by Noelle Adams
“You have a couple of admirers on campus?” Beck asks, her blue eyes glinting teasingly.
“No! I don’t have any admirers.”
“Haven’t you been going out with George Franks lately?”
“We went out a couple of times. Nothing serious.”
“But maybe he really liked you. He doesn’t strike me as a thoughtful gift-giver, but people sometimes surprise you. So he might be a possibility. Who else is into you? I mean, besides Jeremy.”
My cheeks redden even more. “Jeremy?”
Beck rolls her eyes. “Oh come on. Don’t try to deny it. I know you’re supposed to be friends or whatever, but that guy has got it bad for you. You know that, right?”
I stare down at the Christmas tree necklace, completely at a loss for words.
“I’m taking from your embarrassed expression that you do know this. So there’s really no potential with him? He’s pretty hot, you know. And y’all are so close.”
“Yeah. We are. And I know he’s hot. The truth is... the truth is...”
Beck sucks in a breath. “You guys have done it. Haven’t you? Haven’t you?” She’s speaking in a hushed whisper.
I nod sheepishly.
Clapping her hands with a little jig of excitement, Beck goes to close my office door so we can talk in privacy. “Tell me everything,” she says. “Was it good?”
“Yes. It’s been good.”
“So it’s still going on?”
“Yes.”
“Why are you keeping it a secret?”
“I don’t know. I mean, we’re not intentionally keeping it a secret. We just haven’t... I don’t know. It just feels weird, so we haven’t... haven’t said anything yet.”
Beck’s expression is thoughtful. “It’s hard. Especially on a campus like Milford where everyone knows everyone’s business. If a relationship is new, you don’t want it to get all the pressure of being under the microscope of everyone else.”
“Yes. That’s exactly right. I mean, we don’t even know what’s happening between us. We don’t need everyone else trying to figure it out too. So please don’t tell anyone.”
“I won’t. Well, maybe Evan, but he won’t tell a soul. I promise.”
I nod because I know Evan, and I know she’s speaking the truth.
“So are you in love?” Beck asks in a stage whisper.
My face twists as I admit, “I don’t know. I love him. I always have. And the sex is fantastic. But... I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel. How did you know you were in love with Evan?”
“That’s a hard question. I’m not even sure it descended on me like a message from on high. I didn’t like him at first. Then I kind of did. Then I was hot for him. Then I liked him even more. Then I was even hotter for him. Then I felt like I knew him for real—all the way—and I knew I loved him.”
I frown and rub my face. “Yeah. That makes perfect sense. Maybe the problem is it’s backward with Jeremy. I knew him for real—all the way—first. And the hot factor only came afterward. So I guess I’m just waiting for that realization. That this is what being in love feels like. That it’s the real thing. That it’s not just friendship plus sex.” I stroke the necklace box on the desk. “I’m so afraid of hurting him.”
“So you think you’ll have to?” The bright light has faded from Beck’s eyes with her concern.
I shake my head. “I hope not. I mean, I don’t know one way or another. But what if I decide I’m not really in love with him? What if I come to the realization that it’s not the real deal? What then? What will happen with us? I really can’t bear the thought of it.”
“Oh man.” Beck reaches over to give me a quick hug. “I can see why you’re nervous about it. But give it some time. A lot of people don’t know right away. Love isn’t some sort of magic thing that happens to you. It’s made up of our feelings and our choices and the places we find ourselves in life. I don’t think you need to get all upset about it yet. Just have a good time with Jeremy. Love him like you always have. You’ll figure it out. I know you will.”
My eyes are burning, and my throat is too tight to speak. But I nod and smile at Beck in appreciation. I don’t know why I’m close to tears right now, but they’re going to start to fall at any moment.
Beck gives me another quick hug before she leaves.
I cry for a minute in the quiet of my office. I leave the necklace in the box and put it on the shelf next to the two other gifts.
Next week is the last week of the Secret Santa gift exchange. At the Christmas party on Wednesday, all the givers are supposed to reveal themselves.
I wonder if my giver will reveal himself then.
And I wonder how I’ll feel when he does.
MY CONVERSATION WITH Beck makes me feel a lot less stressed about Jeremy, so I’m able to enjoy being with him for the rest of the week. Like last week, we spend every evening together. We have sex every night except for one when I have a headache.
Things are going well. Really well. In any other relationship, I’d be thrilled with how we’re doing. But because it’s Jeremy—and because he’s so important to me—I still occasionally get a sliver of doubt. That maybe this isn’t what it’s supposed to be. That maybe I don’t feel the way I should.
With a different guy, it never would have occurred to me at all. I’d just enjoy the sex and companionship and understanding and affection and absolute trust and assume that after a while, I’d get that romantic certainty I’m waiting for.
But it’s so important I never hurt Jeremy. And if this isn’t going to work for the long run, then I never should have started it at all.
On Saturday, I’m determined not to think about it. Jeremy and Leo spent the night with me last night, so we have a leisurely morning, making pancakes and going for a walk in the brisk December air.
It takes some doing, but I finally manage to convince Jeremy to go to the town’s Christmas fair with me in the afternoon. They have it every year—two Saturdays before Christmas. Local vendors and artists set up booths all through the small downtown area and sell gifts, ornaments, decorations, and seasonal food. I go every year, but I usually have to go with my other friends.
Jeremy has always claimed that the fair is simply too much Christmas for him to handle. He can do small doses. Christmas tree decorations. The occasional music. But in every previous year, he’s refused to go to the fair with me.
But this year he says yes. It doesn’t even take as much wheedling as I expected.
I have a wonderful time, stopping at all the booths, buying way too many Christmas decorations I don’t have room for. And drinking cider and eating all kinds of pastries.
I’m on a Christmas high when we finish our route through the downtown blocks. I’m hanging on Jeremy’s arm, trying not to giggle constantly from an overflow of festive feelings. Jeremy is carrying all our bags—my bags since he hasn’t bought anything for himself, although he bought several small things for me.
When we reach the car, he opens the back door and sets the bags on the floor of the back seat. Then he closes the door and turns to look at me.
He’s flushed from the sun and cold air. His short hair is ruffled into disorder. I know he shaved this morning, but it already looks like he could use it again. His brown eyes are soft. Fond. Just slightly dry.
My heart melts. I swear it feels like it’s melting in my chest. I wrap my arms around his neck and hug him hard.
He laughs and hugs me back.
The embrace lasts longer than most of our hugs. We hold on to each other and rock very slowly back and forth. I’m not sure if he’s doing the rocking or if it’s me, but I don’t really care.
It feels so raw. Real. Comforting.
I wonder if I’ve ever felt this close to another person. It’s like I could literally crawl inside his skin.
“I love you, May,” he murmurs, adjusting his head so his mouth is right at my ear.
“I love you too,” I mumble into hi
s shirt. I lift my head. I’m sure I’m beaming like a fool, and—yes, of course—there are unshed tears in my eyes. “Thank you for coming with me this year.”
“You’re welcome.” He draws back just slightly so he can thumb away a tiny tear beaded at the corner of my eye.
“You’ve never come with me before.”
“I know that.”
“Why did you come this year?”
“Because you wanted me to.” He clears his throat, dropping his eyes before raising them again almost shyly. “And I wanted to make you happy.”
“It did make me happy.”
“Good. That’s why I did it.”
“Maybe you’ll change your opinion on Christmas. Stop being such a Grinch.”
He twitches his eyebrows. “Doubtful.”
“Well, you’ve already made some major strides since we first met. You used to avoid anything Christmas-related like the plague, and look at you now.”
“A lot of things have changed since then.”
“Yeah.” I stretch up to kiss him. “They have.”
I intend the kiss to be quick and sweet, but he grabs my face unexpectedly and holds me in place as he responds. He’s so urgent that I lose my breath as my mouth opens to his. I grab one of his shoulders and press the length of my body against his.
I love him like this. Openly passionate. Eager. Needy. Nothing held back or ironically distanced. Before, I never even knew this side of him existed. Or, if I suspected, I never let myself think about it since I was keeping him safely in the friend compartment.
We kiss for a long time, leaning against the side of his car. If I’d thought about it, I might have been a little embarrassed about anyone who happened by seeing us, but I’m too wrapped up in Jeremy to even think about such a thing.
After a while, however, I become aware of something else. His body is responding to our embrace. He’s growing hard in his trousers. I feel it when I rub against him.
The realization sparks a thread of common sense. I pull my mouth away, caressing his messy hair. “We better stop.”
“I was having a good time.”
“I know that, but do you really want to be completely turned on in the middle of downtown Milford?”
He laughs hoarsely. “Not so much.”
I give him a quick peck on the side of his jaw. “So let’s go home. Then we can pick up where we left off.”
We get into the car, and Jeremy takes a minute to mentally get his body under control before he pulls out onto the street. We’re only four minutes away from Jeremy’s house.
Jeremy is quiet on the way home, so I’m not sure what he’s thinking. I collect my bags and go into the house, greeting Leo happily and then letting him out into the backyard.
When I step back into the kitchen, Jeremy is right there.
I mean, right there. I collide with him.
Holding on to his shoulders to catch my balance, I laugh. “Standing kind of close, aren’t you?”
“You said we could pick up where we left off.”
“Well, I meant it. Just let me wash up and change clothes and then we can—”
He doesn’t let me finish. He grabs me and hefts me up onto the edge of the small kitchen table. “Can’t wait that long,” he mumbles, pulling me into a hard, hungry kiss.
I’m so surprised I don’t respond immediately. I let him part my legs so he can fit between them and take a fistful of my hair to draw my head back farther.
It’s just starting to process in my mind with a flurry of thrilled excitement when he breaks the kiss and searches my face. “This okay?”
“Yes!” I drag his head back down toward mine. “Just took me a minute to catch up.”
“Always a step behind,” he says teasingly, nibbling a line down my neck before he returns to my mouth. “Plus I was thinking about this the whole drive back to the house.”
I giggle against his mouth and wrap my legs more tightly around him, but my amusement doesn’t last long. He’s devouring my mouth and caressing me all over, and it doesn’t take long until I’m just as turned on as he is.
He yanks off my Christmas sweater and the tank I’m wearing beneath it. I didn’t bother with a bra today, so my breasts are naked to the cool air of the kitchen. It feels strange. And kind of naughty. To do this on the kitchen table in front of a window with blinds that aren’t shut.
But it just turns me on even more.
He’s dragging off my jeans when I say, “When did my teddy bear become such a caveman?”
He’s chuckling but his eyes are hot and possessive as they rake over my naked body. “I don’t know. Must just be you who does it to me.” He positions me back on the table.
I help him unfasten his trousers so I can pull his erection out from his underwear.
“You okay?” he asks, his brows lowering slightly. “We haven’t had much foreplay.”
“I’m good. This is caveman sex, right? And it’s very hot.” I move his hand between my legs so he can feel for himself. I’m so aroused I’m throbbing with it, and I don’t want to wait any more than he does.
This seems to convince him because he repositions me on the table, parting my legs and holding up one thigh as he aligns himself at my entrance. Then he’s thrusting hard and fast, knocking the table against the wall, and I can’t believe we’re really doing it.
My whole body shakes from his motion. I’m dragging my fingernails across his shoulder as the pleasure intensifies. It doesn’t take long before my body starts to shake. I make helpless sobbing sounds that I smother against his shoulder. As I pant and try to come down, I feel him coming too. I squeeze hard around him as he grunts and jerks with thrusts that are almost aggressive.
He lets out a bellow as he comes, and he gathers me into a tight hug when the spasms have worked through him.
I hold on to him, too dazed from the aftermath of the pleasure to think clearly about anything except how I want him to hold me like this.
It’s a few minutes before he finally steps back. I lower my feet to the ground, and it takes a minute to get the circulation going and for my legs to hold me up. He’s already zipped up his pants, but I’m completely naked.
He gives me a rakish smile.
“Don’t be that way.”
“What way?”
“Enjoying the fact that I’m naked.”
“Um, I think that’s a pretty typical guy thing to do.”
I laugh as I reach down for my clothes. “Next time, you’re getting naked too.”
“Deal.” He leans down to kiss me. “That was really good.”
“Yeah, it was. I guess there’s a little caveman in you after all.”
WE MAKE DINNER AT HOME and watch a movie—at Jeremy’s request, it’s an old action film that he claims should count as a Christmas movie. We both enjoy it, and then we shower together and make love again in bed. Slowly this time. Tenderly.
It makes my chest ache strangely, like there’s too much filling it, like I can’t quite hold all the feeling inside me.
Afterward, after I’ve gone to the bathroom and put my fleece pajamas on, I curl up at Jeremy’s side. He’s still awake, and he lets me snuggle. He occasionally kisses my hair.
He’s not saying anything, so after a while I look up at his face. He’s watching me with a quiet expression I don’t understand.
“What is it?” I ask. My tone is hushed—like I might disturb the feeling between us by talking too loudly.
He shakes his head. “Nothing. I just love you.”
I smile. “I love you too.” I’ve never had a problem saying that to him before. I said it for the first time when I was eighteen and he was nineteen and he’d just been dumped by his girlfriend. I wanted him to know he was loved—always, always loved by me—no matter what happened in his romantic life.
But for some reason, even though I respond immediately, instinctively, the sound of his saying the words tonight makes my chest clamp down painfully. I look away from him, trying to d
istract myself by pressing a kiss into his chest. My hair falls down around my face, and I’m glad for the curtain it provides.
What if he means he loves me differently?
What if I’m going to end up failing him by not being able to mean it the way he wants?
What if I’m going to have to give all this up? Give him up? I can hardly stand the thought of it.
“What’s the matter?” he asks softly, gently tucking my hair back behind my ear.
“Nothing.”
“Please don’t lie to me.”
I take a shaky breath. I can’t lie to him. I’m not going to do it. But I also don’t know how to tell him the truth about what I’m worried about.
“You can tell me,” he adds in a hoarse murmur. “Even if it’s bad.”
“It’s not bad. I don’t think it’s bad. I’m just wondering... I just...” I make myself meet his eyes in the dark room. “How do you mean that?”
“Mean what?”
“That you love me.”
I see the understanding process on his face, ending in a kind of resignation. “Ah.” His tone is dry, and I think for a minute that he’ll withdraw the way he always used to when things got too earnest. But he doesn’t. He cups my face. “I mean I love you, May. I’m in love with you. I love you like the boy I was loved the girl you used to be, and I love you like the man I am now loves the woman you’ve become. I love you, May. And you could add hearts and roses and candles and sappy music, and it would be the perfect accompaniment for my feelings for you. I’ve felt like this for a long time, May. I’ve just been too scared and confused to tell you before.”
I gasp when he first starts talking, and by the end I’m panting and trying not to cry—completely overwhelmed with emotion.
It’s too dark in the room for me to know for sure, but I think his face looks almost tired. Tender but not hopeful. Like he knows what I’m going to say.
When I don’t—can’t—respond, he twitches his eyebrows. “Too much?”
I make a sound between a giggle and a sob. “No. Not too much. I’m glad you told me.”
