Coda 01 - Promises
today?”
“Yes. I get off at five.”
“Do you have an extra house key?”
“Yes.”
“Can I have it?”
“Of course.”
“I need to go home and change, and then I’ll do some shopping and meet you here after work.”
And that sounded a little bit like a promise too.
W HEN I got home, he was in the kitchen putting water on the stove to cook spaghetti in.
“Here.” He tossed me a yellow bell pepper. “Cut that up for the salad, will you? I got an avocado for you too.” He hated avocados.
“What are you gonna do?”
He winked at me. “Supervise, of course.” He leaned against the counter next to me, and I started chopping. “I’ve been meaning to ask how the tutoring is going.”
I told him about Ringo and about the visit from Alice Rochester. I don’t cook, so it took me a ridiculously long time to cut up the pepper and avocado. I noticed he was moving closer as I talked, but I kept my eyes on the cutting board in front of me.
Then I felt that gentle tug on the back of my head, and it felt like my heart stopped beating. Such a tiny, innocent thing as he pulled gently on my curls, but it hit me all at once that he really had come back to me. I realized I had stopped talking, stopped moving; maybe I had even stopped breathing. I almost wanted to cry but fought it. I made myself take a breath and found that I was shaking.
“What’s wrong?” he whispered, almost in my ear.
“I missed this,” I said quietly.
“I missed you.” He stepped closer. “Jared, I want to try something. Like an experiment. Is that okay?”
“Last time you asked a question like that, it ended with you not speaking to me for almost two months.” I tried to say it lightly, but I didn’t quite pull it off.
He lightly wrapped his arms around me and put his face in my hair. “I know. I’m sorry.”
I thought about it for a minute. I had an idea what he had in mind. “I don’t want to be alone anymore. Whatever you want this to be between us, I can handle it. Just don’t leave me again.”
“Never. I promise. I learned my lesson.”
I took a deep breath, tried to slow my speeding heart, and turned to face him. “Okay.”
He pulled me close, then took my face in his hands, and looked into my eyes. I started to put my arms around him, but he tensed up and said, “No. Don’t do that.”
“I’m not allowed to touch you?”
“Not yet.”
“What do you want me to do then?”
“Stop talking.” He was so serious I might have laughed if my heart wasn’t pounding so hard. I closed my eyes and tried to relax.
He was combing his fingers through my hair, and I remembered my birthday—his hands in my hair and his weight against me, his lips against my neck, and then him walking out the door.
“Relax, Jared,” he whispered, and I pulled my mind away from that night. It would not end like that. Whatever happened, he had promised not to leave again. I felt him lean in. Felt his breath against my lips and then the faintest brush of his lips over my mouth— soft, warm lips against mine. It was all I could do to keep my hands at my side. Then he actually kissed me, firm but gentle, his lips just barely parted.
He never said I couldn’t kiss back.
I opened my mouth, leaned into him, and brushed the tip of my tongue against his lips.
Whatever wall he had been trying to keep between us crumbled away at that slight touch. He moaned, and suddenly he was really kissing me, his arms tight around me, his tongue touching mine, his body pressing hard against me. This time, he didn’t object when I put my arms around him.
An eternity later, he pulled back a little. One hand was in my hair, his other arm around my waist, and his forehead was against mine.
“Was that the result you were expecting?” I asked breathlessly. He closed his eyes but didn’t pull away. He took a deep breath and just barely shook his head. “No.”
“You didn’t think you would like it.”
This time, a slight nod. “At the very least, I thought it would be like some of the women I’ve kissed: pleasant but uninspiring.” That made me smile. “And instead…?”
“Oh God.” His breath was shaky. He looked into my eyes and smiled back. “ Very inspiring.”
I pulled him to me and kissed him again, and his response was fierce and urgent. It felt almost like an attack that I couldn’t quite fend off. His tongue was pushing into my mouth. He had a handful of my hair, gripped so tight that I couldn’t move my head
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