His eyes widen. “Nervous?”
I nod. “You?”
“No.” He grins. “This is the part I’m good at.”
That makes me giggle nervously like an idiot.
“You doubt me?” he asks, taking my cup and putting them both down on the side table text to us.
“No, I remember the last time. It was only a few weeks ago.” I scoff.
“Six weeks yesterday,” he says, stepping closer and lifting his hands to my cheeks. “But that was nothing.” He lowers and kisses me softly.
This time there are no cats or sisters or distractions. It’s just us.
The kiss deepens as his hands slide down my neck and arms.
I press myself against his firm chest, climbing up into the embrace. He walks us, moving through the house as if this isn’t his first time weaving with a girl—nope. Not thinking about it.
Kicking off my shoes, I climb onto the bed and let him come to me. But he doesn’t. He stands there, leaning against the door.
“What are you doing?” I ask as I drag my shirt off.
He has a strange glint in his eyes. “It’s better than I imagined it.”
“What is?”
“Seeing you in my bed again.” The admission sends that tingle running through me once more. He too pulls off his shirt and walks to me, climbing on the bed and pushing me back. He hovers over me, again staring for a second before lowering.
He kisses me with the passion I recall from weeks ago. He’s intense and yet careful and tantalizing with every touch. His fingers knead and grip and whisper over me as he lies next to me and pulls me in.
His hands on me trail fire in every direction.
Sex with him isn’t simple. There’s a weird feeling of coming home. He’s still beautiful and confident but now he’s a giver of earth-trembling moments I’ve never experienced before.
I find myself gripping the sheets and praying to the unholiest of gods.
It’s exactly how I imagined this moment. Fifteen years of imagining has come to life.
Chapter 27
April 30
“Lil, can I get some water, please?” Liz calls from my bedroom where she has taken up residence. It’s been weeks now. The stairs at their house were forbidden so she moved in with me to enjoy the perks of having an at-home maid service and an elevator. The walk-in shower in my bathroom is another perk.
“Of course,” I call back and walk into the kitchen from my office that looks like a tornado hit it. Working from home has turned into me working a lot more than I should.
When I get into the bedroom, I smile. She’s curled up with Romeo and wiping her face because she’s watching Love Actually. I can’t watch it yet. The Alan Rickman and Emma Thompson storyline hits a little too hard still. But it switches to the ridiculous scene in the American bar with the sexy girls when I get into the room.
I place the water down and scratch Romeo’s soft ears. I love that they’re too small for his fluffy head. “How are you feeling?” I ask, as I do every couple of hours.
“Good. Bored. Ready for this life-sucking beast to leave my body.” Her answers are always the same but in different order.
“Two weeks and it’s over.”
“Thirteen days. Not two weeks.” She doesn’t meet my gaze, letting me know she would prefer to continue with her Christmas-movie marathon in peace.
“Right, thirteen days.” I chuckle and leave them in peace.
Shawnee sends me a photo into our chat. It’s her and Anthony smiling.
It’s been almost a month and she has never been this smitten. I send a GIF of a girl squeezing two teddy bears and saying, I just love you both. Clearly, Anthony isn’t taking the workday as seriously as I am as I head back into my office to keep on trucking. Not that I blame him, as someone who has spent thirty years hanging out with Shawnee, I would ditch work to be with her too.
Rod’s name flashes at me from an invoice that has obviously been sent to me incorrectly. I email it on to Simone, unsure who handles Rod’s paperwork.
His name distracts me. I end up on Facebook, creeping. It’s an odd trigger and response but I can’t seem to fight it.
His profile picture has been updated four days ago with a new photo of him and Elaine. Evidently, they’re back together.
I scroll through his posts, surprised when I find he’s changed his Facebook status from “it’s complicated” to “in a relationship” with her.
Hating them both just a bit, I search for Brent’s profile and grin seeing Bear in every new picture. Brent’s even wearing a mask in a few of them, something not all Nova Scotians are doing. The sickness doesn’t feel real here. It has hardly touched us.
The nonessential services remain closed, but they are already talking about reopening mid-May.
There’s a hint of excitement at the idea of being in the world again, getting haircuts and eating with other people and being allowed in parks.
My hair is a disaster. I was so preoccupied with moving and leaving Rod that I didn’t book myself in. Now my dark-brown hair has streaks of tinsel through it and the cut is grown out. So it’s shaggy. The never-ending messy bun has become something of a signature look for me.
A weird scratching sound catches my attention. I get up and walk to the front door where Romeo is standing on his back legs and scraping at the door rapidly. It’s the weirdest thing he’s done yet.
“What are you doing?” I ask, laughing at him.
But he’s determined to keep it up.
“Is something out there?” I walk to him, unlocking the door and opening it.
He scurries out into the hallway and shoots to the doorway across the hall. He stands on his back feet like a gopher and does the same thing. Scratching at the door.
“Hey.” I hurry over and scoop him up. “You can’t do that, crazy pants. Come on. That’s not our door.” I kiss his forehead, something he is not fond of and carry him back into our place.
As I close the door, I hear the door across from us open. But by the time I turn around and peek in the peephole, the door is closing.
“You are bad,” I scold Romeo who gives me a savage expression as an answer. “Bad.” I kiss his forehead again and put him down. He sits, tail and ears twitching. He is not happy with me. “Behave yourself.” I point back at him as I stroll into my office to chain myself to the desk to get back to work.
Romeo comes into the doorway of the office and sits, giving me the stink eye.
He meows.
“I’m not letting you into the hallway to scratch at strangers’ doors. You little monkey.”
He sniffs and turns, walking back out. Tail twitching and all.
“What a crazy cat,” I mutter as I lift my home phone from the desk and call Doreen to double-check the account in front of me.
She answers straightaway, “Lil, how’s it going?”
“Good, you know. Same old. How’s it there?” She and Matt have been working in the office, the only two people there.
“Busy.” She pauses and I have a bad feeling about what she’s about to say next. “Rod’s Facebook—”
“Right.” I wince. “Yeah, we are separated. I updated my address with Janice. I’ve moved into the city actually. Not far from work.”