When It Holds You

by Nicki Elson

  “The girls are going to freak when I tell them I’m moving out, but it was a sweet deal living there—I’m sure they’ll find someone else fast.”

  “Maybe I should toss my name into their hat.”

  “Don’t even think about it.” She glanced toward the clock in the kitchen. “Guess I’d better get moving if we’re going to meet my agent at eleven.” She squirmed out of his hold and grabbed the clothes he’d offered her. Maneuvering underneath the sheet, she slipped them on without giving him even a peek of her naked form.

  Cliff dropped her off in front of her house, then parked and walked to a nearby diner, where he sat at the counter and checked his work e-mails while he drank coffee and ate eggs and toast. Before long, Jo bounced into the restaurant. Despite her complaints about sleeping on his mattress, she looked fresh and energetic. With her hair pulled to the top of her head in a short, spiky ponytail, she wore only a light dusting of makeup. Cliff’s smile went wider when he noticed she still wore the Blue Devils sweatshirt he’d given her that morning.

  She handed him a brown paper grocery bag. “Here’s your sweat pants, but I’m keeping the shirt for a while.”

  “Looks good on you.” He winked. “But I told you I’d pick you up at your place. You were supposed to text when you were ready.”

  “Oh, please, I can walk a few blocks.” She sat on the stool next to him.

  “Do you want something to eat?”

  “No time for that. I wolfed down a bowl of cereal at my place.”

  Cliff took the last bite of his breakfast. After swallowing, he said, “Karen, who you met last night, will be officially named partner in a couple of weeks. I’d like to put together a celebratory dinner, about twenty, twenty-five people. Do you think the Robb Inn could accommodate us?”

  “Is mid-week okay?”

  “It’s preferred.”

  “Let me double-check the calendar when I go in tonight, but we can usually fit in a party of that size on a Wednesday or Thursday.”

  “Perfect.” Cliff grabbed the bill. “Can I at least get you a coffee to go?”

  Jo scrunched her nose and ruffled the top of his hair like he was a little kid. “I can get my own coffee.”

  “Let me rephrase—I’m getting you a coffee.” He stood and kissed her forehead. On his way to the register to settle his tab and order two coffees to go, he straightened his hair.

  “Fine, but I’m buying lunch,” Jo said, following close behind and reaching up to mess with his hair again.

  The gleaming wood floors of the unfurnished loft condo reflected the sunlight pouring in through a row of windows along one wall. The view was of the brick building directly across the street.

  “I kind of still love it,” Jo said to her realtor. She’d crossed her arms over her chest, as if trying to be cool, but bounced on her heels. “What do you think, Cliff?”

  He ran his hand along the bumpy surface of a thick concrete support that stood between two of the windows. “It’s pretty cool.” His eyes rose to the unfinished twelve-foot ceiling. The beams had been stained pale gray.

  Jo stepped over and wrapped an arm around his waist, directing his attention to the windows. “Sunlight used to be important for typesetting, so that’s why so many of these buildings are situated to let the sun in. It’s one reason I decided to focus my search here.” She moved her face closer to the window and turned sideways. “From this angle, you can see the L—kind of like watching a toy train from up here.” Her light eyes sparked when she said it.

  Her childlike enthusiasm had rubbed off on Cliff. With the furniture cleared out, he’d begun plotting layouts. “The TV could go there—” he gestured toward an adjacent wall “—and that little cubby would be perfect for storing gaming equipment. I think we might even be able to squeeze a king-size into the bedroom. A queen at the very least.”

  “Oh, could we?” Jo asked, arching a manicured eyebrow.

  “Definitely a queen,” the realtor, Liz, agreed. “A king could work, though you’d be giving up dresser space.”

  Cliff nodded but didn’t respond. Somewhere between the updated kitchen and the in-unit washer and dryer, he’d gone from imagining the loft as Jo’s place to picturing the two of them living there together. It was too soon for that. Way too soon. Though he was quickly realizing how far the events of the night before had catapulted his feelings for her.

  “You were smart to hold off on making a bid,” Liz said. “As you see, the previous owner’s since had to move out to a new location and has become more desperate. You can come in about ten percent lower than your maximum and I bet he’ll bite.”

  Cliff was impressed with his girlfriend’s shrewdness and the research she’d done in finding the place. Printer’s Row was an accessible location just south of the Loop in a small, comfortable neighborhood. The former publishing and printing buildings had been converted into residences with unique architectural elements, like the fat concrete pillar Cliff now leaned against. He had to clamp his lips together to stop from blurting out how much he’d love to live so close to the Harold Washington Library and its closed stacks of corporate law research. He didn’t want to repeat his mistakes of the past and scare Jo away by getting too serious too fast.

  “Let’s do it,” Jo said, her face blanching a shade lighter. Giving a determined nod, she shook her complexion back to its natural pallor.

  “I’ve got the paperwork right here.” Liz and Jo went to the kitchen counter, and Cliff detached himself, staying close to the window to watch city life six stories below. Today he’d realized it was more than laziness that had kept him from starting his own apartment search. He didn’t want to look for another place to live alone. He wanted to find a home where he could build a life with someone else. Someone like Jo.

  Out on the sidewalk under the carved stone archway of the building, Liz left them with a firm handshake. “I’ll call in the bid and let you know where we go from there. Don’t be alarmed if you don’t hear from me right away. He’s in the middle of a big move down south so it could be a few days.”

  When Liz strutted off down the street, Jo asked, “Want to check out the ’hood?”

  “Of course.”

  They wandered along the sidewalk hand-in-hand. Despite all the recent renovations, the buildings kept their original façades, preserving the neighborhood’s vintage feel. From many vantage points, the historic clock tower of Dearborn Station popped into view, like a compass—reminding Cliff of spotting the castle from the village in Castleabra. For a moment, he felt as if Loinerd and Claire had succeeded in merging their fantasy into reality. The condo would be her small, cozy lair.

  They stopped at a worn red-brick building for a late lunch, opting to eat outside under green umbrellas on the warm late-April day. As Jo jammed a forkful of salad into her mouth, Cliff took the opportunity to downplay his earlier “we.”

  “When I said that about the bed before, I only meant because I hope to be sleeping over once in a while.”

  “I figured.”

  He wasn’t sure, but he thought he might’ve detected a twinge of disappointment race across her features. “Not that it couldn’t ever mean more than that. It’s just…” It was time to come clean. “When I like someone, really like them, I tend to get ahead of myself, and that tends to ruin things. I don’t want to do that with you. I want to move at exactly the right pace.”

  A small smile twitched Jo’s lips. She jabbed at more greens and tilted her head forward, peering at him through her bangs, which showed almost ruby red in the sunshine. “You’re adorable when you’re flustered.”

  He chuckled, taking a sip of his beer. “Are you nervous about the bid?”

  She nodded. “I lowballed him, so he definitely won’t accept it. I just hope he comes back with a counter and doesn’t reject it outright.”

  “If he does reject, it’ll only mean it’s not the right place for you and that you’re destined for a better one.” It was the same logic he’d always convinced h
imself of after a breakup. “It sucks you have to go to work in a couple of hours.”

  Jo shrugged. “I’d rather be busy and distracted there than obsessing about how he’ll respond.”

  “I meant it sucks for me.”

  Under the table, she rubbed her ankle along the side of his calf. “Gonna miss me?”

  The suggestive flutter of her eyebrows had him casting aside his caution about pacing the relationship. “Come over after work.”

  “It’ll be late.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “And I have to get up in the morning to go back again. Plus, you’ve got work tomorrow, too.”

  “Come over tomorrow night.”

  “Cliff…” She shook her head but smiled. “I’m the grouchiest hag in the west after I work back-to-back late Friday and all-day Saturday shifts. All I’m suited for then is getting lost in a game for a few hours before going to bed.”

  “Game, you say—which one?”

  “Tomorrow? Probably Boundless Hunters.”

  Cliff grinned. “I’m loving that one. What do you say we reunite PlanetClaire and Loinerd in that universe?”

  “You want to join my party?”

  “Or you could join mine.”

  “Are you sure you’re ready to take that step?” Her question confirmed that until now, there’d been an unspoken pact to keep real life separate from their gaming lives. “It won’t be too many worlds colliding?”

  He wasn’t just falling in love with this girl, he was hurtling there. Asking him to compartmentalize and keep her out of any part of his life would be asking him to not be Cliff. “Let ’em all collide, baby.”

  Chapter 18

  AFTER A LONG RUN by the lake the next morning, Cliff went into the office. He didn’t mind being there on a Saturday. River South was quiet during the weekends, with hardly anyone else around and the phone not ringing. He could usually pound out more work than he did on a weekday. Besides, if he hadn’t gone into work, he knew he’d just be home staring at the clock and waiting for his online rendezvous with Jo.

  For the first time in weeks, he thought about calling Trish. He wanted her to know how happy he was with JoJo—not to rub it in her face but because he knew it would make her happy, too. The urge to tell her proved to him that their friendship had been genuine. It hadn’t just been an act while biding his time until the relationship turned romantic.

  Midday, Jo sent an excited text that the condo owner had counteroffered only slightly above her upper limit. She’d instructed her realtor to respond with another offer just below her max.

  I’d like to use the extra money for a bigger bed. ;)

  A few hours later, Cliff at last sat with a cold beer next to him on his coffee table. Headphones covered his ears as he listened to his beloved bark orders at the group. Her voice sounded different coming through the airwaves. He supposed that was why he hadn’t been tipped off about her identity during their earlier gameplay.

  As they carried out their quest, Cliff became absorbed in the prehistoric world, where his primary companion was a saber-toothed tiger. He’d made Jo laugh when his character had shown up wearing a loincloth over his armor. He’d gone in search of the skimpy man-diaper while he’d waited for her to get home from work.

  After eventually signing out of the game, he texted her.

  That was fun. Want to do it again tomorrow?

  I’d rather play with you in person.

  Yeah?

  Mhmm.

  Come over after work. Bring your laptop.

  That’s not the kind of play I was talking about.

  Can’t we do both?

  Jo arrived at his apartment late Sunday afternoon. She and Cliff spent the next few hours alternating between Boundless Hunters and shameless fondling. A foray into online arcade games turned into something that more resembled strip poker. JoJo won.

  To collect on her prize, she shimmied out of her boy shorts—the single article of clothing that had remained on between them. Cliff wasted no time paying up on his bet and buried his face between her legs, tasting his girlfriend for the first time. When he heard the whimpers he’d been waiting for, he dove in, giving way to the savage nature of the primordial man he’d portrayed in the game. Soon he wasn’t a man at all—he was a razor-toothed cat sucking and biting and driving his mate into a frenzy. Her hips bucked against him; her shrieks begged him for more and more until she erupted.

  Cliff nuzzled into her for a few final licks, then he sat back on his knees and pulled her onto him. It took only a few thrusts into her before she groaned again and began pumping on top of him like she’d never get enough. Their frantic pace continued longer than Cliff would’ve expected himself to last. He ignored the burning in his calves and his biceps as the gripped her wide hips, smacking her harder against him.

  Giving a final push, he shouted. The insides of his closed eyelids exploded into a riot of hot reds and oranges.

  JoJo’s sweaty form curved around him, her warm breath gusting into his ear. “Cliff,” she murmured. “Don’t break your lease. Let’s see where we are when it’s time to renew, and maybe…”

  He brought a hand to the back of her head, clenching it into the roots of her damp hair. “Move in together?”

  He felt her nod against his shoulder. “But let’s not talk about it until then, okay?”

  He lifted her head off his shoulder so he could peer straight into her eyes and make sure she was serious.

  “Do you think I’m crazy?” she asked.

  “I think you might be what I’ve been waiting for my whole life.” He crushed his mouth against hers, sealing their pact to move toward cohabitation without talking about it for the next eight months. Never before had he been so in sync both physically and emotionally with anyone.

  At the clang of an old-timey phone, Jo broke suction. Scrambling off his lap, she lunged toward her purse on the floor next to the couch. Within seconds, she sat on bent legs with one arm over her naked chest and the other holding her phone to her ear.

  “Hello, this is Jo…uh huh, yeah…oh, my God.” She left her heavy breasts to dangle as she threw a hand to the side of her face. “Wow—yay! This is terrific news…okay, sure…yes, tomorrow’s good. Two o’clock. See you then. You have a good rest of the night, too. Thanks for calling.”

  She clicked off and stared at the phone for a few seconds before turning toward Cliff. “He accepted the offer. I got the condo!”

  Cliff punched both fists into the air. “Yeah! I knew it. I knew it!” He was on his feet, making a pit stop in the bathroom to dispose of the condom and wash his hands. Then he went straight to his kitchen. “And to prove to you how much I knew it—check this out.” First he snatched two fluted crystal glasses out of a cabinet, and then he pulled a bottle of champagne from his fridge.

  Jo rose to her feet, amusement pinching her brow as she ran a hand through her messy hair. Her chest glistened with her sweat.

  “Y’know what?” Cliff said. “We don’t need no stinking glasses. Come on.” He set the crystal on the counter but kept hold of the bottle as he swung around the counter. Grasping onto Jo’s hand, he pulled her to the bathroom. “We’re going to toast your new acquisition in the shower.”

  “Did you really buy that bottle of champagne just for this?”

  “Of course I did. Get behind me.” He unwrapped the foil with the cork pointed toward the open doorway. Pushing his thumb at the base of the stopper, he popped it and handed her the fizzing bottle. She gulped down the first sip while he turned on the water and let it warm. Then he took a long pull from the bottle and guided his sweaty, beautiful, real-estate-owning girlfriend into the shower. Once they both stood in the porcelain tub, he covered the top of the bottle with his thumb and shook it.

  Jo screeched and spluttered when he poured foaming bubbles over her head. He pushed the tip of the bottle to her mouth, letting her take another long drink. Then they soaped each other up and laughed and drank and kissed and rinsed until
they’d drained the champagne.

  “Will you sleep over tonight?” Cliff asked, massaging her scalp as he tilted her head to let sheets of water wash away the shampoo. “I have to go to work in the morning, but you can hang out here as long as you want.”

  “I’d like that.” She wrapped her arms around his slippery waist.

  He bent her head back farther and kissed down the side of her throat. He wanted to tell her he loved her, but he hesitated. He didn’t know why. Maybe because he didn’t want to risk pushing too far and make her regret her tentative proposal to move in together. “I’m going to let you finish in privacy. See you out there.” He gave her one last soft kiss on the mouth and stepped out.

  He dried off and pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms before going to the kitchen. The champagne had started his head buzzing, and he wanted to keep that rolling. He poured an inch of scotch and while he took a swig, Jo’s phone vibrated on his counter. He glanced down, thinking it might be the realtor and saw instead that it was a text from Trish.

  “This is awkward,” he mumbled to himself. Neither he nor Jo had brought up her name since their first date.

  “What’s awkward?” Jo asked, stepping out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her. Cliff hadn’t noticed the shower shutting off.

  “Nothing. Trish texted. Want a beer—or some wine?”

  “What do you have in white?” Jo asked, picking up her phone and swiping the screen.

  Cliff stared into the fridge. The text had thrown him off more than it should’ve. He knew the two women were good friends, and he’d already come clean to Jo about his past feelings for Trish. There should be nothing awkward about the situation. “I have a chilled chardonnay.”