by Noelle Adams
She had to wipe a few tears away, no matter how much she told herself that this wasn’t anything to cry about.
No matter how right they all knew this was, it changed things in a very real way.
Something had ended.
Something was over.
Something that had been precious to Michelle.
Steve wrapped one arm around her shoulders. “Come on, kitten,” he murmured thickly. “Let’s go home.”
She nodded, unable to speak, and she’d pulled herself together by the time they reached their apartment.
“We could go to a movie or something if you don’t want to go up yet,” Steve said, when she hesitated at the entrance.
“No. I’m tired. I want to sit on the couch and not move.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do. We can find something to watch.”
It wasn’t as bad as she feared when they went into the apartment. Things were missing, but most of the familiar furniture and décor was still in place. She changed into her pajamas and got a bottle of water before curling up in the corner of the couch.
Steve had changed out of his jeans and into his favorite maroon-and-orange flannel pants, and he pulled up Netflix and started to browse.
They found a show they liked and had only watched through once, and they started from the first episode.
After an hour, Michelle got up to go to the bathroom. When she came back, she looked at Steve, who was slouched down on one side of the couch, his legs stretched long.
“What is it?” he asked, his hand poised on the remote to turn the show back on when she returned.
“Would you mind if... if I cuddle a little?”
“You don’t even have to ask.” He moved the remote into his left hand and raised his right arm. She sat down and leaned against him, folding her legs up on the couch to get comfortable.
She felt better this way. Cozy. Close to him. He kept his arm around her.
She watched through another whole episode and part of the following one, but at some point during that one she fell asleep.
When she woke up, there was a throw cushion in Steve’s lap, and her head was resting on it.
She sat up, startled and groggy. “Oh. Sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about.” He looked like he might have been warm, but he gave her an easy smile.
She searched his face but saw nothing that concerned her. He wasn’t stiff or awkward or uncomfortable. He looked warm and sleepy, but that was understandable. “Did you fall asleep too?” she asked.
“Yeah.” He rubbed his face. “I guess it’s been a long day. Do you want to finish this one? It’s only fifteen minutes in.”
“Yeah. Let’s finish this one, and we’ll call it a day.”
He put his arm around her again, so she leaned against him. He didn’t move the cushion right away, but he eventually threw it over onto the other side of the couch. Her hand was resting on his thigh, and it was firm and strong and big.
She loved the feel of it.
She loved the feel of his abs too—a little bit tighter than they used to be.
She loved the feel of all of him.
It was giving her definite ideas.
Her mind was still groggy from sleep, so maybe that explained it, but as the episode progressed, she had an increasingly hard time focusing on it.
All she was aware of was Steve.
Sitting so close to her.
Being so big and warm and real.
Being Steve.
And somehow just a little bit better—just a little bit more Steve—than he’d been before.
She knew what was wrong with her as her cheeks flushed and an ache started to throb below her belly.
But she also knew it was too much, too soon.
Steve might agree to have sex tonight.
He probably would.
But she wasn’t sure that was the best thing for them. Things were going so good. She wanted them to go good between them for a little longer.
Then maybe...
She wasn’t sure.
She’d been so sure it was hopeless between them less than two months ago. She was sure they hadn’t had even a glimmer of hope.
But now...
Maybe...
She wasn’t sure though, and she wasn’t going to make any more mistakes when it came to Steve.
So when the episode ended, she got off the couch and said good night to Steve. She wanted to hug him but didn’t. That might have led to something she wasn’t ready for.
Instead, she helped him turn off the lights, and then she went into her own room. She tried to distract herself with her phone but gave up pretty quickly.
Instead, she slid a hand down under her waistband and rubbed her swollen clit.
She thought she might get herself off in a quick rush, satisfying the worst of the ache. But it wasn’t enough. She didn’t want her hand. She wanted Steve inside her. She needed to feel him inside her. So she rearranged her body so she could slide two fingers inside her and pump them.
She moved her hips as she did, working up a rhythm that shook the bed a little. She was making little grunts but not very loud. There was no way Steve would be able to hear her from his room.
She might have said his name when she finally came, but she simply couldn’t help it.
As she sprawled on the bed afterward, breathless and at least partly sated, she acknowledged the truth.
She didn’t just want him.
She still loved him.
But until she knew that she was the person he wanted—the woman she was now and not who she used to be—then she wasn’t going to let them go any further than cuddling.
STEVE WENT TO HIS ROOM like a good boy.
It was harder than it should have been.
It was almost impossibly hard.
He’d been so turned on by having Michelle sleeping all over him that he’d had to put a cushion in his lap to hide it. He’d eventually managed to control his physical reaction, but the bone-deep need for her didn’t go away.
He thought—he hoped—she might have wanted him too.
He’d resolved not to make a move until she was ready, and he was determined to hold himself to it. She’d gone to bed, so she clearly wasn’t ready for anything more than cuddling with him on the couch.
Cuddling was better than nothing. At least she was letting him touch her again.
They were making progress. Things were going well. He just had to stay strong and not surrender to the temptation.
He brushed his teeth and got ready for bed, but before he climbed under the covers, he went back out into the dark hallway.
Michelle’s door was closed. She was probably in bed.
He needed to go to bed too.
Instead of going back into his room, he walked to her door.
He wouldn’t make a move on her. He would just tell her good night.
That was all.
He wasn’t there to initiate sex.
He just wanted to see her one more time before he slept.
He raised his hand to knock on her door but froze when he heard a sound.
Was she talking on the phone? Maybe to her parents?
That was a buzzkill, if anything was.
He listened again.
She wasn’t talking. She was...
His whole body clamped down around the realization when he finally processed what he was hearing.
She was...
It sounded like her bed was jiggling just a little. She was making little grunts he could barely hear. He got as hard as a rock again as he heard the sounds of her pleasuring herself.
She’d been turned on too.
He hadn’t known for sure, but he’d hoped.
Now he knew for sure.
They were in this together.
So what the hell were they doing, both of them turned on, with a closed door between them.
He started to knock on the door again. If she needed a release, then he could give her
one. They could find their release together.
He could take care of her, as he’d always wanted to do.
Before his knuckles could connect to the door, he forced his hand back down to his side.
No.
This was wrong.
If she’d wanted to be with him—all the way, with no doubts or hesitations—she wouldn’t have gone to her room to do this on her own. She’d be with him right now.
She needed space. She needed freedom. And forcing his way in right now would be exactly what he’d promised her—and promised himself—he wouldn’t do.
This was private.
This wasn’t for him.
It wasn’t about him.
He was trying to convince himself to leave and go back to his room when he heard her gasp, “Steve,” from the room.
His knees almost buckled, and he had to jerk away from the door before he opened it.
She was thinking about him.
She might not be ready for him yet, but she wanted to be.
He finally got the will to go back to his room, and then he stripped off his clothes and got into the shower. He jerked himself off with quick efficiency, but he kept hearing her say his name as she came, and after a few minutes he was hard again, so he had to take care of it another time.
He felt better when he got out of the shower. Not satisfied but better.
And more than better. Hopeful.
He might be going to bed alone tonight, but maybe it wouldn’t last forever.
Nine
THE NEXT DAY, STEVE woke up feeling hopeful. Excited.
Michelle was working on one of her classes at the kitchen island when he got up. She was focused on her work, but she smiled at him warmly, so she clearly didn’t feel awkward or withdrawn after yesterday.
He got his coffee and his newspaper and sat beside her. “How long have you been up?”
“Half hour or so.”
“Sleep okay?”
She glanced over at him. “Yeah. Not bad. What about you?”
“Pretty good.”
The corners of her mouth twitched up. “Nice weather out there today.”
He did his best not to smile. “Yes. Although it looks like it might rain later today.”
“How about those Hokies?”
He laughed. He couldn’t help it. “I was just checking to see how you’re doing. I didn’t mean to hit you with small talk first thing in the morning.”
“I know. Thank you.” She was laughing too, and she leaned over and rested her head against his shoulder for just a moment before she straightened up.
The sweet gesture nearly did Steve in.
Since it wouldn’t be at all appropriate for him to grab her, kiss her, and declare his undying devotion before he’d finished his first cup of coffee, he just grinned at her like a fool.
“You don’t have to work today, do you?” he asked.
“No. Thank goodness. My feet need a break.”
“Do you have a lot more work to do on your classes?”
“No. I should finish this reading up in an hour or so, and then I have nothing planned for the rest of the day.” She took a sip of coffee, her eyes focused on him over the rim. “What about you?”
“I’ve got nothing. Do you want to find something to replace the couch?”
“That would be great. I hate that gaping hole in the room.”
“Me too.”
“I’ll call Chloe and see if she can go too.”
“Perfect.”
So he read his newspaper and she did the reading for her class, and Steve considered it a very good morning.
MICHELLE HAD A VERY good morning.
Yesterday had been an ending, but today felt like a new beginning, and she was excited about what it might bring.
She and Steve hung out at the apartment until ten, and then they picked up Chloe and all three of them went to a discount furniture outlet and started looking.
They had a lot of fun, laughing and arguing about the different options. Steve wanted to get a couch that had reclining seats built into each end, but it was too expensive. He started to offer to pay for more than his share—Michelle saw the words forming in his mouth—but he bit them back.
She saw it happen, and it flooded her with warm appreciation.
They compromised on a sectional that was dramatically marked down. One end had a recliner built in so Steve still got what he wanted.
As they were waiting for the salesperson to write up the sale, Michelle went over and slid her hands slowly around his waist, enjoying the feel of his firm abdomen beneath her palms as she did. She pressed her front against his in a light hug.
He returned it, tilting his head down to nuzzle her shoulder. “What’s this for?”
“Just because.”
He straightened up, and so she did, pulling back enough to meet his eyes. “What is it for really?”
“For not pushing.”
His mouth softened. “I’m trying to do better. You know, I never meant to pressure you or not really listen to you, even before.”
“I know you didn’t. That’s why I appreciate how you’re being now.”
“I want to do right by you.” His voice was slightly hoarse.
She swallowed hard. Hugged him again. “You do,” she said against his shirt.
They hugged for a long time, right there in the middle of the furniture outlet. When the salesperson returned with the invoice to take them back to pay, they pulled apart, slightly sheepish.
Chloe gave Michelle a discreet wink as they went back, so she wasn’t surprised when they stopped into the restroom afterward before heading to their car and Chloe asked, “So is there anything you want to tell me?”
There were two stalls in the restroom, and they’d each taken one. So Michelle had to answer through the walls of the stall. “About what?”
“You know what. There’s an awful lot of hugging going on for you and Steve to still be broken up.”
“I... I don’t know.”
“If you really don’t know, then you better be careful. I’m not sure how Steve would handle losing you again.”
Michelle thought about that as she finished peeing and flushed the toilet.
When she came out to wash her hands, Chloe did too. “We’re taking it slow,” she said, answering Chloe’s comment at last.
“That’s smart. Everyone in the world knows that you two belong together, but no sense to rush things. Wait until you’re ready.”
“That’s what I’m trying to do. I want to be fair to him. I don’t want him to end up with someone who isn’t what he always wanted, just because I’ve gone through so many changes lately.”
Chloe rolled her dark eyes. “Oh please. That man is so in love with you that it oozes out of his pores. It always has.”
“He was—”
“Don’t even start with that. I get that you feel different, and I’m so proud of everything you’ve done lately. But you aren’t a new person. You’re still you. You’re just a you who’s more of who you want to be. I’m as much your friend now as I was before you started making changes. I’m just happier because you seem happier. If Steve loved you before—and, believe me, he loved you like crazy—then how much more is he going to love you now, when you’re happier and more fulfilled and more of who you were always meant to be.”
Excitement and emotion shuddered through Michelle. She hugged her arms to her chest. “You think so?”
“Anyone with a pair of eyes in their heads would think so. He’s even more in love now. He’s so in love he can hardly contain it. You have nothing to worry about regarding that.”
Michelle smiled at her friend, suddenly realizing she was ready for one more thing to change.
AS HE WALKED BACK INTO their apartment that afternoon, Steve felt strangely breathless.
They’d dropped Chloe back off at home, and then they’d stopped by a grocery store to restock their refrigerator and pantry.
Now they we
re alone in the apartment.
They’d have this place to themselves for another week until Chloe moved in on Saturday. They could do anything they wanted until then.
They could have sex with the bedroom door open.
They could have sex right here against the wall.
But Michelle still hadn’t signaled that she was ready for sex.
He was still hopeful. She’d been very touchy all morning, and he didn’t think she’d do that if there wasn’t a good chance that something would change very soon.
But he still had to leave it to her to make the first move.
They put up the groceries and then went into the living room to discuss where to position their new sectional.
It should have been a simple conversation, but it wasn’t.
They didn’t agree.
Michelle wanted to make it fit in the space left by the old couch so that nothing else in the room would have to change.
“But, like I said before, if we put it here, it’s going to leave the recliner end of it sticking way out into the walkway,” Steve said, trying not to sound impatient after the discussion had gone on for ten minutes with no progress.
“So we can just push it back farther toward the windows.” Michelle moved over to the empty space and waved her arms to indicate the placement of the sectional.
“Then the other end won’t be able to see the TV.” He tried to keep his voice calm and easy, but it was edged with frustration. “It’s not the end of the world to change the whole setup of the room.” He moved across the living area and waved his arms the way Michelle had done. “Look. Sectional here. Recliner end here. Other couch where you’re standing. Chairs here and here. Plenty of seating, and it will balance out the room.”
“I don’t care about balance.”
“Michelle,” he groaned. He knew he should just go along with it so she’d stay happy and affectionate, but she was clinging to the old room setup as a way of not letting go of something that had changed.
“Don’t Michelle me.”
“What the hell does Michelle-ing you mean?”
“You know what it means. It means you think you’re right and I’m wrong.” She was angry, and her cheeks were flushed.