Chapter Twenty Five
Jennie
"I'm not going."
"Yes, you are," Bobby says, kicking my legs off the coffee table. "I'm bored out of my mind. Sorn works all weekend, and Lisa is off doing God knows what with God knows who."
I immediately look up at him with my heart caught in my throat.
He laughs. "That got your attention." He reaches forward, grabs my hands, and pulls me off the couch. "I'm kidding. Lisa is at home working, being a mopey little shit, just like you're trying to be. Now, go get pretty and come out with me tonight, or I'll sit on the couch with you and force you to watch porn."
I pull my hands from his and walk to the kitchen. I open a cabinet, then grab a cup. "I don't want to go out tonight, Bobby. I had class all day, and it's my only night off from the library. I'm sure you can find someone else to go with you." I grab a container of juice from the refrigerator and fill my glass. Leaning against the counter, I take a sip as I watch Bobby pout in my living room. He's kind of adorable when he pouts, which is why I always give him such a hard time.
"Listen up, Jen," he says, walking toward the kitchen. He grabs a bar stool and pulls it out, then takes a seat. "I'm about to lay things out for you, okay?"
I roll my eyes. "I doubt I can stop you, so go ahead."
He lays his palms flat on the counter in front of him and leans forward. "You suck."
I laugh. "That's it? That's what you needed to lay out for me?"
He nods. "You suck. So does Lisa. Since the night I gave her your address, you've both sucked. All she does is work or write music. She doesn't even play pranks on me anymore. Every time I'm over here, you're just focused on studying. You never want to go out. You never want to hear my sex stories anymore."
"Correction," I say, interrupting him. "I've never wanted to hear your sex stories. That's nothing new."
"Whatever," he says, shaking his head. "My point is that the two of you are miserable. I know you need time and blah, blah, blah, but that doesn't mean you have to give up fun while you're figuring your life out. I want to go have fun. No one wants to have fun with me anymore, and that's all your fault, because you're the only one who can put a stop to the misery you and Lisa are going through. So, yes. You suck. You suck, you suck, you suck. And if you want to stop sucking so much, then go get dressed so we can go out and not suck together for just a few hours."
I don't know how to argue with that. I do suck. I suck, I suck, I suck. Only Bobby could put it in such a simple, straightforward way that would actually make sense. I know I've been miserable the past few months, and it doesn't help to know that Lisa has been miserable, too. She's miserable because she's sitting around waiting for me to get over whatever it is that's keeping me from contacting her.
The last thing she said in her letter to me was Just say when.
I've been trying to say when since the moment I read that letter, but I'm just too scared. I've never felt about anyone or anything the way I feel about her, and the thought of our not working out is enough to keep me from saying that one little word. I feel as if the longer we wait and the more time we have to heal, the better chance we'll have at our maybe someday.
I keep waiting for the moment when I know for sure that she's moved on from Irene. I keep waiting for the moment when I know for sure that she's ready to commit fully to me. I keep waiting for the moment when I know for sure that I'm not going to be consumed with guilt for allowing myself to trust someone with my heart again.
I don't know when I'll get to that point, and it hurts to know that my inability to move forward is holding Lisa back.
"Now," Bobby says, shoving me out of the kitchen. "Get dressed."
• • •
I can't believe I've let him talk me into this. I check my makeup one last time and grab my purse. As soon as he sees me, he shakes his head. I huff and throw my hands in the air.
"What now?" I sigh. "I'm not dressed appropriately?"
"You look great, but I want you to wear the blue dress."
"I burned that dress, remember?" I say.
"The hell you did," he says, pushing me back toward my bedroom. "You were wearing it last week when I stopped by. Go put it on so we can leave."
I spin around to face him. "I know how much you like that dress, and wearing it tonight while I'm out with you is a little too creepy, Bobby."
He narrows his eyes. "Listen, Jen. I don't mean to be rude, but all this moping around for the past few months has caused you to put on a little weight. Your ass looks huge in those jeans. The blue dress may be able to hide a little of that, so go put it on, or I might be too embarrassed to go out with you."
I suddenly feel like slapping him again, but I know he's just got a peculiar sense of humor. I also know he might have a completely different reason for why he wants me to wear this dress and I'm trying not to let myself think it has anything to do with Lisa, but pretty much every situation I'm in somehow makes me think about Lisa. It's nothing new. But Bobby is a guy who seems to put his foot in his mouth a lot, and I'm a girl, so I still wonder if his sarcastic remark has any truth to it. I have been replacing the void Lisa left in my life with food. I look down at my stomach and pat it, then look back up at Bobby. "You're an asshole."
He nods. "I know."
The innocent smile on his face makes me instantly forgive any crudeness behind his joke. I change into the blue dress, but I am so cock-blocking him tonight. Jerk.
• • •
"Wow. This is . . . different," I say, taking in my surroundings. It's nothing like the clubs Bobby usually likes to go to. This one is a lot smaller, without even much of a dance floor. There's an empty stage along one wall, but there's no one performing tonight. The jukebox is playing, and several people are scattered around at tables, talking quietly among themselves. Bobby chooses a table toward the middle of the room.
"You're a cheap date," I say. "You didn't even feed me."
He laughs. "I'll buy you a burger on the way home."
Bobby pulls out his phone and begins texting someone, so I look around for a while. It's kind of cozy. It's also kind of weird that Bobby brought me here. But I'm thinking he doesn't have any evil intentions, because he's not even paying attention to me.
His attention is on his phone, and he keeps glancing at the door. I don't understand why he wanted to come out tonight, and I especially don't understand why he chose this place.
"You're actually the one who sucks," I say. "Stop ignoring me."
He responds without even looking up at me. "You aren't talking, so technically, I'm not ignoring you."
I'm curious now. He's not being himself, the way he's so distracted. "What's up with you, Bobby?"
As soon as I ask the question, he looks up from his phone and smiles over my shoulder, then stands. "You're late," he says to someone behind me. I look to see Sorn walking toward us.
"Screw you, Bobby," she says to him with a small smile. He wraps his arms around her, and they kiss for several uncomfortable seconds. I reach up and tap him on the arm when I'm convinced that neither of them can breathe. He pulls away from Sorn, winks at her, and slides out his chair for her.
"I have to go to the bathroom," he says to Sorn. He points at me. "Don't go anywhere."
He says it as if it's a command, and it irritates me even more because he's being really rude tonight. I turn and face Sorn once he's left the table. "Bobby said you were working all weekend," I say.
She shrugs. "Yeah, well, he probably told you that because of the elaborate scheme he has planned for tonight. He made me come so you wouldn't leave when you found out about it. Oh, and I'm not supposed to tell you any of that, so if he comes back, play dumb."
My heart rate escalates. "Please tell me you're kidding."
She shakes her head and raises her arm in the air, calling over a waiter. "I wish I was kidding. I had to switch shifts to be here, and now I have to work a double tomorrow."
I drop my head into my hands, regretting the fact that I let Bobby talk me into anything. Just when I'm reaching for my purse to leave, he walks out onto the empty stage.
"Oh, God," I groan. "What the hell is he doing?" My stomach is in knots. I have no idea what he has planned, but whatever it is, it can't be good.
He taps on the microphone, then adjusts the height of it. "I'd like to thank everyone for coming tonight. Not that any of you are here for this particular event, since it's a surprise, but I feel the need to thank you anyway."
He adjusts the microphone once more, then finds our table in the crowd and waves. "I want to apologize to you, Jen, because I feel really bad for lying to you. You haven't gained weight, and your ass looked great in those jeans, but you really needed to wear that dress tonight. Also, you don't suck. I lied about that, too."
Several people in the crowd laugh, but I just groan and bury my face in my hands, peeking through my fingers at him up on the stage.
"All right, let's get on with it, shall we? We have a few new songs for you tonight. Unfortunately, the whole band couldn't be here, because"—he looks to his left at the small width of the stage, then to his right—"well, I don't think they all could have fit. So I'd like to present to you a small portion of the band Sounds of Cedar."
My heart falls to the floor. I close my eyes when the crowd begins to clap.
Please, let it be Lisa.
Please, don't let it be Lisa.
Jesus, when will this confusion go away?
I can hear commotion up on the stage, and I'm too scared to open my eyes. I want to see her sitting up there so much it hurts.
"Hey, Jen," Bobby says into the microphone. I inhale a slow, calming breath, then open my eyes and hesitantly look up at him. "Remember a few months ago when I told you sometimes we have to have really bad days in order to keep the good ones in perspective?"
I think I nod. I can't really feel my body anymore.
"Well, this is one of the good days. This is one of the really good days." He raises his hand in the air and motions to my table. "Somebody get that girl a shot of whatever will help loosen her up."
He moves the microphone to the stool next to him, and my eyes are glued to the empty chairs. Someone lays a shot on the table in front of me, and I instantly grab it and down it. I drop the shot glass back onto the table and look up just in time to see them walk onto the stage. Bambam is first, and Lisa is right behind him, carrying a guitar.
Oh, my God. She looks incredible. It's the first time I've ever seen her on a stage. I've been wanting to watch her perform since the first moment I heard her guitar on my balcony and here I am, about to watch my fantasy become reality.
She looks the same as she did the last time I saw her, just . . . incredible. I guess she looked incredible back then, too. I just didn't feel right allowing myself to admit it when I knew she wasn't mine. I must feel okay about it now, because holy crap. She's beautiful. She carries herself with such confidence and I can definitely see why. Her arms look as if they were built for the sole purpose of carrying a guitar. It molds to her so naturally, it's as if it's an extension of her. There isn't a shadow of guilt clouding her eyes like there always was in the past. She's smiling, like she's excited for what's about to happen. Her enigmatic smile lights up her face and her face lights up the entire room. At least it seems that way to me. She glances over the audience several times as she makes her way toward her seat, but she doesn't immediately spot me.
She takes a seat on the center stool, and Bambam sits to the left of her, Bobby to her right. She signs to Bobby, and Bobby points at me. Lisa looks out into the audience and finds me. My hands are clamped over my mouth, and my elbows are propped up on the table. She smiles and gives me a nod and my heart crashes to the floor. I can't smile or wave or nod back at her. I'm too nervous to move.
Bambam leans forward and speaks into the microphone. "We've got a few new songs—"
His voice is cut off when Lisa pulls the microphone away from him and leans in toward it. "Jennie," Lisa says into the microphone, "some of these songs I wrote with you. Some of these songs I wrote for you."
I can hear a small difference in the way she speaks now. I've never heard her say so much at once out loud. She also seems to enunciate a little more clearly than the few times she's spoken to me in the past, like the subject in the photograph is slightly more in focus. It's obvious she's been working on it, and knowing she's continued to talk out loud makes my eyes tear up without even having heard a song yet.
"If you aren't ready to say the word, that's fine," she says. "I'll wait as long as you need me to. I just hope you don't mind this interruption tonight." she pushes the microphone away, then looks down to her guitar. Bambam leans into the microphone and looks at me.
"She can't hear what I'm saying right now, so I'll take this opportunity to tell you Lisa is full of shit. She doesn't want to wait anymore. She wants you to say the word more than she wants air. So please, for the sake of all that is holy, say the word tonight."
I laugh as I wipe a tear from my eye.
Lisa plays the opening chords to "Trouble," and I finally realize why Bobby made me wear this dress. Bambam leans forward and begins to sing, and I remain completely immobile as Bobby signs every word to the song while Lisa keeps her focus on the fingers strumming her guitar. Watching the three of them together, seeing the beauty they can create from a few words and guitars, is mesmerizing.
Lisa
When the song ends, I look up at her.
She's crying, but those tears are accompanied by a smile, and that's exactly what I was hoping I would see when I looked up from my guitar. Seeing her for the first time since I kissed her good-bye has a far greater effect on me than I thought it would. I'm trying my damndest to remember what it is I'm here to do, but all I want to do is toss my guitar aside, rush to her, and kiss her crazy.
Instead, I keep my eyes trained on hers while I play another song she helped me write. I begin the opening chords to "Maybe Someday." She smiles and clutches a hand to her chest while she watches me play.
It's times like these I'm actually thankful I can't hear. Not being distracted by anything at all allows me to focus on nothing but her. I can feel the music vibrating in my chest as I watch her lips singing along to the lyrics until the very last line.
I planned on playing a few more songs we wrote together, but seeing her has changed my mind. I want to get to the new songs I wrote for her, because I absolutely need to see her reaction to them. I start one of them, knowing Bobby and Bambam will have no problem falling into step with the change-up. Her eyes glisten when she realizes that this is a song she's never heard before, and she leans forward in her chair, focusing intently on the three of us.
Jennie
There are only twenty-six letters in the English alphabet. You would think there would only be so much you could do with twenty-six letters. You would think there were only so many ways those letters could make you feel when mixed up and shoved together to make words.
However, there are infinite ways those twenty-six letters can make a person feel, and this song is living proof. I'll never understand how a few simple words strung together can change a person, but this song, these words, are completely changing me. I feel like my maybe someday just became my right now.
HOLD ON TO YOU
The cool air running through my hair
Nights like these, doesn't seem fair
For you and I to be so far away
The stars all shimmer like a melody
Like they're playing for you and me
But only I can hear their sound
Maybe if I ask them they will play for you
I try wishing on one, maybe I'll try two
It doesn't look like there's much for me to do
I want to hold on to you
Just like these memories I can't undo
I want to hold on to you
Without you here that's kind of hard to do
I want to hold
I want to hold on to you
The front seat's empty, and I know
When it's just me I seem to go
To places I never wanted to
I need you here to be a light
Star in the sky brighten up my night
Sometimes I need the dark to see
So come on, come on, turn it on for me
Just a little light, and I'll be able to see
Promise like a comet you won't fly by me
I want to hold on to you
Just like these memories I can't undo
I want to hold on to you
Without you here that's kind of hard to do
I want to hold
I want to hold on to you
Lisa
I finish the song and don't give myself time to look up at her before I begin playing another one. I'm afraid if I look at her, I'll lose every bit of willpower still keeping me up on this stage. I want to go to her so bad, but I know how important it is for her to hear this next song. I also don't want to be the one to make the final choice. If she's ready to be with me, she knows what I need from her. If she's not ready, I'll respect her decision.
However, if she's not ready to begin the life I know we could have together by the end of this song, I don't know if she'll ever be ready.
I keep my eyes trained on my fingers as they work the strings of the guitar. I glance at Bambam, and he leans forward into the microphone, his voice starting on cue. I glance to Bobby, and he begins signing the words.
I slowly scan the crowd and find her again.
Our eyes lock.
I don't look away.
Jennie
"Wow," Sorn whispers. Her eyes are glued to the stage just like mine. Just like every other pair of eyes in the room. The three of them make one hell of a team, but knowing that these words are Lisa's words and she wrote them specifically for me leaves me feeling more than overwhelmed. I can't look away from her. For the entire length of the song, I barely move. I barely breathe.
LET IT BEGIN
Time went fast
Time went fast till it was gone
You think it's right
You think it's right until it's wrong
Even after all this time
I still want you
Even after all my mind
Put me through
So won't you
Won't you let it begin
So won't you
Won't you let it begin
You hold it out
You hold your heart out in your hand
I snatch it up
I snatch it up fast as I can
Even after all this time
I still want you
Even after all my mind
Put me through
I stand here at your door
Until you come and let me in
I want to be your end
But you gotta let it begin
So won't you
Won't you let it begin
So won't you
Won't you just say when
Lisa
Our gazes never deviate from each other. Throughout the song, her focus remains solely on mine and mine on hers. When the song ends, I don't move. I wait for her mind and her life to catch up to her heart, and I hope it happens soon. Tonight. Right now.
She wipes tears from her eyes, then lifts her hands. She holds up her left index finger, brings her right index finger close to the left and circles it around, and then the tips of her fingers touch.
I can't move.
She just signed for me.
She just said "when."
Seeing her sign is something I never expected. It's something I never would have even asked her to do. Learning how to communicate with me the whole time we've been apart is the most amazing thing anyone has ever done for me.
I'm shaking my head, unable to get it through my mind that this girl is willingly mine and she's perfect and beautiful and good and, holy shit, I love her so much.
She's smiling, but I'm still frozen in shock.
She laughs at my response and signs the word again, several times. "When, when, when."
Bambam shoves my shoulder, and I look over at him. He laughs. "Go," he signs, nodding his head in Jennie's direction. "Go get your girl."
I immediately drop my guitar to the floor and rush off the stage. She pushes away from her table as soon as she sees me making my way toward her. She's only a few feet away, but I can't get to her fast enough. I take in the dress she has on and make a mental note to thank Bobby later. I have a feeling he had something to do with that.
I look into her tear-filled eyes when I finally reach her. She's smiling up at me, and for the first time since the moment I met her, we're looking at each other without a trace of guilt or worry or regret or shame.
She throws her arms around my neck, and I pull her to me and bury my face in her hair. I hold her head firmly against me and close my eyes. We hold on to each other as if we're afraid to let go.
I can feel her crying, so I put enough space between us so I can look into her eyes. She lifts her head, and I've never seen tears look more beautiful.
"You signed," I say out loud.
She smiles. "You spoke. A lot."
"I'm not very good at it," I admit. I know my words are hard to understand, and I still feel uncomfortable when I speak, but I love seeing her eyes when she hears my voice. It makes me want to speak every single word I possibly can right here and now.
"I'm not good, either," she says. She pulls away from me and lifts her hands to sign. "Bobby has been helping me. I only know about two hundred words, but I'm learning."
It's been several months since I last saw her, and while I've been trying to believe she still wanted to be with me, I did have my doubts. I was starting to question our decision to wait before starting our relationship. What I never expected was for her to spend those months learning how to communicate with me in a way my own parents didn't even care enough to learn.
"I just fell completely in love with you," I say to her. I glance at Sorn, who is still seated at the table. "Did you see it, Sorn? Did you see me just fall in love with her?"
Sorn rolls her eyes, and I feel Jennie laugh. I look back down at her. "I did. Like twenty seconds ago. I fell completely in love with you."
She smiles and mouths her next words slowly so I can understand her. "I fell first."
When the last word passes her lips, I catch it with my mouth. Since the second I walked away from these lips, I've done nothing but think about the moment I would get to taste them again. She pulls me tightly against her, and I kiss her hard, then delicately, then fast and slow and every way in between. I kiss her every way I can possibly kiss her, because I plan on loving her every way I can possibly love her. Every single time we refused to cave in to our feelings in the past makes this kiss completely worth the sacrifices. This kiss is worth all the tears, all the heartache, all the pain, all the struggles, all the waiting.
She's worth it all.
She's worth more.
Jennie
We make it to my apartment somehow between all the kissing. She releases me long enough to let me unlock the door, but she loses her patience as soon as it's unlocked. I laugh when she shoves the door open and pushes me inside. She closes the door, locks it, and turns around to face me again. We look at each other for several seconds.
"Hi," she says simply.
I laugh. "Hi."
She looks around the room nervously before her eyes fall back to mine. "Is that good enough?" she asks.
I cock my head, because I don't really understand her question. "Is what good enough?"
She grins. "I was hoping that was enough talk for tonight."
Oh.
I get her question now.
I nod slowly, and she smiles, then steps forward and kisses me. She bends slightly and lifts me by the waist, wrapping my legs around her. She secures her arms around my back and begins walking me toward my bedroom.
As many times as I've seen this happen in movies and read about it in books, I've never actually been picked up and carried before. I think I'm in love with it. Being carried into a bedroom by Lisa is quite possibly my new favorite thing out of any and all things.
That is, until she kicks my bedroom door shut behind her. Maybe Lisa kicking doors shut is my new favorite thing.
She gently lowers me to the bed, and even though I'm sad that she's not carrying me anymore, I'm a little bit happier to find myself beneath her. Every single move she makes is better and sexier than the last one. She pauses for a moment as she hovers over me, and her eyes roam sensually over my entire body, until they come to a pause on the hem of my dress. She reaches down and pushes it up, and I lift myself up off the bed just enough for her to pull it over my head.
She sucks in a breath when she looks down at me and sees that the only thing coming between her and a completely naked me is a very thin layer of panty. She begins to lower herself on top of me, but I push on her chest and shake my head, tugging on her shirt to let her know it's her turn. She grins and quickly pulls her shirt over her head, then leans in toward me again. I push against her once more, and she reluctantly lifts herself up, shooting me a look of amused annoyance. I point to her jeans, and she backs away from the bed, and in two swift movements, the rest of her clothes are somewhere on my bedroom floor. I don't quite catch where she tossed them, because my eyes are sort of preoccupied.
She makes her way on top of me again, and I don't stop her this time. I welcome her by wrapping my legs around her waist and my arms around her back and guiding her mouth back to mine.
We mold and fit together so perfectly it's as if we were made for this sole purpose. Her left hand fits perfectly into mine as she brings my arm above my head and presses it into the mattress. Her tongue melds perfectly with mine as she continues to tease my entire mouth as if it were made for this very purpose. Her right hand seamlessly conforms to my outer thigh as she digs her fingers into my skin and shifts her weight perfectly against me.
Her mouth leaves mine long enough to taste my jaw . . . my neck . . . my shoulder.
I don't know how being consumed by her could lend clarity to my purpose in life, but it absolutely feels that way. Everything about me and her and life makes so much more sense when we're together like this. She makes me feel more beautiful. More important. More loved. More needed. I feel more everything, and with every second that passes, I become more and more greedy, wanting all of every single part of her.
I push against her chest, needing space between us so I can sign to her. She looks down at my hands when she realizes what I'm doing. I hope I get it right, because I've practiced signing this sentence no fewer than a thousand times since I last saw her.
"I have something I need to say before we do this."
She pulls back a few inches, watching my hands, waiting.
I sign the words "I love you."
Her eyebrows draw apart, and relief floods her eyes. She lowers her mouth to my hands and kisses them, over and over, then quickly pulls farther away, unwrapping my legs from around her waist. Just when I begin to fear she's come to some absurd notion that we need to stop, she lowers herself to my side but leans over me and presses her ear against my chest.
"I want to feel you say it."
I press my lips into her hair, then lightly secure her against me. "I love you, Lisa," I whisper.
Her grip tightens around my waist, so I continue repeating it several times.
I keep her head pressed against my chest with both hands. She releases her grip on my waist and trails her hand over my stomach, causing my muscles to clench beneath her touch. She continues stroking her hand in sensuous circles over my stomach. I stop repeating the words and focus on where her hand is traveling, but she stops abruptly.
"I don't feel you saying it," she says.
"I love you," I quickly repeat. When the words leave my lips, her fingers begin moving again. As soon as I'm quiet, her fingers stop.
It doesn't take me long to figure out what game she's playing. I grin and say it again.
"I love you."
Her fingers slip inside the top edge of my panties, and my voice grows quiet again. It's really hard for me to speak when her hand is that close. It's really hard to do anything. Her fingers come to a pause just inside my panties when she doesn't feel me talking. I want her hand to keep moving, so I somehow breathe the words.
"I love you."
Her hand slides further inside and stops. I close my eyes and say it again. Slowly.
"I . . . love . . . you."
What she does next with her hand causes me to repeat the words again instantly.
And again.
And again.
And again.
And again and again and again, until my panties are somewhere on the floor, and I've said the words so many times and so fast that I'm almost screaming them now. She continues to prove with the expertise of her hand that she's quite possibly the absolute best listener I've ever encountered.
"I love you," I whisper one last time between faltered and shallow breaths. I'm too weak to utter the words again, and my hands fall away from her head and land against the mattress with a thud.
She lifts her head away from my chest and scoots upward until her face is so close to mine our noses brush. "I love you, too," she says with a smug grin.
I smile, but my smile fades when she rolls away from me, leaving me alone on the bed. I'm too exhausted and spent to reach out for her. However, she returns to the bed as quickly as she left it. She tears open a condom wrapper and keeps her eyes focused on mine, never once looking away.
The way she's looking at me, as if I'm the only thing that matters in her world, makes the moment take on a whole new feel. I'm completely consumed, not by waves of pleasure but by waves of raw emotion. I didn't know I could feel someone this much. I didn't know I could need someone this much. I had no idea I was capable of sharing this kind of connection with someone.
Lisa lifts a hand and wipes away a tear from my temple, then dips her head and kisses me, gentle and soft, coaxing even more tears out of me. It's the perfect kiss for the perfect moment. I know she feels what I'm feeling, because my tears don't alarm her at all. She knows they're not tears of regret or sadness. They're simply tears. Emotional tears stemming from an emotional moment that I never imagined could be this incredible.
She's waiting patiently for my permission, so I nod softly, and it's all the confirmation she needs. She lowers her cheek to mine and slowly begins to ease herself against me. I squeeze my eyes shut and focus on trying to relax, but my entire body is way too tense.
I've only ever had sex with one guy, and he didn't mean half as much to me as Lisa does. The thought of sharing this experience with Lisa, as much as I want to, makes me so nervous I'm physically unable to hide my discomfort.
She can sense my apprehension, so she pauses and stills herself above me. I love how in tune she is with me already. She looks down at me, her dark brown eyes searching mine. She takes both of my hands and pulls them over my head, then laces our fingers together and presses them into the mattress. She leans into my ear. "Want me to stop?"
I quickly shake my head no.
She laughs softly. "Then you have to relax, Jen."
I bite my bottom lip and nod, completely loving the fact that she just said "Jen" out loud. She runs her nose down my jaw-line, then brings her lips close to mine. Every touch sends waves of heat coursing through me, but it doesn't ease my apprehension. Everything about this moment is so perfect I'm afraid I might do something to mess it up. It can't get any better, so that only leaves things with one direction to go.
"Are you nervous?" she asks. Her voice brushes across my mouth, and I slide my tongue over my bottom lip, convinced that I could taste her words if I tried.
I nod, and her eyes soften with her smile.
"Me, too," she whispers. She squeezes my hands tighter and then lays her head across my bare chest. I can feel the rhythm of her body rise and fall against mine with every tense breath. Her entire body sighs, and one by one, each muscle begins to relax. Her hands are still, and she's not exploring my body or listening to me sing or having me tell her I love her.
She's still, because she's listening to me.
She's listening to the beat of my heart.
Her head lifts off my chest in one swift motion as she locks eyes with mine. Whatever realization she's just had causes her gaze to pierce mine with excitement.
"Do you have earplugs?" she says.
Earplugs?
I know the confusion can be seen in my expression. I nod anyway and point to the nightstand. She leans over me, opens the drawer, and feels around inside. When she finds them, she lowers herself beside me again, then places them in the palm of my hand. She motions for me to put them in my ears.
"Why?"
She smiles and kisses me, then trails her lips to my ear. "I want you to hear me love you."
I look down at the earplugs, then back up at her questioningly. "How can I hear you if I'm wearing these?"
She shakes her head, then places her hands over my ears. "Not here," she says. She moves a hand to my chest. "I want you to hear me from right here."
That's all the explanation I need. I quickly put the earplugs in, then adjust my head on my pillow. All the noise around me slowly fades away. I wasn't aware of all the sounds I was taking in until they no longer run through my head. I don't hear the clock ticking anymore. I no longer hear the usual activity outside my window. I can't hear the sheets moving beneath us or the pillow under my head or the bed when she shifts her weight.
I hear nothing.
She grabs my hand and opens up my palm, then turns my hand around and places it over my heart. Once my palm is flush against my heart, she reaches to my face and brushes her hand over my eyes, closing them. She scoots herself away from me until she's no longer touching any part of me.
She becomes still, and I no longer feel her moving next to me.
It's quiet.
It's dark.
I hear absolutely nothing. I'm not sure this is working out the way she imagined.
I hear nothing but complete silence. I hear what Lisa hears every moment of her life. The only thing I'm aware of is my own heartbeat and nothing else. Nothing at all.
Wait.
My heartbeat.
I open my eyes and look at her. She's several inches away from me on the bed, smiling. She knows I hear it. She smiles softly, then pulls my hand away from my heart and places it against her chest. Tears begin to well in my eyes. I have no idea how or if I even deserve her, but there's one thing I know for sure. As long as she's a part of it, I'll never live a life of mediocrity. My life with Lisa will be nothing short of remarkable.
She rolls on top of me and lowers her cheek to mine, holding completely still for several long seconds.
I can't hear her breaths, but I feel them as they fall against my neck.
I can't hear her movements, but I feel her when she begins making the softest, most subtle shifts against me.
Our hands are still locked between us, so I focus on the beat of her heart, drumming against my palm.
Beat, beat, pause.
Beat, beat, pause.
Beat, beat, pause.
I can feel my entire body relaxing beneath her while she continues to make the subtlest of movements against me. She presses her hips into mine for two seconds, then relaxes and pulls back for a brief second before repeating the motion. She repeats this movement several times, and I can feel my need for her growing with each rhythmic movement against me.
The more my desire builds, the more impatient I become. I want to feel her mouth on mine. I want to feel her hands all over me. I want to feel her push inside me and make me her completely.
The more I think about what I want from her, the more responsive I become to the subtle shifts of her weight against me. The more responsive I become, the faster our hearts race against the palms of our hands.
Beat, beat, pause.
Beatbeat, pause.
Beatbeat pause.
Beatbeat pause.
The faster our hearts race, the quicker her rhythm becomes, matching each beat of my heart movement for movement.
I gasp.
She's moving to the sound of my heart.
I wrap my free arm around her neck and focus on her heartbeat, instantly aware that our hearts are perfectly in sync. I tighten my legs around her waist and lift myself against her, wanting her to make my heart beat even faster. She skims her lips across my cheek until they're flush against my mouth, but she doesn't kiss me. The silence around me makes me even more aware of the pattern of her breath falling against my skin. I focus on my palm against her chest and feel her quick intake of air, seconds before I taste the sweetness of her breath as she exhales, teasing my mouth.
Inhale, exhale.
Inhale, exhale.
Inhale, exhale.
Her rhythmic breathing becomes quicker when her tongue slips inside my mouth, gently caressing the tip of mine.
If I could hear, I'm positive I would have just heard myself whimper. It's becoming a habit whenever she's around.
I move my hand to the back of her head, needing to taste more of her. I pull her to me with such sudden urgency she moans into my mouth. Feeling her moan without hearing it is probably the most sensual thing I've ever experienced. Her voice as it passes through me does more than hearing it ever could.
Lisa slides her hand away from my heart and presses her forearms into the mattress on both sides of my head. She boxes me in with her arms, and I slide my hand away from her chest, needing to grab hold of her with all my strength. What little I have left, anyway.
I feel her pull farther back, and then, without hesitation, she pushes inside me, claiming me, filling me.
I . . .
Can't . . .
My heart.
Christ. She just silenced my heart, because I can no longer feel it at all. The only thing I feel is her moving against me . . . away from me . . . inside of me . . . into me. I'm completely consumed by her.
I keep my eyes closed and listen to her without hearing a thing, experiencing her silently, the same way she's experiencing me. I soak in every single beautiful thing about the smoothness of her skin and the feel of her breath and the taste of our moans, until it's impossible to tell us apart.
We continue to explore each other quietly, finding all the parts of ourselves we've only been able to imagine up to this point.
When my body begins to tense again, it's not at all because I'm nervous this time. I can sense her muscles clenching beneath my hands, and I grip her shoulders, ready to fall with her. She presses her cheek firmly to mine, and I feel her groan against my neck, making two final, long thrusts at the same second as I feel the moans escaping my throat.
She begins to tremble with her release but somehow pulls her hand between us again and presses it against my heart. She's shaking against me, and I'm doing my best to regain control of my own shudders while she begins to slow herself down, once again to the rhythm of my heart.
Her movements grow so soft and subtle I can barely feel them through all the tears I'm crying. I don't even know why I'm crying, because this is by far the most indescribable feeling that has ever come over me.
Maybe that's why I'm crying.
Lisa relaxes on top of me and brings her mouth back to mine. She kisses me so softly and for so long my tears eventually subside and are replaced with complete silence, accompanied only by the rhythm of our hearts.
Lisa
I close the bathroom door and return to her on the bed. Her face is illuminated by the moonlight pouring through the windows. Her mouth is curled up into a soft smile as I lower myself down beside her. I slide my arm beneath her shoulders, then lay my head on her chest and close my eyes.
I love the sound of her.
I love her. Everything about her. I love that she's never judged me. I love that she understands me. I love that despite everything I've put her heart through, she's done nothing but support my decisions, no matter how much they destroyed her at the time. I love her honesty. I love her selflessness. Most of all, I love that I'm the one who gets to love all these things about her.
"I love you," I feel her say.
I close my eyes and listen as she continues to repeat the phrase again and again. I adjust my ear until it's directly over her heart, savoring every single thing about her. Her smell, her touch, her voice, her love.
I've never felt so much at once.
I've never needed to feel more.
I lift my head and look back down into her eyes.
She's a part of me now.
I'm a part of her.
I kiss her softly on the nose and mouth and chin, then press my ear against her heart again. For the first time in my life, I hear absolutely everything.