by Noelle Adams
“Yes,” he says. I see the warmth in his eyes in the low light of the evening, and it assures me that he can’t be upset or worried about anything. He doesn’t look like he’s going to push me away.
“You’re not saying much.” I start to reach out for him since I want to touch him, but I remember Rika is in the car, so I stop.
“I know. Just thinking.”
“About what?”
“About what a good time I had this evening.” He takes a step closer to me. “Thanks for coming.”
“You’re welcome. Thanks for inviting me. I had a good time too.”
“Did you?”
“Yes. Of course I did.”
“And it wasn’t too much pressure to hang out with the daughter of the guy you just started dating?” There’s a question in his eyes now, and I know it’s real.
He really doesn’t know.
I hold back a giggle at the irony. “It doesn’t really feel like we’ve just started dating. I didn’t feel any pressure at all. I had a great time.”
He brushes a strand of hair back from my face. His eyes are so deep and soft now they feel like a tangible caress. “Good.”
“Good.” There’s no particular reason for me to repeat the word, but I hear myself doing so.
Max leans down toward my face. “Good,” he murmurs thickly.
I’m on the edge of stretching up toward the kiss when I remember Rika. “Wait, Max.”
He straightens up, frowning. “What’s wrong?”
“Rika’s in the car.”
“So?”
“You want to kiss right in front of her?”
He chuckles and leans down to kiss me again. This time he reaches my mouth, and he brushes my lips in a light little kiss. “I’m pretty sure she knows that we kiss.” He presses his mouth against mine again, this time lingering a bit longer. “And I’m also pretty sure she’s looking the other way because she doesn’t want to see her old dad kissing anyone.”
That makes me laugh helplessly.
Max watches me for a few seconds, and then his face softens even more. He pulls me into a brief, hard hug and murmurs against my ear, “Good night, Katrina.”
“Good night, Max.” I’m grinning at him as he starts back to the car.
He was right. Rika has been looking pointedly in another direction, but she seems to sense that the kissing time is over because she turns her head as Max approaches the car. She waves at me, and I wave back.
Max gives me one more special smile as he gets into the driver’s side.
I stand on the porch until they drive away.
I go inside and get ready for bed with all kinds of warm, fluttery feelings.
They’re still there when I wake up the next morning.
FOR THE NEXT MONTH, I spend every other weekend with Max, and the rest of the time I hang out with him and Rika at least three times a week. We sometimes have lunch. We sometimes go out for dinner. And we sometimes just hang out at their place and watch movies.
It’s a month after Max and I started dating that I spend the whole Saturday with them. First we go out for a late breakfast and visit a nearby bookstore. Then we come back to their house and go hang out in the outdoor pool in their neighborhood. Then we come back and make dinner together and play board games the rest of the evening.
We stay up late, playing and laughing and teasing each other, and I can’t remember when I had such a good day.
I realize why at around midnight when our last game ends and Rika goes to get ready for bed.
I feel like part of their family. I shouldn’t, but I do.
For the entire day—the entire month—I’ve been enjoying myself without any qualms or hesitations, but at this realization my stomach clenches.
I’m not part of their family. I’m never going to be part of their family.
Maybe I shouldn’t feel so much like I am.
Max and Rika picked me up this morning on the way to breakfast, so I have no way to get home myself. I assume Max isn’t going to want me to spend the night—he’s always been very careful about avoiding any hint that he’s having sex with me when Rika is around—so he’ll have to drive me home.
So I can’t get away to process the flicker of fear at how I’m feeling. I help Max clean up the living room, putting the games back together and rinsing out the dishes we used and loading them into the dishwasher.
After a while, Rika comes back out in her pajamas. “Good night, Dad. Good night, Katrina.”
“Good night,” I tell her with a smile. She’s washed her face and brushed her teeth and pulled her bushy hair back in a loose ponytail. I have the most ridiculous swell of something akin to maternal feelings at the sight of her.
Another thing I really shouldn’t be feeling.
Max clears his throat in an exaggerated way. “You don’t think you’re going to get away with just that, do you?” He gives Rika a summoning gesture with two fingers.
She rolls her eyes and gives a dramatic groan as she walks over to her father. He kisses her cheek and then pulls her into a hug. He says against her ear, “I love you, angel.”
“Love you too,” she mumbles. I can tell she’s not just tolerating the hug. She’s returning it.
Shit. More of those sappy feelings. Way more than should exist in my heart.
When Max releases Rika, she turns toward me. I see her hesitate, so I smile and say, “Good night, Rika. I’ll see you tomorrow and hopefully you’ll be finished with Jack and Jill by then so we can talk about it.”
“I should be,” she says with a little nod. “I’m almost done now, and I’ll finish it tomorrow morning.” She makes a funny face and then gives me a quick hug, pulling back and heading for her room immediately afterward like she’s embarrassed.
So that leaves me a puddle of goo. If I wasn’t there before, I definitely am now.
I can’t understand the look in Max’s eyes, so I try not to think about it. “You taking me home?”
He looks briefly surprised, like he’d forgotten that I don’t have my car here. “Yeah. Yeah, of course. Rika will be fine on her own for a while.”
I collect my purse and wait for him to grab his keys.
He’s quiet on the way home, always a sign that he’s distracted by his own thoughts.
I can’t help but wonder what they are.
Maybe he’s worried that Rika is getting too close to me. He’ll never do anything that will potentially hurt her. He’s told me that straight out more than once. He’d drop me in a second if hurting her was even a remote possibility.
I know that for sure.
My stomach feels heavy when we reach my building. I’ve been looking around for a house to rent this summer, but so far I haven’t found anything I like. I am making progress with my second master’s, and I’ve developed a better circle of friends, but other than that I haven’t done much else lately to build the life I want for myself.
That makes me feel heavy too.
Maybe I’m too caught up with Max and Rika. Maybe it isn’t good for me.
Maybe I should think about ending the relationship so I can focus on my priorities again.
Everything inside me rises up in resistance to the idea of breaking up with Max, so it’s obviously not something I can seriously consider right now.
It will be fine. I’ll just put more effort into house hunting in the next few weeks. Maybe I can find a little house before the fall semester starts next month. Then I could get a dog.
“You okay?” Max asks, pulling me out of my thoughts.
I look over at him in surprise and realize he’s put his car in park and is waiting for me to unbuckle my seat belt and get out. “Oh. Yeah. Sorry. Just tired, I think.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.” I smile at him and feel better when he returns it.
This is a really good man. A good man in every way. I’d be a fool to dump him just because I’m having a few sappy feelings. I’ve been deeply happy this summer, so I
don’t think this relationship can be bad for me overall.
“I’ll walk you up,” he says, getting out of the car as I do.
We go upstairs, and he follows me into my place. There, he pulls me into a hug for no obvious reason.
I hug him back, taking comfort in the heat of his body, the strength of his arms, the solidity of his chest.
This isn’t bad for me.
It can’t be.
I’m allowed to have him in my life even if I’m never going to be at the center of his heart.
When he finally loosens his arms, he draws back and gazes at me searchingly. Then he leans down to kiss me, and I respond as I always do. The kiss deepens quickly, both of us urgent unusually soon.
When I feel a throb of desire between my legs, I pull away. “Okay. We better stop.”
“Why?” One of his hands is spanning the side of my throat. He’s flushed, and his gray eyes are smoldering in a familiar away.
“Because Rika’s at home on her own.”
“She’s fourteen. She can be left by herself for more than a few minutes, you know.”
“I know, but you can’t spend the night with me. What if she sees you’re gone so long?”
“So I won’t spend the night.” His eyebrows pull together. “Do you not want to have sex with me right now?”
“Of course I do! You know I do. I just don’t want to make things weird with Rika.”
“Things aren’t weird with her. She really likes you.” He hefts me up so I have to wrap my legs around his waist to secure my balance. “And I really like you too.”
I giggle. “I like you too.”
“Good. So maybe we can have sex. I don’t want to wait until next weekend.”
“I don’t want to wait either. As long as it doesn’t take too long.”
His eyes are laughing as he carries me toward my bedroom. “I can be really quick.”
“Can you? I haven’t found that to be the case. You’re a very leisurely lover.”
“Leisurely, am I?” He knows I’m teasing because his smile never falters.
“Yes. You are. You always take your time.”
It’s true. I’ve never been with a man as patient and attentive in bed as Max. It’s one of the many things to love about him.
“Well, I can be quick when I want to be. Just as quick as anyone else.” He lowers me onto my bed.
“Ooh, that sounds tempting. A quick lover. You’re really sweetening the pot.” I start shimmying out of my cropped leggings since those are always a pain to take off midcoitus and impossible to do in a sexy way.
He’s toeing off his shoes and shucking his trousers. “You won’t believe how fast I can be when I’m really trying. I’ll be in and out before you know it.”
I giggle helplessly and reach up to pull him down on top of me. He yanks off his shirt before he lets me draw him down. He hasn’t showered since morning, so he smells like effort and sunshine.
I love the smell of him. The feel of him. The fond intimacy in his expression.
I love everything about this man, and my body responds to the knowledge.
We kiss urgently, hungrily, my body wrapped around his. Then he pulls up enough to take off the rest of my clothes and kiss his way down my throat to my breasts.
He doesn’t spend as much time as usual as he strokes and fondles me, but he doesn’t have to. I’ve been aroused from the very beginning, and he discovers this when he slides a finger inside me and feels how wet I am.
“You ready for me, sweetheart?” he asks, rising up to pull off his boxer briefs.
“Yeah.” I reach into the nightstand and hand him a condom packet.
I’m on birth control, and part of me wants to stop using condoms. They’ve started feeling like a barrier between us—a barrier I don’t want. But he’s never suggested it, and I’m not comfortable doing so myself. I know we’re exclusive. He knows it too. And both of us are healthy.
But birth control isn’t foolproof, and I know he’s probably worried about my accidently getting pregnant. The condoms are an extra level of security that he likely needs.
And it’s fine. The condoms do nothing to lessen my pleasure. I shouldn’t even want to do without them.
He likes to experiment with positions in bed, but today he settles between my thighs in missionary position. He kisses me for a minute before he pulls one of my legs to the side so he can line himself up. He pushes into me slowly, stretching me, filling me.
I cling to the length and width of him, holding on to him tightly with my inner muscles.
He groans and closes his eyes in response. I can see the effort to control himself flicker across his tight features.
I wrap my arms around his neck, and he lowers himself into a kiss. He keeps kissing me as he starts to thrust, his tongue following the rhythm of his hips.
And it’s so good, so deep, so intimate. My body is rocked by his motion, and my heart is rocked by the whole of who he is.
It’s several minutes before the pleasure builds into urgency. When it does, our mouths break apart, and I start to huff as an orgasm tightens inside me.
It’s a while before I realize that I’m huffing out his name. Repeating it over and over again.
I bend my knees and brace myself with my feet so I can pump my hips more vigorously, chasing the release. He responds to my shameless need by accelerating, the muscles of his ass clenching as he thrusts. I’ve moved my hands down to his butt so I can feel it as he moves.
He usually talks more in bed, but tonight there’s nothing but his heavy breathing that gradually turns into grunts. My head tosses back and forth on the pillow, but when I manage to focus on his face, I can see that he’s gazing down at me hotly.
He never looks away.
Once my eyes meet his, I can’t turn away either. So we’re still sharing the gaze as I come, as he comes right after me.
It’s strangely deep. Intense.
It leaves me with a heavy feeling in my gut, even as my body relaxes in the aftermath of the release.
His body is softening too. He rests his weight on me for a minute as he kisses my throat, my cheek, my lips.
Then he gets up, takes care of the condom, goes to the bathroom, and gets dressed without saying anything.
Max is a talker, so his silence feels significant.
When he sits down on the edge of the bed to put on his shoes, I sit up too, pulling the covers up to hide my nakedness.
“Is everything all right?” I ask him, rubbing one of his shoulders.
He turns toward me with a little smile. “Yeah. Everything’s great.”
I think I believe him. There isn’t a lie in his face that I can see. But I don’t know why he’s so strangely quiet tonight. He has been ever since we said good night to Rika.
“If something’s wrong, you can tell me, you know.” I keep my voice as light as possible.
“I know.” He leans over to kiss me again. “Nothing’s wrong. That was amazing. You’re amazing.”
“You’re amazing too.”
I stay in bed as he stands up. He gazes down at me for a long moment before he finally says, “Good night, Katrina. I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll lock the door on my way out.”
“Thank you. Good night.” I don’t know what else to say, so I let him leave.
It was a good day. A good night. Really good sex.
So I don’t know why I have this heavy feeling in my gut that doesn’t go away as I fall asleep.
THE HEAVY FEELING KEEPS coming back for the next few weeks. I try to stem it off by distracting myself by work and house hunting. I spend a lot of time with Max and Rika, and Max is his normal laid-back self again, talking easily and not being so strangely silent.
But the heavy feeling doesn’t completely go away.
Three weeks later, Rika is with her mom for the weekend, and Max and I spend a Saturday looking at three houses for rent we’ve found. I found two that were advertised, and he found one through a friend, an
d we go check them out that afternoon.
The one Max discovered I really love. It’s a cute two-bedroom bungalow just six blocks from campus. It’s got a fenced yard and well-kept hardwood floors, and the rental price is within my budget.
Max has evidently been asking around, and one of his friends told him he had a house to rent before it was even advertised. The owner said I could have it if I want. I just need to let him know this weekend so he doesn’t have to spend the money on ads.
I should take it.
I need to take it.
It’s exactly what I’ve been looking for, and I know I’ll love it.
So much of me wants that house.
But I’d have to sign a year’s lease, and for some reason it’s making me hesitate.
We go out to dinner after we look at the houses and then go to see a new movie at the closest theater. It’s about ten thirty in the evening when we get back to his house where we’re spending the weekend.
I’m tired, so I brush my teeth, wash up, and change into my pajamas. Max goes to take a shower as I get into bed. I turn on the television and flip around for something to watch.
I’m tired. And distracted by that sinking feeling in my gut.
I have no idea what to do about the house.
Max comes to bed a few minutes later wearing nothing but his underwear. He smells like soap and toothpaste. He leans over to kiss me before he stretches out under the covers.
He stares at the home decorating show I found on TV for a few seconds before he turns to look at me. “So what do you think about the house?”
“I don’t know. I still don’t know.”
“What don’t you know? Isn’t it exactly what you want? It even has a fenced yard for a dog.”
I nod. “Yeah. I know. It’s perfect.”
“So what’s the problem then? I thought this was on your list of things you wanted in your life. Your own house and a dog. When Cal told me he was going to rent it out, I knew immediately it was what you were looking for. Is something wrong with it?”
“No. Nothing’s wrong with it.” I don’t know how to express what my concern is without revealing far too much about my feelings. Feelings I shouldn’t be having. “I think it’s just the year’s lease that’s worrying me. I’d be more comfortable with a six-month lease.”