Page 70 of The Five Stages of Courting Dalisay Ramos

He watches her as she squirms under his touch and unravels in his arms. She cries out, releasing the tension that’s been building inside her. The pleasure rolls over her in wave after wave.

Evan raises an eyebrow as he lifts himself from her, smiling in that satisfied, self-assured way that used to drive her crazy, and crawls to meet her lips.

Still pulsing with the rush of her heart, she pushes him aside, making him laugh, and gets to her knees and straddles him again.

She can’t control many things in her life, but she can control this. She lets him get adjusted with his condom, and then she’s on top of him, kissing him, losing herself in the feeling of him under her because now it’s her turn to make him feel good. “God, Dalisay.” His voice is throaty and raw and the muscles in his neck strain under her lips. Goosebumps rise on his skin as she breathes with each thrust, driving him deeper inside her.

He lets out another gasp, then jerks and wraps his arms around her, holding her so tightly against his chest, she knows exactly how it feels to never want to let go.

When they’re done, flushed and breathless, Evan kisses the slope of her neck, her jaw, and then her mouth, like he’s planting promises.

“You made dinner …,” she says, regretfully, settling into his side, his arm tucked around her. “You worked so hard, and all I did was talk about my drama.”

“Believe it or not, I want to hear about your drama. I care about you.”

In his arms, she feels safe and secure, nothing like she’s ever felt with anyone else. This is how it’s supposed to be. “You’re sure about the pasta?”

“It’ll make great leftovers.” Evan reaches over to the nightstand and hands her his phone. “I think tonight is a pizza in bed kind of night anyway. Order whatever you want. I’ll be right back.” He plants a kiss on her lips and then disappears to the bathroom to clean up.

Dalisay settles into Evan’s bed and pulls the sheet over her chest and starts scrolling through their favorite pizza place’s menu, when Evan says, from the bathroom, “You know, I was thinking … What if you didn’t have to leave?”

“What do you mean?”

“Would you consider, at some point, moving in with me?”

Dalisay nearly falls out of bed. “Are you serious?”

Evan reappears, smiling, and pulls his T-shirt on, popping out through the neck hole. “Yeah. I mean, you don’t have to move here, we could find our own place.” He locates his underwear and hops into it. She would have thought it would have been sexy, if not for the fact that her whole body has gone cold.

“Are you crazy?” Her eyes practically bug out of her skull.

Evan’s body tenses. “I thought … Wait, is it too fast?”

“Too fast? Evan, did the five stages of courtship teach you nothing?” Her heart feels like it’s about to burst out of her chest.

Evan reaches over and turns on the bedside lamp. The warm light fills the room, and she can see him clearly now ashe watches her with open sincerity. “I’m sorry, I thought we were ready.”

Dalisay rakes her fingers through her hair and takes a deep breath. She’s still naked, and she feels exposed. She locates her shirt and buttons it up, along with her jeans. She didn’t mean to jump on him like that, it just came as such a shock. Most people in Manila live with their parents well into adulthood, even when they’re engaged. She expected this as much as a kick in the gut. What Evan’s talking about is beyond the realm of propriety.

She’s not ready, is she? It’s not that easy, is it?

Evan licks his lips. “It’s really not that big of a deal in America. Couples move in together all the time. It’s kind of like a marriage test run. You see how compatible you are cohabitating, see how well you work together assembling IKEA furniture, figuring out each other’s quirks, test out if you could actually put up with me every day.”

For a brief moment, Dalisay can actually picture it: her and Evan kneeling on the living room rug, assembling a new bookcase from IKEA, Dalisay organizing all of the parts into neat piles while Evan pores over the instruction manual; waking up in his bed, no—theirbed—and brushing her teeth next to him in the bathroom; reading together on the couch, not worrying about checking the clock to make sure she gets home on time.

But it would fundamentally change her relationship with her family. Would she really be willing to risk all of that?

“It’s different for Filipinos. JM and Pinky have been together for five years and they still live with their parents.” Dalisay falls back into her pillow, staring up at the ceiling, letting her mind race. This is yet another difference betweentheir two cultures. “Living with a man is almost unthinkable for an unmarried Filipino girl,” she says.

The corner of Evan’s mouth lifts. “Then I guess we’ll have to get married.”

Dalisay looks at him and his smile drops like an anvil. “Don’t even joke about that.” Her voice is sharper than she meant.

Evan rocks back, his shoulder dropping, and his face softens. “I’m not joking.”

Dalisay palms the top of her head, heart pounding.Marriage? But … but—is it too soon?“People shouldn’t rush into marriage. Divorce is a terrible thing.”

“Divorce?” Evan almost laughs but catches himself. “Trust me, I know … but how did we get to divorce?”

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