“Thank you. That makes me feel so much better.”
“Thank you for trusting me.” I pause. “Telling you that I’m sorry you went through this isn’t enough. I don’t know what to say except to let you know how much I care about you. I don’t have many friends, but you’re one of them, Kerry, and I’m proud of you for surviving with so much strength. And if you ever want to talk . . .”
“I’d like that, Allison. I don’t keep this a secret, but I don’t talk to everyone about it, obviously. But you’re so great, and it means a lot that you didn’t run from this screaming. I threw a lot at you tonight, unexpectedly, and you handled it with grace.” She exhales loudly. “And now you understand why he does what he does, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I reply. It hurts to say what I do. “He wants to undo what he thinks he did. He wants to prove that the world is more than just brutal. To prove that there is good.”
“Exactly,” she says. “He’s a warrior.”
“He is,” I agree. “And he’s going to win this battle.” I run my hand through his hair while he sleeps against me.
“Absolutely. But, still, you’ll watch over him for me, yes? He only lets me get so close. It’s why I wanted him to tell you about this. At this point, he has more healing to do than me. So, watch over him.”
“Always,” I assure her. “Always.”
CHAPTER 20
BREAKFAST BLEND
When I wake the next morning, Esben is still curled over me, asleep. Despite the circumstances of how he ended up here, I can’t help but admit how wonderful it feels to have him here. Lightly, so as not to wake him, I rub his back. I cannot believe that I have this handsome, dynamic, interesting, funny, caring boy in my arms right now. Three months ago, I would have totally rejected the idea that I could be as happy as I am today.
It’s way before my alarm will go off, but I can’t get back to sleep. I’m not crazy about extricating myself from Esben, but nature calls. And, more strongly, coffee calls. Simon sent me back to school after Thanksgiving with a pound of a breakfast blend, and I’m craving a cup. And after the tequila shots my boyfriend downed, he’ll probably be even more in need of coffee than me. While I’m sorry that he’s probably going to wake with a hangover, I do rather love the impending opportunity to take care of him and make him feel better. There’s a novelty in this that swells me. Gently, I touch my lips to the top of his head and then ease my body out from his hold. I slip on my robe before tiptoeing out of the room and quietly shutting the door.
While a pot of strong coffee is brewing and sending off steam and an awakening aroma, I check my phone.
There’s a text from Steffi that came in the middle of the night. Yo, social-media user! Nice pics. You look beautiful, and Esben gets sexier every minute. I mean that in a nonlascivious manner. Mostly.
I smile and start to text back, but the phone rings in my hands.
“Steff, what are you doing up? It’s three thirty in the morning there!”
“I don’t know. Can’t sleep. Saw your text bubbles and decided to call.”
“How is erotic Esben?”
“Oh my God, Steff!” I cover my mouth to muffle my giggling. “You are not to start calling him that!”
She gasps. “You’re whispering! You’re whispering! He’s there, isn’t he? Naked and strapping and passed out in your bed from the hours of hot sex!” She is way too joyful about this idea.
“He is not naked!” I go into the Jenga/inflatable-unicorn room but still keep my voice down. “But he is here.”
“Because he stayed the night?”
“Yes, but not like that. We just slept in the same bed, that’s all.”
“Ugh, so there were clothes on and stuff?”
“Well, yes.”
“That’s disappointing,” she says with exaggerated distress. “But at least it’s progress.”
“Goodness, I’m so sorry you’re so sad about this.”
“Did you just say ‘goodness’?”
“Apparently. I don’t know why.”
“How quaint of you. Perhaps I shall start exclaiming ‘Goodness!’ from now on. It has an old-fashioned ring to it. There’s no reason to get a bee in your bonnet, missy! Egad and fiddlesticks and dang it all! God save the queen!”
“God save the queen? Really? How does that fit in here?”
“I think it’s a nice substitution for swearing. I’m going to start using it, like, all the time, so get ready.”
“Stop it, or you’re going to make me laugh too loudly and wake erotic Esben!”
“Well, it is morning, so then we’d have to call him erec—”
“Enough!” It is very hard to suppress my laughter, so she has got to knock this off. “Listen, we have to make plans for Christmas. Simon asked what dates you want to fly in and out.” Ever since I’ve lived with Simon, he’s made sure that I get to see Steffi over the holidays. Even when she was with Joan and Cal, the couple who basically kicked her out when she turned eighteen, Simon drove me the hour it took to reach her on Christmas Day. For the past few years, he’s flown her into Boston for two weeks, and she’s spent Christmas and New Year’s with us.
“Oh. Listen . . . about that,” she says more seriously now.
“What? What do you mean ‘about that’? I don’t like the sound of this.”
“Okay, please don’t get mad, but . . . I’m going on a cruise!” she says excitedly.
“You’re going on a what? What are you talking about?”
“A bunch of the people I hang out with here are doing a three-week cruise, and one of the girls had to drop out. She’s selling me her spot for dirt cheap, and I can’t pass it up. I’m heading to Hawaii! And . . . and . . . other places! I don’t even know the itinerary, but it’s a cruise! To top things off, I have a major crush on one of the guys who’s going. His body is enough to make me burst into flames.”
This is not making any sense whatsoever. “So you’re not coming to Boston at all? Oh.”
“Don’t be sad. You hate Christmas anyway, and if you saw this guy, you’d probably dump Esben and go on a cruise with him, too.”
“If you say so.”
She pauses. “There will be other trips.”
“Spring break, maybe?”
“Sure! And definitely this summer, okay?”
“Okay. This trip does sound like it could be really fun, but you have to promise to send me a million pictures. Especially of this hot guy.”
“Deal!”
I’m happy for her, really, but I can’t help being a little bummed out that we won’t be together over the holidays. “I’ll have Simon mail your presents to you.”
“No, no. He really doesn’t need to get me anything.”
“Of course he does. He loves spoiling you.”
“Seriously, it’s not necessary.”
I laugh. “If you think for two seconds that Simon will not be shipping out large boxes to you, then you are forgetting who he is.”