by B. E. Laine
I turn to find him staring intently at me. “Is this your home?”
He smirks and nods. Then he motions me to walk into the living room. I try to take it all in at once … the leather couch with a throw laid on it, the TV is surrounded by shelves with movies occupying them, and I think I spot a few books in there, too. I might have to check those out later. I turn and walk into the kitchen. I walk around the island, dragging my fingers along the smooth granite countertop. I stop directly on the other side and lock eyes with him. He is leaning against the back of his couch with his arms crossed, giving me a curious look.
I smile. “It’s beautiful, Drew.”
He smiles and reaches his hand out to mine. “But, you haven’t seen the rest yet.”
I take his hand and follow him. He shows me the bathroom and open office area, with more bookshelves. As we make out way down an open hallway, I see pictures that stop me dead in my tracks, and he turns to see what caught my attention. There are framed pictures of him without a shirt on, his hands wrapped, and standing in front of a boxing ring. Next to it are more pictures of him and other guys, looking the same way.
“You fight?”
He sharply says, “Used to.” He’s not looking pleased that I know, but did he really expect me not to find out? The pictures are hanging on his wall!
Guess we will talk that out when it comes up. He grabs my hand, leading me to the very back of the apartment, and walks me around a long wall that separates it from the rest of the space. His bedroom. I am in Drew’s bedroom. My mouth just went dry. I hope he doesn’t think something is going to happen. I know we have a connection, but I have not known him long enough. Now that I think about it, I’m not so sure how long you need to know someone before it is okay to sleep with them. You can know someone more than half of your life and it still does not make a difference.
“I’m just showing you where I live; I’m not going to try anything.” He adds the last with a voice meant for a small child.
Actually, that kind of pisses me off a little. I know he knows about my past, but there is no reason to throw it in my face. I am a grown woman and if I want to sleep with someone, I can. I wouldn’t have come here with him if I thought he was going to “try anything” I did not want. “I know that,” I say, sharply.
He doesn’t reply. I might have been ignoring it, but there is something off about him tonight. He’s acting different, and I’m not sure how to deal with it. Maybe I should have gone home with Lauren, but I refuse to run away from my problems this time. We have something that is indescribable; not everyone has our kind of connection.
I decide to take matters into my own hands. “Is something wrong? You have been acting strange all night. Did I do something?”
He strides to me, taking my head in his hands, locks eyes with me, and kisses me more passionately than he ever has. He’s taking complete control, and I melt at his touch. He takes one hand off of my face to move it around my waist, holding me flush against him. I easily fall into him, kissing him just as passionately. He slides his hand up the back of my shirt, and I gasp at the skin-to-skin contact. He backs me up against the wall, the exposed brick scratching my bare shoulder. He is kissing me like he is trying to prove himself.
He finally breaks contact with my lips, and I take advantage. “Stop trying to distract me.”
The way he glares down at me proves just what his intentions were with that kiss. If he is keeping things from me, and will not communicate this soon into our relationship, then we will not make it far. I am not the type to just sit aside and keep my mouth shut, especially when it has to do with me. However, I bite my tongue and wait for him to speak. “I want you to be mine, Kara.”
Puzzled, I stare back at him. “I don’t want to be anyone else’s.”
He lets out a breath that he’s been holding, and relief washes over his face. What could make him ever think someone would not want him is beyond me. It is him that I do not understand wanting me. He could have any girl he wants, yet he wants me. I am the girl that is fucked up inside, the one that doesn’t even know if she can do this relationship thing. I guess everyone needs a little ego boost sometimes. Shit, I know I do a lot of the time, but that has to come from within me. How else could I have gotten this far with my school, but I can put myself aside for him. That is what people do in a relationship, right?
I break the silence. “So are you going to tell what this is all about?” My voice is small.
He closes his eyes before he begins. “I don’t know what it is about you.” He strokes my check with the back of his hand. “When another guy looks at you or touches you, I want to hurt them. You mean so much to me already that it scares me. I’m sorry for going weird on you tonight.”
I feel as if the air has been knocked out of me. I knew he must have liked me. but I would have never guessed that I mean so much to him. On the other hand, I don’t want to jump into this relationship with him too fast and risk scaring him.
I lean into him and say, “You mean a lot to me, too, but you don’t have anything to worry about with me.”
“Are you saying you have something to worry about with me?” he asks while he stares intently down at me. He is still holding me against him, not looking like he’s going to let me go. In a weird sense, maybe I don’t want him to.
“No … um … it’s just that I don’t know what we are … um … doing here,” I stumbled.
He bores into my eyes. “I want to be with you. I know your past has been anything but sunshine and flowers. Let me be your sunshine, and I will buy you millions of flowers.”
I lean against the wall for support. I wonder if he knows what he’s asking for. I want to tell him that a relationship with me won’t be easy. That, with my past, I am not even sure if I can be in a stable relationship without screwing it up. On the other hand, I don’t want to throw something great away just because of my insecurities.
“I want to be with you, too, but I don’t know if I can do it. I mean, I haven’t been in a relationship since …”
He takes my face in his palms, looking me square in the eye. “You were not the problem in that relationship. We both want this so how about we take a chance and see where it takes us. One condition, though … no other guys.”
I nod my head in agreement. “Okay … and no more girls?” I raise my eyebrows.
A hint of a smile plays on his lips. “There is only you, sweetheart.” He kisses my forehead and moves away.
I am guessing he saw the bewildered look on my face because he starts to explain. “If we are going to be together, I want to do this right.” He says the next part as if he’s not sure how I will react. “Because of what happened in your past, I think we should take things slow, get to know each other and let the chips fall where they may. No rushing, okay?”
I freeze at the mention of my past, but at least I didn’t freak out. I totally agree with him about taking it slow. If we rush into things, I think what we have would be taken away. Plus, I don’t know if I could handle it. How pathetic that we have to do things differently than normal people … because of me. Do I really want to put him through this? I know it is not fair to him, and I feel selfish.
“I don’t want you to do anything differently than you normally would do with a … um … girlfriend …”
Oh, wow! Did I just use the word girlfriend? What is wrong with me?! I look down in embarrassment and start wringing my hands together. I hardly ever notice when I do it, but he reminds me by putting his hands over mine, pleading me to stop my nervous habit. I look up into those imploring eyes. “One, I don’t want this to be like any other relationships I have had in the past. Two, girlfriend is the right word to use.”
There’s a glimmer of hope in his eyes. I just smile and nod. He smiles, grabs my hand, and leads me out of his bedroom and to the couch. He sits me down and goes to grab us drinks. He returns with non-alcoholic ones which make me frown, but then I remember that he has work at eight in the morning. I sigh
and take a sip of my drink. It’s some mix of cranberry juice and orange juice, I think. I really don’t care; it tastes wonderful.
He sits beside me and puts his arm around me. We sit back and relax, and it feel nice and normal. Maybe we can have a normal relationship.
We watch some late night shows on the satellite. Well, between making out like teenagers and talking about his life when he was fighting, we really didn’t watch them. I was surprised to learn that he fought all through college so that he could pay for it. He promised me that he does not do it now. It makes me sad to think of him having to stoop to that level just to achieve a college degree. I feel proud of him, though. From what he has told me about his past, it wasn’t smooth sailing for him, either.
His mom would come home drunk from the bar every night with a different guy. It pissed Drew off that his mother didn’t care about her health … or him, for that matter. He told me that, after his dad left him and his mother to fend for themselves, she let herself go off the deep end. That’s how he found himself here, at the gym.
Not only did he learn to fight here and then moved in, he helps out every chance he gets. It makes me smile that people my age still care enough to donate their time to kids that don’t have a role model. I don’t know what I did to become lucky enough to have someone like him in my life, but I hope that he stays.
Someone is shaking me. I tense up, jerking my eyes open and scanning wildly around the room. They finally rest on him, and I instantly relax. He pulls me to him, wrapping his strong arms around me and making me feel safer than I have ever felt. “I’m sorry I scared you. You fell asleep, sweetie,” he tells me in a soft voice.
Crap, I feel asleep. He probably wants me to leave so he can get to bed. How rude of me. He has work in the morning. “Oh, I’m sorry, Drew. I didn’t mean to be a burden. I will go so you can get some sleep,” I say groggily, trying to sit up.
“You don’t have to leave unless you want to.” He pulls me to him and I lay my head on his chest. “I would like you to stay the night … if you want to, of course. Nothing will happen,” he says, almost a whisper.
“Okay,” I say, weakly. He has a way of breaking down walls, and makes me feel again. It is scary, but I think I like it.
We stand and walk to his bedroom. He pulls a t-shirt out of his closet and hands it to me, telling me I can use the bathroom to change. I smile and walk to the bathroom. I take off my clothes, fold them, and place them neatly on the vanity. I will have to wear the same clothes tomorrow anyway. I normally don’t sleep in my bra, but I’m hesitant whether I should leave it on or not. I don’t want him thinking that I want to do something. Well, I want to, but I don’t think I am ready for that, and it would ruin what we have right now.
I smile at myself in the mirror. I don’t ever remember being this happy, nor did I ever think I would be this happy again. I take a deep breath. “Baby steps, one step at a time,” I say into the mirror. I tried to fix the mess of top of my head. I feel like I’m channeling Lauren. I finally give up; that is as good as it’s going to get. I finish by using his mouthwash, hoping he doesn’t mind.
He gave me a white shirt with black and red writing on it. I have no clue what it says, but I think it’s a fighting shirt. I finally decide I can sleep one night with a bra on. I make my way back through the quiet loft to his bedroom. As I poke my head around the wall, I see that he’s already under the covers.
He has his hands behind his head, making those muscles flex in just the right way. I am finally getting a good look at his bare chest, only to find more muscles and more tattoos. I know he said he wanted to take things slow, but I’m not so sure I can. The tattoos lead downward, right to his …
I giggle at the thoughts going through my head. He cocks his head, giving me a puzzled look, which makes me giggle louder. He really has no clue how adorable he is when he does that.
“Are you enjoying the view, baby?” he says in a seductive voice, and it immediately halts my giggles.
I catch his smoldering eyes fixed on mine, and I feel a thousand feelings that I have never felt before run through me. I feel drawn to him, just like a moth to a flame. In a daze, I start walking towards him. He sits up to pull the covers back for me, but when he moves so do those muscles. I catch my eyes wandering and hope he didn’t notice.
I climb into bed and we instantly snuggle up against each other, our bodies fitting perfectly like they belong together. Everything would have been perfect, except now I remember why I do not sleep in a bra. It is poking and prodding me whichever way it possibly can.
Drew notices my discomfort and slightly pulls back. “What’s the matter?”
Feeling my face flush bright red while I try to figure out how to get out of this one, I decide the truth won’t hurt. “Um … I don’t normally sleep in a bra and it’s … uh … bugging me … sorry,” I say, abashed.
“Oh, well, I want you to be comfortable. Here …,” he says, as he reaches around me.
“Wait … I … uh … I can do it. I will do it.” How much more humiliating can this be?
I reach behind me and try to undo the three little hooks, but it is much harder lying down than standing. I get one hook undone but the other two suckers will not budge. He takes my arms and pulls them back around to the front, clasping my hands in his and brings them up to his face. He kisses my fingers. The streetlight is reflecting through the windows, illuminating half of his perfectly sculpted face.
Seriously, he says, “Trust me.”
I slowly nod my head. I lean into him, laying my head down on his shoulder, as he moves his hands around to my back. He takes his time pulling my shirt up, as if show me exactly what he is doing as he is doing it. Once he makes it to the hooks, he undoes them with ease. It makes a dreadful thought pop into my mind but, as fast as it was there, I push it away. I’m not going to let my foolish thoughts ruin the moment.
He begins to move further up my shirt, and I tense. I don’t want him to stop because his hands feel so good on me, but I know we shouldn’t. It is too soon.
His hot breath gives me chills, as he whispers in my ear, “Trust me, baby. I’m just going to help you take it off.”
“Okay,” I say, breathless.
I settle back onto his chest, as he effortlessly maneuvers to pull my arms out of the straps of my bra without taking my shirt off or touching me. He pulls my bra out from beneath my shirt and nonchalantly leans over me to put it on the floor beside me. Having him that close to me makes me sense everything … the weight of the shirt on my bare breast, his defined abdomen leaning close to me, his musky cologne mixed with a hint of his own personal scent. That mix can be intoxicating, and I think I’m getting drunk on Drew right now. I need to pull myself together. We talked about this. We’re taking things slow.
The way his breath hitches as he leans over tells me I am not the only one feeling this attraction. As he goes to lie back down, he slides he masculine hand to my neck and pulls me to him. He takes my mouth like it is the first time tasting me, or as if it’s his last. I slide my tongue along his lips and he opens his mouth on contact, massaging my tongue with his. He pulls on my bottom lip and I, in turn, start to suck on his tongue. He hastily pulls away, shaking his head and mumbling, “You are going to kill me, baby.” He kisses my forehead while he puts an arm around my waist, pulling me flush against him. That’s when I feel how I’m going to kill him.
I have the dumbest grin on my face. The fact that I can do that to him is enough to put me on cloud nine. For the longest time, I didn’t think anyone could be attracted to me after HE ruined me. However, Drew is attracted to me and that is all that matters. He nuzzles my hair, pulling me tightly to him and I fall into a comfortable sleep.
In the morning, I got up when he did and enjoyed watching him stroll through his loft getting ready. He was in his own little world, though every now and then he would turn his head and smirk at me. He knew that I was up to no good but, since I didn’t have class that morning and my inte
rnship didn’t start until one, I was in no rush.
He had insisted on me staying in bed and getting more sleep, telling me that he would take an early lunch and take me back home so that I could get ready. I told him there was no sense in that. I could just get up when he did and he could take me home when he left. It was more like I did not feel completely comfortable alone in his apartment.
Lauren, my roommate and friend, has been telling me that she can’t believe the change she has seen in me the past couple weeks. I agree with her. I am a little different, but I think it’s better. I feel like I am finally coming out of the slump I have been stuck in for the past four years. I have someone that truly cares for me now.
Things have been pretty perfect these past two weeks, even after our rough start. Once we got it out there how we both felt and what we both wanted, everything else seemed to just fall into place. We try to see each other every night, although that does not always happen. We both understand our busy schedules and promised not to let it come between us.
I have stayed the night with him a few times. It’s normally the same every time; we have our little routines now. It’s sweet. Even though we both agree that we should take things slow, it doesn’t mean that it is easy to keep our hands to ourselves. There have been times that, if he would not have stopped us, we would have gone all the way. It feels different with him and I want it, but I’m scared that pushing the relationship further than it is ready to go will backfire.
