Although of course there’s a reason.
And he’s sitting in the stacks right close to me.
Is this good I’m so motivated to be sexy for him? Or is it bad?
Don’t the rules say somewhere that everything you do, you should only do for yourself, in self-love?
Yet here I am, willing to do anything for this man that would make him happy. Ready to take care of him.
I hear the church clock outside chime in the distance, striking midnight, and pop back into the row where I’m walking toward Luke.
When it hits the twelfth chime, I’m so close to him I can smell him.
I’ll never forget his piney, manly scent. Or the view of how he looks here, his big frame, broad shoulders, and short hair that fades into his neck as he reads.
“Well hell, Cielo,” he says in a low voice.
I jump as he turns around with a smirk.
“How did you know I was here? Did you hear me?”
“No.” He smirks. “I could smell you. I’d recognize your perfume anywhere. Come here.”
He taps his lips, giving me a target to plant a kiss, which I do. He slides his hand over my back and it lingers on my hip and gives me the lightest squeeze, causing me to purr into his mouth. My heart squeezes. Am I an idiot to be giving this up?
I try to silence another voice in my head, but it’s strong.
You’ll never find another guy quite like Luke, the voice says.
“So, what are you reading?” I ask Luke.
“Sit.” He points to the couch next to him.
I do, and he comes and slides next to me, then hands me a book.
“It’s William Butler Yeats’ poetry.”
I pick up the book. It’s humungous. “Is this for class?”
He shakes his head. “Nah. Just for fun. For me. Yeats is one of the best poets of all time, and everyone should read him. Read this one for me, will you?”
He points to a page and has me read for him. I read out loud:
The Wind Among the Reeds
I have drunk ale from the Country of the Young
And weep because I know all things now;
I have been a hazel-tree, and they hung
The Pilot Star and the Crooked Plough
Among my leaves in times out of mind:
I became a rush that horses tread:
I became a man, a hater of the wind,
Knowing one, out of all things, alone, that his head
May not lie on the breast nor his lips on the hair
Of the woman that he loves, until he dies.
O Beast of the wilderness, bird of the air,
Must I endure your amorous cries?
“Wow,” I remark.
He stares at me with a serious expression when I’m done reading. “This is where it all began, you know.”
I look around at the couches. It’s the exact spot in the library basement where we came up with this crazy idea. “Operation Romper.”
“You’re so crazy for agreeing to this whole thing with me.”
“I’d have to agree.” I shake my head. “And I never thought it would have such unintended consequences.”
He squeezes my thigh. “Unintended consequences?”
Okay, that was a feeler phrase. It’s hard to put myself out there, to admit the whole truth right now. I want to know if he’s having the same thoughts I am about everything.
I look at Luke then reread the last lines of the poem, trying to figure out what message he’s trying to send me.
Will my “amorous cries” be given to the wind right now if I tell Luke I love him?
Is what I’m feeling right now…even love? Is it just infatuation with the most beautiful, most caring man I’ve ever known?
“So what do you think about the poem?” Luke asks.
“I think it’s a shame his amorous cries were lost on the wind.”
“Not that part. The part about the woman he loves.”
I look back at the poem. Luke touches my chin and brings my eyes back to him.
“Do you think,” he says, stroking a hand through my hair. His voice sounds so serious right now, he’s causing my heart to palpitate, “that a man’s head may not lie on the breast nor the lips of the woman he loves until he dies?”
A chill washes through me, and I freeze up.
“That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?”
“I don’t think so. He’s asking, do you marry the woman you love the most? What’s so dramatic about that?”
I swallow hard. This conversation is almost too much for me right now.
“Luke…” I stammer. “Why did you call me down here? To read some poem? What’s going on?”
“I…just thought it would be fun. Romantic. To meet down here, where it all started, and then I happened to pick up that book while I was waiting and the poem struck me. That’s all.”
“So that’s it? You just wanted to be romantic down here?”
“What, I can’t be romantic with my wife?”
“Please don’t use that word when it’s just the two of us.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not really your wife.”
“Sky, are you okay? I’m just kidding around. You know that.”
I sigh. He puts his hand on top of mine and squeezes.
“I got the email from the Peace Corps,” I say, not looking him in the eye.
“Oh? And…where are you going?”
I bring my gaze back to him.
“Are you excited for me to go? So I can get out of your hair and we can end this charade?”
His expression is stern. “Sky, look. Am I excited to end this thing? No, I’m not, to be honest. But I’m not going to hold you back in life, Sky. You’ve talked about the Peace Corps ever since I’ve known you. It was the first thing you said to me when we sat next to each other on the plane on the way to Buenos Aires.”
“I know. But…” I trail off.
He’s not on the same page as me, and I can’t stomach the reply I’ll get when I tell him I think I’m in love with him.
For real.
I can see it now.
Oh you’re…in love Sky? This was theatre.
Just like what he said about the kiss.
We totally had them going.
“But what?” he asks.
“But nothing. You’re right. It’s always been my dream, since I found out what the Peace Corps was in high school. I was just going to say I haven’t opened the email yet. Do you want to open it with me? It’s a pretty special moment and I want to share it with someone.”
He clears his throat, then wraps an arm around me. “Of course, Sky. I’d love to share this moment with you.”
Phone Service is bad down here but I’m hooked up to the Wi-Fi, so I connect to my email.
My thoughts race as I scroll and find it.
Maybe it’ll be Costa Rica or Mexico. Somewhere not-so-far. Somewhere coastal.
And maybe he’ll get drafted by Houston. That’s not even far for a long-distance relationship. That’s like the same as Colorado to Kansas in total miles, right?
He puts his hand on my jaw and twists my face toward him for a kiss.
It’s long and deep. I hold my phone out awkwardly.
He pulls back, still holding my head. “I want you to know, Cielo. No matter what happens, you’ll always be special to me. Always.”