The Space In Between

by Melyssa Winchester

  I love you, Emery.

  Tears start falling and instead of reaching up and wiping them away, I just let them fall. The feel of his arms around me and the security that’s come with it since the very first time he did it in September, all I care about.

  “What took you so long?” I whisper against his neck softly and despite the way it sounds, all garbled from what I know is my string of tears, he chuckles.

  “If I took too long, you could have just saved me the trouble and said it yourself.”

  Oh, I’ll show him ‘say it yourself’.

  “Christian,” I say pulling back just enough to be able to look him straight in the eye. “You had me at ‘I’m sorry’.”

  “Huh? I’m sorry? You mean when I apologized for ruining the date?”

  Grinning at his confusion while at the same time getting a perverse pleasure from the way his entire face seems to scrunch up as he tries to place what I mean, I wait a few breaths before solving the mystery.

  “The day we met and I almost ran you over. The first words you said to me were ‘I’m sorry’. Nothing has ever felt the same since. I guess what I’m trying to say is, I love you too, maybe even more.”

  “You actually remember what we said to each other the first day?” he asks, obviously surprised that something that small, a few random minutes in time really, has had such a lasting impact on me.

  What I need to make him see is that all of his words to me, our conversation since that day are locked away tight in my memory because I’ve kept them so intricately woven around my heart, the same way I have with him.

  “My life changed that day, Mikey. Of course I’d remember everything about it.”

  Moving my arm away from his neck as I feel his start to move and lift around it, I watch as he brings it up to his face and he wipes at his eyes.

  Holy crap.

  He’s crying.

  I made him cry.

  “Chris…”I whisper softly, moving his hand out of the way and running my fingers over his cheeks, catching the dampness of what’s left behind. “What did I say?”

  “It’s not what you said. It’s what it means.”

  “What does it mean?”

  “After we lost her, I swore that I would never love anyone. It was too much trouble. I mean, my dad loved my mom with everything he had and despite it, or maybe even a little because of it, he still lost her. She was stripped away from him. She loved me with every fiber of her being and she was taken from me too. Loving meant hurting, so I was determined not to do it.”

  “Then there was this girl on a bike while I was trying to get my dad to knock off his lecture, attempting to stop herself from hitting me and falling to the ground in front of me. I should have just abandoned all hope of keeping my promise in that moment, but I didn’t. I ignored the obvious signs until I couldn’t anymore.”

  I want to touch his face and say something amazing, or maybe just funny, to stop the tears that I continue to see build from falling, but nothing comes. It’s because I’m not meant to. For whatever reason, this is something that Christian has to get out and I can’t say a word, or make a move until it’s out.

  All of it.

  “I fought against what I was feeling so damn hard, not wanting to be another Jonah or Johnny to you, but when I heard you play that first day in class and then started playing with you in the morning, I knew it was impossible. You branded me that day when you asked me for my middle name and it wouldn’t let up until I had you.”

  “Emery, I’ve only loved one person my entire life and I lost her. So when I tell you how I feel about you…say those three words that seem to come so easily for everybody else, they’re not just words. They’re feelings. They’re hope, faith, trust, love, respect and admiration. They’re me. They’re everything I’ve got and everything I want.”

  Nodding in understanding, but still too stunned by his admission to speak, I wait for him to continue and when after a few seconds he doesn’t, I lean in, wipe his eyes as I see another tear fall and say the only thing I can that will make the most sense.

  “They’re music.”

  “Yeah, but it’s more than that. I’m the music, you’re the lyrics, and together we’re the perfect song.”

  Ever since we shared that moment together on Christmas Eve, I’ve believed beyond a shadow of a doubt that I was falling in love. That belief took what we had already built and set it on fire. Taking what to others might not be all that important and making it memorable.

  From the way he looked at me when he didn’t think I noticed; the purity of his heart shining through the softness of his gaze as it lingered on me, to the way it felt making music with him, every lyric and melody we created not just music, but feelings in motion. Even the smaller things, like the way it felt when we kissed or he held me tight wove itself into the fabric of my heart, making me realize what I think I’ve always known but have been too afraid to admit.

  I’m not falling in love with him the way I thought because I already fell a long time ago.

  A realization that has never been more apparent than it is now as I’m filled with the need to not only tell him I love him again, but show him too.

  It’s been a month since I told him I was ready to be with him and while we’ve had plenty of chances to take things to the next level, we never have. Listening to him compare us to a song, with the way I know he looks at signs, I’m starting to see why it didn’t. It couldn’t happen before because it was always meant to happen now.

  Here, when we’re at our most vulnerable, our hearts open and on display for the other to see.

  It’s time for the waves to crash into the shore.

  Not wanting to take away from the purity of the moment, but after my own declaration and realization needing to be as close to him as possible, feeling him, I move in until our faces are inches apart and with my hand still cupping the side of his face, kiss him. My lips, already damp from my tears connecting to his, and instead of time freezing in place, as if taking a snapshot to remember it by, everything seems to speed up.

  My slow tentative kiss quickly turns into something more as he pushes back harder, his arms coming around and gripping me tighter, bringing me as close as I can possibly get to his body as he deepens the kiss, his tongue parting my lips and gaining entrance, tangling itself up with mine as our breathing becomes even more weighted and heavy.

  Pulling back and quietly sucking in a breath of air as a shift of his body separates his lips from mine, I watch as his eyes move over me, starting at my face, tracing his own outline over my skin as he studies me before moving away and lowering his gaze to my neck and lingering once it lands on my chest.

  Hearing his sharp intake of breath as he continues committing my body to memory, so caught up in the way it feels having him take me in this way, I release a weighted breath of my own, his eyes lifting and finding mine again the second it’s out. Biting my lip gently, he moves his hand, bringing it around to rest on back of my neck and before I can react or prepare for whatever he has planned next, he leans me back against it and begins leaving a trail of soft kisses from my lips, down and over my jawline until he gets to my neck.

  “Emery,” he shudders my name as I lift my hands and begin undoing the buttons on his shirt, trying to focus on the sound of each one as they pop, but completely lost to the way his lips on my body feel.

  “Don’t stop, Chris.” I plead when he briefly pauses, my words having the desired effect when he continues his trail of kisses to where the top of my dress rests.

  Where I expect him to stop now that he’s reached my chest, he brings his other hand around to where the beginning of the zipper lies on my back and listening to the sound as he slides it down slowly, each second only intensifying the need in me for more, I say what I hope will be enough to quell any worries he has about my readiness.

  “I love you, Christian. I want this with you.”

  Pausing again once the dress has been completely unzipped, he slips h
is hands down and around, bringing me so tightly into him I can feel his heart racing as he lifts us up from our position on the floor and over to the bed. Kissing me softly, he lays me down gently, his hand running down over my arm before he slides himself in on top, his legs straddling mine.

  Touching my face, this time his gaze locked on mine, he leans forward and kisses me again, breaking away just long enough to slide the strapless dress down until he’s pulling it away from my body and letting it fall to the floor.

  Smiling when he catches the small tendril of hair that’s fallen away from the rest and tucking it behind my ear, he releases the most beautiful sigh I’ve ever heard when his eyes again meet mine.

  “Are you sure about this, Ems?”

  Before I’ve even managed to finish the nod I’ve willed my head to make in response to his question, he’s capturing my lips again, tugging at them with his teeth and releasing a guttural moan as our lips move in unison, keeping pace with our tongues as our hands move over our bodies, each touch burning more than the last.

  Breaking away and leaning his forehead against mine, closing his eyes as my nails begin to lightly graze over his back, he sighs again and his next words spoken, like the perfect song, only solidify my decision.

  “Let’s make beautiful music together, Emery. Let me love you.”

  So I do…and we did.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Emery

  Opening the fridge and searching around for my lunch, going so far as to pull out the meat racks at the bottom thinking that my mom spaced again and put it in the last place I’d find it, I give up when nothing appears and step away letting it close as her throat clears behind me.

  “Here,” She says, handing over a ten dollar bill when I turn around to face her. “I was thinking you might want to go out for lunch today.”

  This is the third time this month she’s done this and I’m not complaining or anything, but it’s still taking some getting used to. Her willingly handing over cash so I can gorge myself on cheesy fries breaks every rule she used to have in place.

  “Who are you and what have you done with my mom?”

  “It’s come to my attention recently that when it comes to certain things, I may have been a bit harsh with you. This is my way of rectifying that. Now, are you going to take it or not?”

  Reaching out and snagging the money from her outstretched hand, I slip it into the pocket of my jeans and make my way back out around her.

  After falling asleep in bed with Christian the night before, waking up to his bedhead and crooked smile at 4 a.m. as I had to kick him out of bed before my mom got up, then sleeping past the alarm, I’m running seriously behind and need to get a move on.

  “I’ll see you after school, Mom. Have a good day.” I call out as I get to the front door and sling my backpack around my shoulder. Before I can turn the knob in order to head out, she calls out to stop me.

  “Remember what we talked about last night.”

  “I haven’t forgotten. You’re finally ready for me to meet your mystery man.”

  Actually, it’s a bit more complex than that. When I’d gotten home last night, she announced that things with Nicholas were becoming more serious and felt it was time that we meet.

  I’m pretty sure it’s been six months too long of a wait, but I couldn’t exactly hide my excitement when she said that she invited him to dinner tonight.

  This guy, the one that’s been making her so happy, I’m finally going to get the chance to thank him.

  I seriously cannot wait.

  My excitement might also have a little to do with the fact that he’s bringing his son to dinner. I’ve been hearing about this kid for months now and with as crappy as it can be sometimes, being the only kid in the house, I’m looking forward to having a little brother.

  I just wish she’s stop referring to him as Nick’s son and give me an actual name. The little guy, if things keep going this well, will eventually be my brother after all. It’s only fair that I know what to call him before that happens.

  “Dinner is set for five, so I expect you to get here before that.”

  “Mom, you know how badly I want to meet him, but you also know how much of a troll Jordan can be and it’s assignment day, which means it’s gonna run long.”

  I don’t even bother telling her that my being late will be less about Jordan and more about wanting to spend as much time as humanly possible with Christian.

  Flashing me a look of understanding, she pats me on the arm before shifting back toward the kitchen and whatever she’s got to do before heading off to work.

  “Just promise you’ll try to be here on time, okay?”

  “Pinky promise, Mom. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be tonight.”

  Lie number one.

  I’d much rather be at Christian’s recreating the last few days, but she doesn’t need to know that.

  “Love you, honey. Drive safe.”

  “Always do. See ya!” I yell out over my back as I finally make my way out the front door, making sure as I do to shut it behind me.

  Making my way to the car, I slide my backpack over to the passenger seat before climbing in and turning the key in the ignition, the radio picking up where I’d left it last night after Christian and I snuck into my room after our date, complete with a power ballad to get the day started.

  Power ballads that over the last couple of days seem to be all I can stand listening to because they sum up the way I’ve been feeling easily.

  It’s only been a few days since our Valentine’s date and even though we’ve made love a couple more times since then—each time becoming less awkward and more comfortable physically—I can’t seem to get that first night out of my head.

  When people say that you’ll feel different after your first time, more like a woman and less like the girl you are, they’re full of shit. When I woke up the next morning, all I felt was nauseous and sore. My body—the parts that shall remain nameless for fear of grossing people out—stinging and making me wonder why people make such a big deal of sex at all.

  I felt exactly the same. I wasn’t standing any taller or looking any leaner. There was no glow on my face that I’ve heard some people have once it happens. There was nothing. I was still the same old Emery, only now with the added bonus of having a bit of experience.

  Well that and a boyfriend that had done everything in his power to make the experience perfect for us.

  Maybe things are different after all.

  I know the way I miss him is stronger and when we’re not together, there’s like a hole in my soul until we’re finally able to be together again. After spending the night with him and making love for the first time, I’m starting to see why he likes puzzles so much.

  It’s because the way we are when we’re apart and then we see each other again, it’s like pieces coming together.

  Focusing again on what I need to do, I pull out of the drive and head toward the school, each mile that I drive causing my heart to pick up in speed, excitement and eagerness completely taking over once I pull into the school over what’s about to happen now that I’m here.

  All of my pieces connecting to his.

  Christian

  “Do you have practice after school?”

  “Nah, but I do the rest of the week cause of the game on Saturday. Why?”

  “Rose wants to have us over for dinner tonight.”

  All it takes is nine words and the virtual high that I’ve been running on over the last few days is completely obliterated.

  If Rose wants us over for dinner it can only mean one thing.

  Tonight’s the night that we’re going to sit down as the family we’re eventually going to be and tell Emery the truth.

  I should feel good about this. It means no more secrets. No more pretending that I don’t know our parents are dating and actually getting to be honest with the girl I love, but good is the last thing I feel.

  When she finds out, unless I c
an somehow manage to steel my expression completely, she’s going to know I’ve known about it and been holding back. The very last thing you’re supposed to do when you’re in love. She’s going to see my omission—my lie—all over my face and the same way I fear losing her once she realizes our parents are together, I’ll see now because I was stupid enough to agree to hold back on telling her.

  Our parents won’t be what causes our breakup.

  I will be.

  “What time are we supposed to be there?”

  “Dinner is at five, but I was thinking we could get there a bit earlier, especially since I’m sure this is going to be a pretty big shock for Emery.”

  “You do realize she thinks your son is some little kid right?”

  “I’m aware of it, at least from what Rose has told me.”

  “Dad, how can you sit here and be okay with this? In a couple of hours you’re going to blow her world apart. We’re going to do it. You and me. Leave Rose out of it for a second. How do you think she’s going to feel when she walks down the stairs or comes in the door and she sees you sitting there, but then looks over and sees me?”

  “I can’t imagine her feeling good.”

  “Right, so don’t you think the proper way to deal with this is for Rose to sit her down alone? Give her time to come to terms with what she’s learning and then force all of us together?”

  I can tell I’m getting to him. I can also see by the frown growing on his face that I’m not saying anything he hasn’t already thought about. I just don’t understand why, if he’s been over this, we’re doing things this way.

  If he thinks this is wrong, shouldn’t he be standing up to his girlfriend and telling her that? Why the hell is it going down like this?

  Since when do I have to be the adult in the room?

  “Son, you’re not saying anything that I haven’t already said to Rose, but this is how she wants to play it. Since this happens to be her daughter we’re talking about, we have to play by her rules.”