Invitation

by Christina Hoffman

  “I draw pictures. I always have. Lately they've all been of you.” He was flipping through the book, pushing pictures at me. I closed my eyes.

  “I was afraid that this morning was going to be it for us. You were there in the bed looking more beautiful than I've ever seen you look, with this sweet little smile on your face.” He sat down, trying to catch his breath. He was panting, trying to talk quickly before I shut him down.

  “I couldn't draw it fast enough. I needed a picture, to remind me. So I could finish my sketch later. I wanted something to remember you by.”

  I kept silent, making sure he was finished. It was creative. He was fast on his feet, and quick with a clever lie. I'll give him that.

  “Get out of my house.”

  “Oh, Maddie. Don't end it like this.”

  I said it again, calmly and coldly. “Get away from me. Get out of here.” I stayed curled up, knees under my chin, arms around my legs. I didn't move at all.

  Liam seemed to be trying to say more. He kept opening his mouth and closing it. I couldn't wait for him to shut up and leave me alone. Finally, he stood and walked out.

  I put my head down on my knees, ready to cry again; but nothing came out. I was too tired. There were no tears left.

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  I climbed back into bed. It smelled like Liam, which made me feel sick, so I got up. I showered. I forced myself to eat some cereal.

  I had another new rotation starting that day.

  I envy all those great characters in books and on TV who get to just fall apart and stay in their apartments eating too much and watching sad movies. I wonder if there really are people like that in real life.

  The people I know have to go to work. There is a schedule, and if I don't show up, someone else does a double shift. Someone else works forty-eight hours straight.

  If I messed up, the people I worked with would pay for it; and then I'd get a bad grade for being unreliable. There's no room for weakness, not physical illness, and certainly not a broken heart.

  I went into my bedroom and stripped the sheets off the bed. If I were rich, I would have thrown them away. I would have thrown the whole bed away if I could.

  I got dressed and did my hair. I packed up my things.

  I moved to the window to crack it open a little. The room was full of pain and ghosts; it needed airing out. My toe hit something on the floor and I looked down to see Liam's sketchpad.

  It was like it glowed with radioactive menace. I knew not to touch it, but it was nearly impossible to resist.

  I picked up the book. I wanted to walk straight out to the dumpster and throw it in. Of course I didn't do that. I sat on the edge of the bed and opened to the front page.

  It was a drawing of a young boy and girl. They were on the swings, heads tilted back, mouths open in wide smiles. They seemed almost alive.

  Liam was so good at this. There was so much about him that I didn’t know.

  I kept flipping. There were wonderful portraits of faces. I didn't know any of them, until I flipped to a page with Alex on it. He was burning down the hallway in his wheelchair. I smiled, remembering our meeting on my first day of work.

  I dreaded seeing the pictures closer to the back of the sketchbook. I was sure there would be no pictures of me at all, proving that Liam was a liar. Or worse, there would be something vile and disgusting.

  I turned the page and froze. Liam had drawn a picture of us on the bridge. It was from behind, how he must have imagined we looked. I could see our bodies leaning into one another, trying to be closer but keeping it safe. It was shaded dark, and the lights sparkled around the couple in the picture. Us. He had captured exactly how I had felt that night.

  The next picture was of my face on a pillow. I was asleep. The entire picture spoke of 'peace'.

  The next drawing was a profile of my face. My head was thrown back, eyes closed, mouth open. Hair cascaded down my back. Pleasure was in every line.

  I couldn't bear to look at all of them. I flipped to the last drawing.

  It was of me, again. This morning. I was on my side, blanket removed. I was naked, but it was discreet. My right arm covered most of my breasts. I was tilted slightly forward, so my right leg covered my pelvis.

  It was a beautiful picture. Beams of sunlight peeked through the shades. Every curve of the sheets, of my body, was sensual. And something else. There was something in the picture that I couldn't identify. Some feeling it evoked. It was sexy in a way, but it was more than that, too.

  I ran my fingers down the lines of the body in the picture and pretended I was Liam, watching me sleeping in the bed, and then copying me here, on the page.

  I suddenly knew exactly what the picture was saying.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  I scrambled to gather the rest of my things together, and shoved my arms into my coat. I was running down the hallway before my shoes were even completely on.

  I wanted to run all the way to the hospital, but got stopped at the first set of lights. It gave me a chance to text Liam. All I could say was 'write back a.s.a.p.’ and then it was time to run again. All the way to the hospital I kept trying to text and call. He didn't answer.

  What if I was too late? What if he had already told his advisor he would go? What if he had just slammed the door on us, tired of the drama and wanting to just get on with his own life? That's what I had done when things got tough.

  I got to the hospital and tried to decide which way to go first. Alex! Of course he would see how Alex was doing. I ran for the elevators and pushed the floor for PICU. I stopped running, it seemed disrespectful, but I walked really quickly into Alex's room. No Liam.

  “Hello, dear,” said Mrs. Mathis. I smiled at her at looked over at Alex. His eyes were open, those gorgeous eyelashes framing the greenest of eyes.

  “Hi you!” I moved over to his bed. “I really want to talk to you, but I have to do some things first.” He nodded. “And, uh, by the way, have you seen Liam. Dr. Mason?”

  “Yes, we have,” piped in Mrs. Mathis. “He looked dreadful. Is he ill?”

  I didn't know how to answer that, and time was short. “I'll be back later. I've really got to go.” As I raced away, I looked down at my phone.

  Would he have gone straight to his advisor's office from here? Before he had a chance to change his mind? I hoped not, but figured he probably would have. That's what I would have done; committed myself to something I couldn't get out of, to force myself into a decision I didn't really want to make.

  I wasn't exactly sure where his advisor's office was. I tried to remember his name. Liam had mentioned it once in passing, but it had been a common name. Nothing about it really stood out.

  I went to the administration wing and just started racing past the doors, looking at the names. I was red-faced and sweaty, and verging on desperate. I kept hoping Liam would have mercy on me and page me back, but there was only radio silence.

  Maybe he couldn't respond? Maybe he was in a meeting with all the hospital bigwigs, who were right now patting him on the back and telling him how prestigious the opportunity was, how fortunate he was, and how much they'd miss him . . .

  I passed door after door. Jesus, how many administrators did one hospital need? And then I heard him. I heard Liam's sexy low grumble. Which door? I pressed my ear to several until I found it. Campbell. Right! Dr. Campbell.

  Before I could stop myself I banged on the door. Not a knock. A bang. The voices stopped. The door opened, and there stood Liam. He was still my beautiful man, but he did look ill. Ashen and beaten down.

  I looked at Dr. Campbell. “Excuse me. I need him for a minute.”

  I started to pull Liam out as Dr. Campbell stood up. “Young lady! We're in the middle of something here.”

  “Oh, I'm aware of that.” I pulled Liam all the way out and shut the door.

  Liam stared down at me. “What the hell are you doing?” He put his hand on the doorknob, to go back in. I grabbed it and started pulling
him down the hall. I found the door to the stairwell, and we went into it.

  I was out of breath, trying to figure out what to say. I had been in such a hurry, I hadn't had time to organize my thoughts into anything another person could possibly understand.

  I put my hands on his chest to steady myself and took some deep breaths. “I looked at the drawings.” I looked into his eyes.

  “Okay. Good, I guess.” He looked away.

  I put my hand against his cheek, turning him back to look at me. “No, I really looked at them. I saw what was there.”

  I wanted to tell him that I had seen what he had done. How every picture had captured not just the person he was drawing, but a feeling. I had seen joy and peace, bliss and longing, passion and . . . In all the drawings of me, in every curve, in the brightness of my eyes, in the contours of my body, I had seen love. Love.

  But it was too hard to explain it all. I couldn't figure out how to say all these important things quickly enough. Liam was already turning away from me again. I grabbed the sides of his face and turned him to look at me. I was so terrified that my hands were trembling and I could hardly breathe. It was now or never. I looked into his beautiful, confused eyes and told him the simplest version of the truth: “I love you.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  Liam stood completely still. For the first time ever, I could get no read on him. His feelings were hidden from me. He was going to tell me to go to hell, I knew it. But it was worth the chance. He was worth everything.

  “Please don't go,” I whispered.

  He looked down at me, and then closed his eyes. It looked like he was in terrible pain. I braced myself to listen to whatever angry words were about to be flung at me.

  But he didn't yell. My hands were still on his chest, and he took them in his own. He lifted them up to his neck, then wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me up to him. I wrapped my legs around his middle and held on with all my might.

  I started to kiss him, but we were laughing and talking and kissing all at once. He whispered in my ear, “I hope you meant that, because I am never going to let you go.”

  Liam pulled me by the hand, back down the hall to Dr. Campbell's office. He knocked and then peeked his head in the door. “Sorry, sir, I'm staying. You're stuck with me. Also, I really need today off. I'm not on call, the charting is done…”

  I heard the gruff voice behind the door, “This is highly irregular, Dr. Mason…”

  “Special situation, sir. I've really got to go.” He closed the door gently and looked at me. We both tried to suppress our huge smiles. We were just two good kids cutting school for the first time ever.

  “What about me?” I asked him. “I'm starting Emergency today.”

  “Don't worry about it. I'll talk to the nurses. They know we were up all night with Alex. They'll keep the doctors off your back.”

  “But, it'll look bad. I can't just skip out.”

  Liam stopped in his tracks. “Stop this. We are good, hard-working people. When did you last have a sick day?”

  I was almost embarrassed to say it. “I've never had a sick day.”

  “Well, you're having one today. I'll write you a note.” We both laughed again and made for the exit.

  It was finally April and when I wasn’t looking, Spring had happened. How had I not noticed? In the last day, the trees had bloomed and the happy chirping of birds was everywhere. It was a beautiful day. We walked together, holding hands, stopping to kiss at ridiculously frequent intervals.

  “I want to go on a date with you.” Liam said suddenly.

  I smiled. “I think we're a little past that.”

  “Yeah, I know. We are in the exact right place, but there are some steps we missed somehow. I want to go on a real date.”

  “It's too damn cold still for a balloon ride…” I joked.

  He smiled and pulled me into him again. “No, just something simple. I want to dress up. I want to eat something delicious. I want to go home with you and flirt and wonder if we're going to make it into bed.”

  He was right. It was so simple, but it sounded amazing. “I'd love that,” I exclaimed, and meant it.

  He looked down at his watch. “Okay, it's ten o'clock. I'll come and get you at noon.”

  I laughed. “Oh boy, a sexy lunch!” I enjoyed teasing him.

  He wasn't smiling. “You have no idea how sexy a lunch can be.” He kissed me hard and my mouth responded quickly. The feelings were immediate and intense. I began to doubt we were going to make it to lunch at all.

  “And,” he continued, “if the après-lunch flirting goes well, I want to have all afternoon so I can seduce you over and over again.”

  “Jesus, you've got to stop talking like that.” I could barely stand. I was swooning, like one of those Victorian heroines.

  “Less talk, more action?” He cupped my ass and pulled me into his erection. Then he gently pushed me away. “See, this is what I mean! I can't seem to keep my hands off you. No wonder you thought it was only about sex. I need to prove to you that it's much, much more.” He looked so troubled and so sincere.

  But all my doubts were gone. I was the one who had believed it was either lust or love. He had both for me, and the combination was perfection.

  I pulled his face to mine and kissed it gently all over. I stopped at his lips and we kissed each other until we could hardly pull apart.

  “There's nothing left to prove. I can see how much you care about me. I absolutely love you.”

  “I love you, too.” Liam grabbed me, lifting me off the ground to kiss me.

  “You don't have to say that now, just because I did. It's okay.” I smiled up at him. It was okay. I could see we would get there, just as Liam had said we would.

  “No, baby, I've loved you for a long time. For so long,” and he started kissing me and clutching at me.

  Once again, I could hardly talk. “I want to go home.”

  “Now,” he said. “No lunch?”

  “No, no lunch. Consider the flirtation a success. Take me home.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  It started raining, again, and we scrambled to get home. We slowed our pace once we were safely in the door. Liam took my coat off slowly, stopping to kiss me every few seconds. We were moving toward the bedroom, but Liam pulled me into the living room.

  “I've never noticed this.”

  “The window?” I couldn't see what he meant.

  “No, the way there's a step up to the window.” I still wasn't getting it.

  “Step up there,” he said. I did.

  I was facing him. He pulled me closer, and his hard-on pushed against my already swollen center. We both groaned. “Nice.” I smiled.

  “Turn around,” he said, his voice husky with need once more. This time his erection was pushing against my ass. I pushed back into it, increasing the pressure and pleasure for both of us.

  “Don't move. I want to undress you.”

  I stood with my back to him, trembling with anticipation as he removed each piece of clothing. He reached forward and undid the buttons of my blouse, brushing against my breasts each time. It dropped to the floor in a silky rustle.

  He undid my bra and slid it off my shoulders, down my arms. He ran his fingers lightly along the insides of my arms as he made his way back up to my breasts.

  He pushed his hand down the waistband of my pants and under the elastic of my panties. His fingers spread the lips of my cleft open and touched the tender wet flesh between. I inhaled sharply, still amazed at how incredible that first touch always was.

  He groaned and pulled me back against his erection. “I love that you get so wet for me.” His fingers explored, while I writhed in pleasure. He pinched me gently between his fingers, and rubbed me until I was breathing hard.

  He took his hand from my pants and undid the button and zipper. He shimmied my clothing down past my hips, and I stepped out of them. I turned to hold him.

  Because of the rise in the floor, our
pelvises were together and our mouths were almost at the same height. I wrapped my arms more tightly around him, enjoying the curves of his muscles, the feeling of barely controlled power under his skin.

  He kissed me, and then stopped. “Turn around.” I did. “Lean forward, and rest your hands on the window sill.”

  The window was almost three feet away. I had to bend sharply at the waist for my hands to reach comfortably. The curtains were closed so we had privacy. It kept the room dim, too, which let me be more open and less self-conscious.

  “Spread your legs apart.” I hesitated, still slightly unsure. I was completely naked, bent over. I was exposed and vulnerable. He caressed my lower back, which sent a jolt of pleasure through me. My core started to throb, demanding to be touched. Still leaning forward, I opened my legs.

  “Wider.” I opened them wide enough to feel cool air on my hot center.

  “Oh, my god.” He put his hands on my lower back and ran them gently across my hips, my ass, and down the sides of my legs. He held the cheeks of my ass in his hands and massaged me until I was bending even lower, opening myself up to him. I needed him deep inside me.

  He moved his hands lower, and ran them back up my inner thighs. He stopped just beneath my swollen wet center. I waited and whimpered. He moved further up, and when he reached my cleft, his fingers parted me, then ran along the edges and ridges of my flesh, until they just grazed my clitoris. His thumbs entered me and began a gentle rocking, in and out.

  My head dropped and I pushed back onto his hands, wanting him deeper and deeper. Suddenly, though, the movements stopped. He took his hands away, and I was left hot and dissatisfied. He was moving back, away from me. I stood up, covering myself with my hands, “What's wrong?”

  He was shaking his head and trying to cover his erection. “Nothing, Maddie. Nothing at all. You look so sexy...”

  “But?”