Calm Like Home

by Clark, Kaisa

  I squeal and pull away from him, feigning indignation. He cocks his head sweetly to the side, eyeing me intently.

  “What? It’s true!” He pulls me back against him and kisses me softly, mumbling against my mouth, “I blame the skirt.”

  As we leave the bear habitat, he takes my hand to lead the way. “There’s something I want to show you,” he says simply, his eyes glimmering. “It’s uniquely suited to your tastes.”

  I have no idea what he means but follow after him. We arrive at a tiny bamboo hut situated amidst an embankment of trees, the sign above it inscribed with the words Delightfully Decadent Desserts, which are flanked by two melting double-dip ice cream cones.

  Warm adoration rises thick in my chest as I realize precisely how much thought he put into bringing me here today. When I glance up, he’s grinning warmly, his smile saying, I know you, my heart saying, you do.

  Adam orders a mint chocolate cone. I go for the double chocolate fudge. We stroll slowly along the sidewalk, Adam’s hand in mine, my head leaning against his shoulder, awestruck amazement filling up my brain. When we approach a secluded bench near a duck-filled pond he sits, pulling me down beside him, draping my legs across his lap. He wraps one arm around my shoulders, the other trails casually down my shin, his fingers singing over my skin.

  I feel the adoration clawing at my chest, yearning to burst free. I want to tell him what he means to me. I want to sing it to the sky. Adam Westbrook, you amaze me like no other. You fill me up. You are the truest thing I’ve ever known.

  My heart thunders in my chest, my palms growing clammy at the thought of confessing the sheer magnitude of my feelings for him. Breathe, Alexa. Find some words. Any words. He should know he is astounding. Someone needs to tell him in case he’s never been told before.

  “Adam,” I finally whisper, my voice betraying me. He looks at me, eyes full and round. Say it, Alexa, my brain hisses. “Thank you,” I manage. “This was perfect.” You are perfect.

  “Almost,” he breathes with a hint of a smile. “I wanted to incorporate your three favorite things.”

  “I think you did.” Your eyes. Your smile. Being with you.

  “The bears and satisfying your sweet tooth were easy. But I couldn’t think of a good way to get math equations involved, outside of bringing flashcards in my pocket.”

  I burst out laughing. “I do love a good equation.”

  He brings his lips to my ear, murmuring, “Two plus two, Lex.”

  I moan with exaggerated delight.

  “Oh yeah, five times five,” he grunts.

  I throw my head back, fierce laughter bubbling from between my lips. I finally meet his gaze. His eyes are brimming with amusement and something more.

  “Seriously. How does a girl like you become a math major?”

  “You mean how am I so smart and sexy?” My tone is all sharp sarcasm, but his face is earnest when he says, “Exactly.”

  I lean in to kiss his lips but he nudges my face up with his nose until my eyes meet his.

  “I'm serious, Lex. Why math?” His voice is soft, his brown eyes shining, looking so sincere.

  I shrug, matching my tone to his. “I’ve always loved solving for x. I like finding the right answer, knowing there is one.”

  He's grinning adorably, eyes and lips all curling up at the edges, so I go on. I tell him how I took extra math classes as electives in high school, how I used to do Annabelle’s homework for fun. At that he laughs, beautifully, deeply, causing my whole chest to swell, soaking in the sound.

  “Then I got to college and realized the beauty that is statistics.”

  “Statistics?” he asks, his voice rising in disbelief.

  I nod. “I like knowing the likelihood an event will happen.”

  He smirks and presses his forehead to mine. “What’s the likelihood I'm going to kiss you right now?”

  I lean back to scrutinize his face. “Oh, it's definitely statistically significant. A near certainty.”

  He laughs and presses his lips to mine. “Bingo.”

  “So we've established I'm a math nerd. Do numbers also get you excited?”

  “No,” he says resolutely.

  “So what is it then?” How have we known each other this long and we’ve never talked about his major? It hits me then, that we’ve talked about everything under the sun, everything but what matters.

  “Pre-med.” It comes out a sigh, maybe a shudder. And that's all he says. He doesn't go on. I raise my eyebrows. “Like your parents?”

  “Not exactly.”

  I meet his eyes, and where they were soft and light an instant ago, they are firm now, closed off. I know there’s more to this story. I also know he's not going to say anything else. And I won't push him. I know all about not having the right words to talk about something. It’s the story of my life.

  I take his hand and kiss the back. I kiss the tips of each finger, the calloused edges. I press my lips to his skin in the hope he’ll know I don’t care that he can’t elaborate right now. “One math nerd and one science nerd. We're quite the pair.”

  When I glance up at him his mouth is slightly parted, a half-smile edging out. His eyes are narrowed yet soft and he looks surprised. My eyes flick back and forth between his, trying to read his expression.

  “You’re something else, Clausen.” With that he tugs me off the bench, wrapping an arm around my shoulder, and steers me towards his car.

  As we’re driving back, I decide it’s time to have a little fun with him. When we stop at a red light, I lock eyes with him and give him my best attempt at bedroom eyes. Very slowly, I slide my fingertips over my chest, grazing my stomach, then down my thighs to the hem of my skirt. I run my fingers back up my thighs, raking my skirt up as I go. Adam is staring at me eagerly, watching each move I make with an intensity that lights me up all over. My skirt pulls up around my hips, exposing the racy panties I bought just for him. They are white lace with strategically placed floppy bows on either hip, the dainty pink ribbon snaking down around my thighs. Adam’s mouth drops open.

  A car behind us honks and he fixes his eyes on the road, saying firmly, “We need to get back to your place as quickly as possible.”

  He steals a sideways glance, his eyes flicking down to the skirt now situated neatly over my legs. “I have big plans for that skirt.”

  “You like the skirt, Adam?” I blink over at him, feigning surprise.

  “I like the skirt very much, Alexa.”

  I squeal as he accelerates, the momentum pinning me to the seat. He weaves expertly in and out of traffic then takes an on-ramp at dizzying speed. I grip the door handle, giggling with excitement. He glances over at my hand. “Don't worry, this baby grips like a dream.”

  I grin right back at him, eyes blazing. “I trust you.” And I do, completely.

  When we finally get to my apartment he lifts me in his arms and kicks the door shut behind us. I wrap my arms around his neck as he carries me over to the couch. He kisses me hard and pushes the skirt up around my hips. “I need to get a better look at these.” He eyes the lacy panties with obvious delight. “These are nice. Very nice. Too bad I have to take them off.”

  He presses over me and I lean into him, feeling him everywhere, exploring me, igniting me with his touch, his gaze, his kiss. Never before have I been so attracted to someone. Never before have I felt such reckless abandon. I'm a rag doll, limp and lifeless, despite the explosion of sensation I feel all around me. I can't move. I can hardly breathe. All I can do is flick my eyes over the length of him and savor the mess he's made of me.

  It’s after dark when I finally turn to him and say, “How about that swim?”

  His eyes meet mine, brimming with excitement and he nods his head. “I think I have some basketball shorts in my car.”

  He leaves to retrieve them and I change into a bathing suit. Unlike last time, I can choose a swimsuit for the occasion. I decide on a turquoise and white string bikini that ties at my neck and hips. I wi
nd a large beach towel around me and slide my feet into my flip-flops by the door.

  We snake our way through the buildings hand in hand, picking our way across the dimly lit sidewalks. It’s a calm July night and there’s hardly any wind, making the night air almost eerily quiet. It’s completely dark inside the enclosure with the exception of soft lights dotting the perimeter of the pool. They cast long shadows out over the water, bathing the surface in a muted, peaceful glow.

  I follow Adam into the water, watching as it covers first his shins, then his thighs, then his stomach. The water curls and laps around us, shimmering in the moon's reflection. It crests and falls as we slowly edge deeper and deeper. The only sound is our bodies gently gliding through the water.

  When it meets his shoulders, he reaches for me. His eyes are milky sweet, his touch smooth as chocolate as it glides over my skin. For once he isn't smiling. His lips are perfectly relaxed, barely parted, his eyes transfixed and wide. He's just watching me, bobbing mere inches away, a look of pure contentment written on his face. His hand edges to my waist. Then he's pulling me closer, closer, until his lips meet mine and his wet hands cup either side of my face.

  When he pulls away he whispers, “Who are you?”

  His voice is tinged with reverence, his eyes narrowed in soft scrutiny. His hands are still cradling my face, droplets softly splashing back into the water below. I kiss his palms, his chin, his shoulders. I wrap him in my arms, flatten myself against his chest. He cranes his head backwards until his gaze locks with mine. The dark of his eyes seeps into me, all of me, as if exploring every nook and cranny. And I wonder if he sees it nestled there in my chest, cradled deep in my soul, how much he means to me.

  “You. Are. Wonderful.” His voice is low, barely audible, the words slow and smooth as each one rolls off his tongue. A smile breaks onto my face, surprised at the honesty in his voice, the awe in his eyes, the way he doesn't look away, not even for a second. Finding my hands underwater, he presses his palms flat against mine, winding his fingers between each of my own.

  “You amaze me,” he breathes.

  “I'm yours.” The words flow out of me, simple and true. And for once they are the right words. I know I've never said anything more honest, ever. My heart, my love, my body, it’s all for him, there for the taking. All I know is I never want him to let me go.

  Chapter 11

  The intensity of our late night pool excursion stays with me, lingers fresh on my mind. I went into this expecting nothing. Sure I’d hoped to be more than friends, would’ve settled for a fling, but I never expected this complete enrapture, never this maddening pull to always be closer. I’m drawn to him in every way I can be. I want every piece of him all over me. I want to know every inch, explore every bit of who he is, give him every last bit of me, completely coalesce until there’s nothing left between us.

  The realization slams into me, awakens an overwhelming panic at the thought of him going away. I’ve been so wrapped up in his presence I allowed myself to forget the reality of the situation. I completely evaded the fact that our time together is limited, that there’s a perpetual looming countdown to goodbye, each second ticking slowly by until the end. And now I’m suddenly so aware of how short the summer really is, how fleeting the late nights and the warm breeze are, how the cold air beckons, driving him away.

  I know I should talk to him, to find out what this is and whether he wants to try to make it work beyond the glow of the summer sun, but the words get tangled up in my throat. They skirt away from my tongue, crash against the backs of my teeth instead of pouring from between my lips. Our communication style has been that of shared glances and dancing fingertips and the sweetest of kisses, none of which conveys what I know I need to say. No matter how I try, words don’t seem to accurately capture what this summer has meant to me and how badly I don’t want him to go. God, with everything in me, I don’t want him to go.

  When I walk into Milano’s for my next shift, I spot Adam and Damien chatting by the line. Adam catches sight of me over Damien’s shoulder and his face breaks into a warm smile.

  “One more month!” Damien is saying. “Your birthday’s going to be insane! Seth and I already have it planned. We’re getting a keg, taking you to the titty bar. You better get ready, son!”

  “Just another day in paradise,” Adam jokes back, eyes still fixed steadfastly on me.

  I clock in and stroll over, giving him a curious look as Damien walks off with his table’s food. “You’re a Virgo?”

  “You better believe it. September fourth, baby.”

  “No way,” I say shaking my head, a disbelieving grin spreading over my lips. “You’re joking, right?”

  “What?” he asks, studying my face with intrigue. He pulls his wallet from his back pocket and flashes me his ID. There it is plain as day, September fourth. I look up at him, a mixture of hesitation and astonishment playing across my face. I don’t say a word, just take my own ID out of my purse and hand it to him.

  He takes the card and examines it, curious what I’m up to. I can tell the instant he notices it. His face relaxes and his mouth slightly parts.

  “September fifth,” he breathes.

  He stares into my eyes for a long time and it’s like he’s trying to work something out. A half-smile plays on his lips and finally he says, “Actually that makes perfect sense.”

  “And why would that be?” I ask, raising an eyebrow quizzically.

  He pauses for an instant, never taking his eyes off mine.

  “Because we’re connected. Where I end, you begin.”

  His words level me a thousand times over. I want more than anything to reach out and kiss him, but I’m frozen there, dumbstruck. He gives me a what-it’s-the-truth smile, hands me back the ID, then disappears towards his tables.

  The hostess quickly seats my first table and I’m forced to collect myself. After greeting them and bringing their drinks over, I approach the computer on the line to put their order in. Adam catches sight of me and comes to stand at my side. My hand is resting on the counter and he slowly, almost imperceptibly, begins running his fingers lightly along my skin. They softly trace over mine, moving gently over the palm, up to my fingertips and down again.

  I smirk up at him. “I’m trying to concentrate here.”

  “And I’m trying to distract you. Who’s winning?”

  I playfully push his chest.

  “So what’re you doing later, Lex?”

  “I was hoping I’d have a hot date.”

  “You were, huh? Do you have some stud already picked out?” He nods towards a portly older man seated alone at a nearby table. “How about him?”

  “You’ve got me. That’s my sugar daddy.”

  “Man, I’m feeling a little jealous. I was hoping you’d want to hang out with me.”

  “I might be able to make arrangements,” I say flirtatiously. I glance up at him then add, “You know, it’s times like these I really wish I could wink properly. There are so many times when a wink most appropriately conveys a message. I feel so excluded.”

  He looks at me puzzled. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Oh, believe me, I am. I can’t do it.”

  “Come on, it can’t be that bad. Let me see”

  “Adam, I’m telling you that you’ll never look at me the same again. Please don’t make me.” My reply only intrigues him further.

  For whatever reason my face just doesn’t move that way. I have to focus intently to even close one eye at a time, and when I do, my face constricts very slowly and deliberately, my mouth stretching into a wide O shape. This results in the side of my face scrunching up in a way that resembles bitter beer face, only around the winking eye instead of the mouth. It’s quite alarming for the recipient of the wink, which is why I never pull this particular move out. But Adam is insistent, and I can never resist his charm for long, so when I finally demonstrate my winking skills he watches this chain of events play out over my face.

 
He bursts out laughing once my right eye finally closes and shrieks, “Good God, Clausen. That’s terrible!”

  “I warned you!” I’m laughing uncontrollably now, unable to stop myself.

  “Come on, bear, can I get an ‘oh my goodness’?” he asks mid-chuckle. He’s clutching his stomach, eyes sparkling, a huge grin plastered on his face.

  “Stop it, Adam! My cheeks hurt from smiling so much.” I playfully push him away, still laughing.

  “Do it again!”

  “I will not! Before long that’s all you’ll think of when you see me. I don’t want you to stop coming around. Then what will I do?”

  I freeze, realizing what I said and how close it borders on the truth, of my terror that he’ll leave for school and that’ll be the end of us. He glances away quickly, averting his eyes, and quietly mumbles, “Well at least we won’t find out today” as he turns and walks away.

  When I get to my car after work I see a slip of server paper discretely tucked beneath my windshield wiper. It’s covered in an upright, almost illegible scrawl that could only be from one person. I smile to myself as I read it.

  Miss Alexa, if you’re not too busy later, I was thinking maybe, just maybe, I could see you.

  I immediately text him two words.

  Come over.

  I feel like I haven’t seen him in ages, when in all actuality it’s only been a matter of hours. When he arrives at my apartment he’s carrying a DVD. I know instantly what it is and burst out laughing. “Oh no!”

  “It's time.” He grins widely and waggles the DVD case at me. “I hope this doesn't make you reconsider your stance on your favorite animal.”

  In addition to bringing the DVD, Adam has also replenished our stock of Ben and Jerry’s. He grabs a tub of Strawberry Cheesecake and pops the rest in the freezer, then sets us up to watch the documentary. He reclines into the corner of my narrow couch and I sit between his legs, pressing my back into his chest and tilting my head to kiss him. I drag my fingers up his thighs and feel him chuckle against my mouth.

  “I won’t be distracted, Alexa. We’re watching this thing.”