is where we were always meant to be, his gravity pulling me in.
He tips his forehead to mine and looks into my eyes with a depth I haven’t seen before. The sincerity of his gaze resonates within me, makes me smile. As though it’s contagious, he breaks into a wide grin.
“What’re you smiling at?” I josh.
“It’s just my favorite whenever I’m with you.” He plants a firm kiss on my forehead then asks, “So what do you want to drink?”
“I guess now is probably a good time to admit I’m not really a beer girl.”
“Why am I not surprised?” he asks with a glint in his eyes. He turns t
o survey the alcohol bottles cluttering the countertop. His fingers rotate each bottle until he finally decides on raspberry Bacardi, mixing it with Sprite and a splash of grenadine.
“I think you’ll like this,” he says, handing a red plastic cup to me.
I take a sip. The drink is perfect. He is perfect.
“I see bartending in your future, Mr. Westbrook.”
He laughs and kisses my temple. “Glad I learned at least one thing in college.”
He bends to retrieve two fresh beers from the refrigerator, cradling them in his left hand before taking my hand in his right. We pass by Damien so Adam can hand one off then he settles me onto his lap on the couch. I lean back against his chest and he trails his fingertips against mine. I can feel his breath tickling my shoulder, the occasional graze of his lips against my skin, burning through me. The others chat and laugh and joke but all I can think of is him. I can hardly follow the conversation with Adam seemingly bent on distracting me.
“Geez, Annabelle, why is it so effing hot in here?” Damien groans.
Here I’d been thinking it was just me burning up from Adam’s touch.
“Something must be wrong with my AC.” She rises to pull open the French doors to her balcony and flips the ceiling fan on. It does little to dissipate the heat and the group beings to thin.
Damien looks at the time and then over at Adam. “Shit, man. I gotta run. I’m on first thing tomorrow. Can you take me home?”
I silently curse him for riding here with Adam but move to the side so Adam can rise off the couch. He’s reaching for his keys on the coffee table when Annabelle springs up. “I’ll take you, Damien. You know, since your house probably isn’t on the way for Adam.” I know she’s BS-ing. She has no clue where Adam lives and neither do I.
Damien shrugs apathetically and claps hands with Adam, nods to me, then heads for the door. Annabelle follows close behind but makes sure to catch my eye before passing through the door, animatedly mouthing, “Have fun” as she pulls it shut.
The second we’re alone, Adam and I lurch for each other. In an instant I’m on top of him, one leg on either side of each of his. Warm fingers clutch my neck, skim over my chest, trace lines beneath my tank top. It’s all I can do to breathe. His tongue caresses mine, darting in and out my mouth, his lips slick against my own. We kiss deep and furious, like neither one of us could possibly take one more second without our mouths touching.
The heat in the apartment feels as though it’s increased tenfold since Annabelle left. Adam pulls his shirt up over his head, revealing tan skin that lightly glistens with sweat. I draw my fingers down his thick triceps and lean in to kiss along his collarbone, relishing the saltiness on my lips. I make my way up his neck and gently tug on his earlobe with my teeth. A low, guttural groan escapes his lips and I feel his hand slide up the back of my neck. He tugs my hair so my mouth finds his again and he massages his tongue against mine, pressing into me with urgency, his hands singing over my skin, lifting the hem of my tank top up. He carefully hauls it over my head and tosses it over the back of the couch, his eyes flicking over me, taking me in. He makes swift work of removing my bra, then bends to plant soft kisses over my exposed neck and chest, lips barely grazing over skin as he goes. I tip my head back, letting his touch completely take me away, feeling radiant, feeling bold, feeling completely intoxicated with everything he is.
Adam’s fingers are unfastening the button on my shorts when Annabelle begins fumbling noisily for her keys in the hallway outside the door. She’s practically yelling, “I wish I could find my keys,” as she jangles her purse around, clanging the metal clasps against the doorknob.
Adam swiftly pulls me down beside him on the couch and manages to tug a blanket over us before she walks in. Without a word, we both pretend to be asleep as she enters the apartment and heads back to her room. I doubt we fool her, especially with his shirt and my bra discarded on the back of the couch.
Adam’s muscular chest is pressed up against the bare skin of my back, his breath swirling around my neck, still coming in quick bursts. When her door clicks shut, his strong arms clench tighter around me and I shift into him so my head is resting on his chest. Smiling eyes look down at me and he brushes my forehead with his lips before nuzzling closer to me. Our breathing begins to steady and I find myself drifting towards sleep, ensconced in Adam’s arms and feeling more content than ever.
When my eyes blink open the sun is peaking over the horizon, sending the first rays of sunlight cascading into Annabelle’s living room. Adam still has me clutched against his chest and I can’t help but notice how peaceful he looks. His face has an expression of perfect calm, his dark lashes splayed out beneath his eyelids, his thick hair slightly rumpled.
“Hey,” I whisper and kiss his cheek tenderly.
“Mmmm,” he murmurs, nuzzling his lips against my temple.
“It’s almost morning, Adam. We should go.”
He mumbles into my ear, “Can I come with you? I don’t want to go back to my empty house.”
I can’t decide whether he’s telling the truth or using this as an excuse to come over, but don’t really care either way. The entire drive back to my apartment I steal glances in the rearview mirror, thrilled at the knowledge Adam is coming home with me. He parks beside me and sleepily drapes an arm around my waist as we traipse up the steps to my door. I can’t help but notice how natural it feels to be this close, our two bodies fitted together, like this is the way we were always supposed to be.
When I wake a few hours later, the first thing I see is Adam’s face propped on his outstretched arm, watching me. His lips rearrange into a slight smile. “Hey, blue eyes.”
Rolling onto my side, I mimic his pose. My eyes rove over him, relishing the sight of him wrapped in my bed sheets, of my pillow beneath his skin. When I think where we were a week ago, how excited I was by the surprise of seeing him at the pool, I’m astounded. It feels like for once in my life, I completely skipped the middle, slingshotting from just friends to so much more.
“Hey,” I reply softly.
Every ounce of elation I feel seeps into the delivery of that one simple word.
“I noticed something while you were sleeping.”
“What’s that?”
“Well you’re gorgeous,” he chuckles. “So maybe two things.”
He extends a hand to where my tank top has moved askew and lightly fingers a flat, brown mole on the center of my chest, a speck of darkened pigment right above my heart. He’s grinning now, a full-blown smile, his fingertips still grazing the spot on my chest, and that’s when I notice he has one in the exact same place. With how he’s laying in front me, they line up perfectly. I reach out, brushing my fingers over the small fleck nestled between his pecs.
“Huh,” I whisper, surprised by the odd congruence. I know it’s coincidence. It means nothing really. And yet it makes perfect sense that he would be marked for me. It makes perfect sense that our bodies were formed with one another in mind. His personality completely aligns with mine, why wouldn’t his body be the same?
“Huh,” he repeats, still grinning that wide, satisfied smile.
He closes the distance between us excruciatingly slowly, his lips finally finding mine. I let out a contented sigh and press my body closer to his, our matching moles aligning between us. His arms circle around me, folding me into his body. I feel so snug clutched in his arms, so safe, so sure.
In one smooth motion he rolls over me, bracing himself above me with his arms. I snake my hands up, winding my fingers into his hair. I’m reminded of the comment I made to Annabelle that first day he came back. Little did I know how amazing it would actually feel, how much more it would be than just pulling hair when it finally happened.
Despite him being spread out over every inch of me, I feel the ferocious need to be closer, to be as close to him as humanly possible. His hands glide over my body, removing the last remains of clothing until there’s nothing left between us. Only us.
His body works over mine, his scent and his sounds melding with my breath and my need. Every exhale of my name from his lips floats just above the pillowcases, swirling around my head, making me dizzy and weak. I feel him melting deep inside me, turning every last inch of me to silk, turning me to gold. And I swear he is perfect. I swear we were meant to be together. Just like this. Bodies perfectly aligned, skin brushing soft skin, chests inhaling and exhaling in complete harmony, until I’m floating, sinking, soaring all at once, with Adam’s voice in my ear and his taste in my mouth.
We relax against the multitude of pillows on my bed, sheets tucked haphazardly around us. I nuzzle my cheek against his shoulder, contentment washing over me as his fingertips draw faint lines up and down the length of my back.
“You have no idea how long I’ve thought of this,” he whispers.
“What’re you talking about?” I ask with astonishment.
“Don’t act so surprised. I’ve had it bad for you for a very long time.” He lets out a faint chuckle, but the look he’s giving me lets me know he’s completely serious.
I’m blown away by his admission. All this time. All this flirting. It was always real. I feel giddy with the knowledge, completely overcome. I poke his side, grinning. “Well it took you long enough."
‘Yes,” he concedes, amused. “I had to work up the nerve.”
“Work up the nerve? I pegged you as a seasoned veteran.” The thought that Adam Westbrook would have to work up the nerve to talk to anyone takes me by surprise. Never once has he given any indication he’s anything less than completely confident and sure of himself.
“This whole time?” I ask in disbelief, winding my fingers in his, loving that I can. “I always thought you were just being friendly.”
