“Do you like it,” he asks me like a wide-eyed teenager, and I nod.
“Yes, it’s all really nice,” I tell him. “But where is your stuff?”
“Well, the stuff she showed me for men didn’t really fit me, but she did take me to get fitted for some suits. I guess when I start working there I can’t exactly walk around in jeans and T-shirts."
“Working there?” I ask surprised. I never in a million years thought that Chris would consider working at Crestfield Corp. I still thought he’d be on the fence about living in Chicago.
“Yeah, but not doing what Collin and Cal did. I don’t even really know what they did, but Dexter’s set me up with a position in their public relations division. They choose the charities the company donates to, the programs they sponsor, and coordinate events for fundraisers and things like that. I could really make a difference there.”
He looks so happy, it’s contagious. I’m so shocked that he went in reluctantly and came out almost enthusiastic about whatever they showed him.
“I did get one thing for myself today, though,” he tells me excitedly. He disappears out of the room in a flash, and when he returns he’s holding a guitar.
“Oh my gosh, it’s beautiful.” The guitar practically gleams—it’s white with gold trim, and looks as if it has always belonged to him. When he puts the strap on his shoulder, he looks like an ethereal rock star, especially with his new haircut. He strikes a few chords and I pull my knees to my chest and wait for him to begin playing. He smiles at me bashfully.
“Any requests?” He has a playful glint in his eye that I’ve missed, and I feel myself blush.
“Anything you play, I’ll love,” I tell him, and he grins and begins to play the most beautiful chords. They are slow and melodic, and I want to close my eyes and let the music wrap around me, but I don’t want to take my eyes off of him. He looks happy—not just happy but peaceful—and I haven’t seen him at peace in so long. When he begins to sing, the little goose bumps that have been absent the past few days wake up and walk across my body. His eyes lock on mine, and he begins to sing Justin Nozuka’s After Tonight. I was obsessed with this song the year I started dating Cal. Is it a coincidence or does he remember? He sings and my heart slows and my skin warms. I bite my lip and squeeze my knees together trying to downplay how wonderful he looks, how sexy this moment is, then he takes the guitar off and places it up against the wall.
“Please don’t stop…” I ask him quietly and his eyes smile at me.
“I mean the singing,” I tell him bashfully. He gives me a lopsided grin and continues to sing. He walks toward me and stops when he reaches the bed. I crane my neck to look at him. He leans down so we’re at eye level and continues to sing to me. My heartbeat has gone from slow to erratic. Chris never looks more confident or seems as sure of himself than when he sings. I smile at him and sway from side to side as he continues, and when his hands touch my waist, he pulls me up so we’re standing chest to chest. I can’t help but let out a breath to keep from floating away. We begin to dance. His hands slowly make their way across my back and I wrap my arms around his neck. His voice grows quieter until it’s just pretty whispers near my ear, but we continue to sway. I look up at him, his eyes are locked on mine and I can’t look away. His eyes glide down to my lips, and I can’t help but moisten them. Little by little we’re no longer swaying but taking little steps back toward the bed until I bump against it. I place my hands on his chest, and his hands slip between the material of my shorts and skin and linger there. Our lips hover near each other’s, the energy has changed from exciting and playful to hesitant lust. But why are we hesitant… because of earlier today? But that hesitancy doesn’t stop his lips from reaching mine, and they’re soft and our kiss is tentative. When I’m on the bed with him on top of me, his hands begin to explore my body and piece by piece our clothes come off and he’s inside of me. And all of our problems from earlier disappear.
When I wake up, the room is clean of all the bags and boxes from earlier.
“I made you breakfast,” I look over and see Chris sitting with a tray of what looks like pancakes, bacon, and a glass of orange juice. I sit up in shock. He’s completely dressed, wearing one of the few T-shirts and jeans he brought with him when we came back to Chicago. It looks like his hair has already started to grow back—the prickles of hair seem to be peeking out more than they were the day before.
“Thank you,” I pull the sheet over my naked body and he sits the tray on my lap.
“Where’s your mom and Caylen?” I ask taking a sip of orange juice to clear away my morning breath.
“At the park and then they’re going to the library. My session is in about an hour and I’ll be heading out.” He steals a piece of my bacon, and I giggle taking a bite of it. My eyes sweep over him, and he seems as if a burden has been lifted off him. Last night, he made love to me and it was sweet and fun. He was so playful during it that I felt like I was in high school all over again. The times Chris and I have slept together it was always intense and slow, but this time it was different.
“You seem different today,” I glance at him unable to contain my own grin. He smiles at me.
“Well, it’s still me,” he teases and I’m so surprised at how light and casual he is about it. He turns his body fully toward me and rubs the back of his neck.
“I think I’ve been looking at this through the wrong lens.” He shakes his head as if he’s figured out a problem he’s been working years to solve. I look at him curiously. “With what we have—the resources, the money, the influence that Crestfield Corp has—we could do great things,” he says excitedly.
“My mom and I have worked at that Kreuk place for years. Scraping barely enough together to implement programs for people who otherwise wouldn’t have access to what most people take for granted. It helped, and it felt good, but we weren’t able to do as much as we wanted.” His smile softens.
“But with the money that Crestfield pays me and having access to the resources they have, I could really do some good.” His eyes light up with excitement. He is genuinely happy, and it makes me happy for him. To know that he cares about people outside of himself, it warms my heart and I set aside the tray and crawl over to him and sit on his lap. He looks surprised but amused.
“You’re amazing, Chris.” I kiss him softly on the lips.
“You’re amazing, Lauren. I jumped to conclusions about you. Though you are rich, you’re so down to earth. I guess I don’t have a good history with rich people, and you never seemed like one,” he chuckles.
“I’m rich?” I ask in amused disbelief.
“You have ten times more money than anyone I know. Well, aside from the Crestfields,” he says.
“Well, you sort of are a Crestfield now,” I tease him back regretting the words as soon as I say them. His eyes crinkle a bit, and he lets out a small breath.
“I am and I plan on exploiting that name as much as I can to do as much good that can be done,” he tells me confidently. I kiss him again just for being Chris. I think I’ve fallen in love with this man all over again in the span of a day.