It startled me when he put his hand on my waist and pulled me down, both forceful and gentle enough to cradle me across his lap. Sitting across him excited me, but it was so intimate and I worried I was heavy, despite knowing I was in great shape. Rhys’ right hand gripped me possessively on my hip, as if making sure I couldn’t escape. But I wouldn’t have dared to separate myself from him. His other hand was tugging at my jacket string, reminding us both that it was what initiated our desire-filled evening.
I knew he was content with me in it, and even if he hadn’t told me, it was obvious in the way he kissed me. The manner in which our mouths wrestled, some movements aggressive, others sweet and soft, made me realize I’d been missing out. Rhys was an amazing kisser and had really been holding back to keep me comfortable.
Moments into the kiss I was brought out of my daze when I felt movement below me, and I was simultaneously mortified and stimulated when I figured out what it was. He had been so absorbed by our make-out he hadn’t realized that I could feel his arousal as I sat on his lap. I didn’t know whether to say something or not, but it was all I could think about as he continued kissing me. I giggled against his lips and had to pull away from him quickly, distancing myself like some immature teenager as I continued laughing nervously.
“What’s wrong?” he asked breathlessly. His lips were red and I could only imagine what my cheeks looked like from his goatee scraping me, and my blush.
“Nothing,” I said, unable to hide the grin frozen on my face. I just stared at him, covering my mouth with my hand as I tried to figure out a way to avoid embarrassing him.
He shook his head and looked around the room in confusion and then habitually pulled at his pants. I saw the second he became aware of the tightness in his groin area and figured out the problem. Rhys put his hand to his forehead and then quickly tugged at his curls before covering his eyes. “Oh Christ, I’m so sorry!” he shouted.
I chuckled again till I realized how disgraced he was; he wouldn’t look at me. I approached him and slowly peeled his hand off his face, revealing his stormy blue eyes that were so innocently flustered. Kneeling down beside him I looked up and said, “Don’t be. It was just unexpected. I guess I’m twenty-seven on the outside and fourteen on the inside. It made me nervous for a second.” His eyes flinched. “But in a good way,” I added.
“Ellie, I feel so bad,” he laughed, but it wasn’t jovial.
“Please don’t.”
He didn’t take my word for it so I sat back down on him and cupped his jaw in my hands, my fingers lightly brushing his sharp, gorgeous cheekbones. And then I kissed him again, slower that time, seductively, but most of all tenderly as if to tell him with my lips that it really was okay. It was disappointing when he hesitated for a moment, but after a few seconds he came back to life and returned my affections. This was the only way he would believe me, the only way he could move forward.
Rhys kept his eyes shut tightly the entire time, but pushed the kiss into stronger territory as if he needed it; he needed to prove to himself that it was fine, that I didn’t mind. After a few minutes I stopped the kiss to catch my breath and saw his eyes still closed. Hoping to ease his stress, I said, “It’s okay. You obviously like me and we were making out…I think it would bother me more if it didn’t happen.”
His laughter healed everything: my fear that he’d hold back, his hesitation, and his embarrassment. He leaned his head on my shoulder and shook it, too shy to look at me when he confessed, “That’s not going to be a problem, gorgeous.”
I laughed against his jaw and kissed it once. When he calmed down and realized I wasn’t freaked out, we started cleaning the table. Rhys insisted on washing the dishes since I’d cooked, hints of humiliation appearing each time his eyes met mine. I shouldn’t have brought attention to it, I regretted that, but it was impossible to ignore and it had been a while since I was in that kind of situation; I’d obviously regressed back to high school. After he finished the last dish and I placed my arms around his waist as he dried his hands.
“Turn around Rhys,” I whispered and he obliged. “You’re not going to be weird about this, right? I’m the one who felt it and I’m not being weird.”
“I know,” he shook his head that was hanging lower than usual. “I just feel terrible I put you in that position.”
“I don’t. I’ve had a nice time with you tonight… so what, you got turned on, I felt it, let’s move on.” He wouldn’t budge, his eyes still heavy and I could tell he thought he had gone too far. “Besides,” I added, “if it happens again it’s not a big deal.” Still nothing from him. I tilted my head, “Well, I mean it is a big deal,” I winked. And only then did he finally smirk.
Piercing my eyes with his made me desperate to read his thoughts. Thankfully he didn’t keep me guessing for long. His index finger brushed my cheek, “You’re something else, you know?”
I shrugged, playfully, “Obviously.” I glanced at his pants and he shoved me as his laughter snuck up and escaped his mouth. I caught it with mine and planned on never letting him go.
∞
Early in the week my school schedule and the play kept us apart. We had made plans to get together after my courses on Thursday and I was looking forward to it. Unfortunately, I had barely made it through work that day, completely exhausted and drained from the first two weeks of class. It wasn’t uncommon for the start of a semester to knock me down, and even my students had noticed as I continually cleared my throat and coughed throughout my lecture. I felt so under the weather. Opting out of my usual walk home and took the Tube just to get there faster. I texted Rhys on the way home.
Me: Can we postpone till tomorrow? I’m really tired.
Rhys: Of course, is everything okay?
Me: Yeah, sweetheart. Just exhausted.
He didn’t question, but I had never canceled on him, and I couldn’t help wondering if he believed me. Friday was much worse. I woke up congested, and my throat was raw as if I’d swallowed chalky pills without water. My fever was so uncomfortably high, it caused me to burrow into his jacket in hopes of warding off the chills that came with it. I sat in the bed for over an hour, lacking the energy to move, to shower, even to check my phone. My alarm clock read 11:00 a.m. and I was amazed to see how late I had slept in considering I woke multiple times in coughing fits.
When I finally checked my phone, I saw I had two missed calls and a voicemail from Rhys. He called after the show, but I must have been asleep. Instead of calling him back, I texted him so he wouldn’t hear how crappy I sounded.
Me: Hey, I don’t think I can meet today either. I’m pretty sick and don’t see myself leaving the flat this weekend.
Seconds after pressing send, my phone rang.
“What’s wrong?”
I tried my best to alter my voice, to push through the rasp, but as soon as I opened my mouth I failed. “Nothing, it progressed over night.”
“Aw, Ellie. Don’t worry about lunch. Do you need anything?”
I had a coughing attack before I could answer. “No, I think I just need to rest.”
“Well, I’ll call later to check on you.”
“Okay, thanks.”
The conversation felt abrupt. Rhys normally doted on me and it was disappointing to notice the void and to see that I expected it. It was probably nothing, but it left me morose in addition to my cold. I laid down the majority of the day, periodically switching from my bed to the couch in an effort to move around. By the evening, I had napped three times and watched four movies, none of them to the end.
My hair was greasy and bunched atop my head with stray curls escaping around my neck. My face was worse; sullen and pale, and the skin near my nose was chapped from blowing it too many times. I looked awful, but I didn’t do anything to fix it. I really wished I had when I heard a knock at my door. Looking through the peephole I saw it was Rhys. He saw my shadow beneath the door and looked up at the view hole. “Ellie, let me in.”
I sighed,
banging my head on the door slightly. “Rhys…you shouldn’t be here. You’ll catch this and you can’t miss the show.”
“Nonsense. I have an impeccable immune system. Open up, I brought you soup and medicine.”
“Damn it,” I mumbled to myself. He really was perfect, and he’d brought me everything I had been too lazy to get. And I was starving.
I opened the door just a crack so that he could see my eyes and asked him to give me a minute to clean and cover up, but he pushed the door and said, “Let me take care of you.”
I didn’t have the energy to fight him, so I let him in and crossed my arms over my bra-less chest, only to remember I was wearing banana printed pajama bottoms. Closing his jacket up so he wouldn’t see me in my camisole and said, “Rhys, I don’t like you seeing me like this.”
He shook his head ignoring me, looking me up and down. His gaze was pitiful, but not in the way I expected. Rhys wasn’t concerned with how I looked, but how I felt. “Darling, are you okay?” he said softly.
I shrugged my shoulders and sniffled. To my surprise he smiled broadly. “You’re still pretty adorable,” he nodded, hugging me and kissing my forehead. “I’m going to heat the soup. Go sit.”
The broth felt perfect on my throat and the steam helped clear my sinuses. “Thank you,” I offered between sips of soup and he just watched me eat, affectionately rubbing my back with his hand. Completely satisfied, I curled up into a ball against my couch and he leaned back as well.
“I’m sorry you feel so crummy.” He paused, contemplating whether or not to continue. “I was worried I’d done something wrong, that you were avoiding me.”
“Why? Things are perfect,” I whispered, still straining my throat.
“I don’t know. I thought perhaps what happened the other day… that it was too intimate, that it freaked you out. I know sometimes you hold back, and have avoided me in the past.” He looked away. “But then I heard your voice this morning and realized you were actually ill. I was angry that I doubted you, and then with the show, I couldn’t come until now.”
I pressed my lips together. He was right; I’d pushed him away instead of communicating twice before. Much to my surprise, Rhys held onto the memory of my ignoring him and it had left behind a bruise I couldn’t see, but one that he certainly felt.
“I’m not going to do that again, Rhys.”
“I know. I shouldn’t hold past mistakes against you, sorry. Come here.”
The last part was a command; he reached over and pulled me across his chest, cradling me like a child in his arms. It was sweet and soothing, and after only a few moments of breathing him in, I became sleepy. Rhys lifted me up and ushered me to my room. “Can I go into your bedroom?” he asked, having never entered all the other times he’d been there. I nodded and he followed me in.
I got into bed and crawled beneath the duvet. Rhys smiled, noticing his jacket for the first time since he arrived. He tugged on the strings in acknowledgment, tucked me in and kissed my head. I silently begged him not to join me in my bed. If he lay there beside me, it would be another step away from Aaron, one I wasn’t emotionally ready for despite that I hadn’t dreamed about Aaron dying in weeks.
He didn’t though, and I dozed off quickly, so tired that I didn’t even worry about how he’d leave the apartment and lock the door behind him.
∞
I awoke the next morning by 8:00 a.m., having slept well with the medicine Rhys brought over. Determined not to spend another day lying around, I got out of bed and freshened up in the bathroom. I felt a lot better, and then I remembered he’d been there. I wondered if he had left me a note since I checked my phone lacking in messages from him. But then, on my way to make coffee, I saw him. He’d slept on my couch.
Witnessing Rhys asleep felt like catching a gorgeous animal in the wild, like some secret I would never be able to keep because it was too juicy. He looked beautiful and docile with his arms hanging off the sofa. Not only had he slept over, but he stayed out of my bed knowing what it meant to me, and he slept uncomfortably in jeans all night.
After moments of admiring him, I realized it would be creepy if he awoke to see me watching. Slowly, I backed into my room and showered. I pinned my hair back with a clip, changed into fresh pajamas, and attempted to make coffee as quietly as possible. He was a heavy sleeper though, continuing to doze through my loud shower and coffee maker. I poured us both mugs, and I sat beside him on the floor.
Rhys’ eyes started twitching and mine darted towards them. I got the sense he knew I’d been watching, so I stroked his hand to make it seem like I woke him instead. He turned and rubbed his eyes with one hand before focusing on me.
“Hi,” he whispered, huskily.
“Hi…what are you doing here?” I smiled, but the form of my question implied an unwelcome tone I hadn’t intended.
“I didn’t want to leave you in case you needed something. I’m sorry, is that all right?”
“More than all right,” I smiled bashfully. “I was surprised to find you, but it’s nice to know I’m taken care of.”
“You just seemed so ill last night, I was worried your fever would go up.”
I kissed his hand, nudging it with my head. “Thank you, I don’t know how else to tell you how sweet that was.”
“You’re welcome, darling.”
I offered Rhys his coffee and he sat up to begin sipping it. “I have the show tonight, obviously. But I told Michael I won’t be making rehearsals. I’ll be here till about four.”
He offered to take me to lunch or pick some up, but I asked him to order it in. I didn’t want to lose time with him and also didn’t want to get dressed for the day. He understood, wanting to be selfish with me too. Just as he was about to call, Rhys looked over at me. “Ellie…”
“Hmm?”
He hesitated. “Can I stay here tonight; to make sure you’re okay?”
I contemplated the best way to respond, looking down at my hands and avoiding his gaze. It was nice having someone to wake up to, someone to take care of me, but I wasn’t ready to share my bed yet. I also wasn’t sure if that’s what he was insinuating. How could I express myself without sounding cruel and assuming? Rhys placed his hand on my leg. “Ellie?”
“Sorry…I’m not sure how to explain what I’m thinking without hurting you.”
“I’d like for you to be honest with me. You won’t hurt me, I promise.”
“Okay…” I mumbled. “I want you to stay here, but I’m not ready to share my bed. I don’t mean sexually either.” I shook my head, hearing how it sounded. “I’m just not ready to sleep next to someone. I’m not sure when I’ll be ready, but I hate when you leave.”
“I meant on the couch. I don’t expect that. I simply don’t want you to be alone.”
“You don’t mind sleeping on the sofa?” I leaned in with disbelief.
“No, I don’t,” he shrugged. His eyes exuded honesty and a kindness he never hesitated expressing to me.
“Then yes, I’d like you to stay.”
He smiled from ear to ear, nervously though, unsure if he’d imagined my positive response. It sunk in after a moment and he said, “Okay, I’ll come back after the show. I’m going to leave here earlier to get some clothes.”
I worried I’d hurt his feelings, but Rhys knew what I was thinking. He leaned in and kissed my mouth quickly. “I know why you feel the way you do, I get it and one day we’ll get there. But I don’t expect it, okay?”
I nodded, his forehead against mine, appreciative for that man and his golden heart.
∞
Rhys returned after the show with an overnight bag. After dinner, we’d been watching TV when a commercial came on of a couple snuggled in bed. We both thought it; how it could be us if I’d stop being crazy, but neither of us voiced it. The problem was that the commercial kept playing and after the fourth time, Rhys cleared his throat; his indication that something was on his mind. I had been laying with my head across his lap and turn
ed on my back to look up. “What?” I asked bluntly.
“I want to ask you something, but don’t get upset.” I put my hand up to his face to motivate him, and he rubbed his stubbly jaw against it. “Do you think you’ll be able to sleep next to someone eventually? I know it’s because of Aaron, and I’m not pressuring you, but someday right?”
After two years of swearing off love and relationships, I was constantly being challenged by this one. Part of me did want to snuggle with him, to wake later in the week and smell hints of him on my sheets. But the fear was too much and as quickly as I would daydream over it, morbid thoughts stormed my mind.
“I never really thought about it before, because I didn’t have to. I’d like to one day, I’m just so scared. It’s heartbreaking, but the image of Aaron lifeless next to me tends to overlap all the wonderful memories I have of him. It’s imprinted in my mind and I’m paranoid if I sleep next to someone again, that I’ll lose them too.”
My eyes watered and when I blinked, the tears escaped. Rhys wiped them away tenderly. “You never told me exactly what he passed from. I know it was in his sleep, but what was the cause?”
“His heart just stopped beating,” I shook my head. “Everything was normal otherwise.”
Rhys rubbed my head and stayed quiet for a few minutes but they felt like an eternity. “Ellie, you know that just because someone’s in your bed, doesn’t mean it’ll happen again. It could happen on the street, at work, in the next room on the sofa. I’m not trying to frighten you, but the bed isn’t the problem. Don’t mistake this for expectations either. I’m not rushing you. I just anticipate that we can both hope for that, when the time’s right for you.”
“You talk so causally about us, like we’re in it for the long haul.”
His head jerked back in the dark. “Well, aren’t we? I thought we were.”
“I hope so. It’s scary how serious it’s getting, because that means I get more attached. But I like the idea of that…being together.”
For Both Are Infinite (Hearts in London Book 1) Page 18
