Page 94 of The Idiot

People in healthy relationships give each other space. At least, that’s what I’ve heard. Leaning back in the ratty old recliner in my ice hut, I stare at my fishing line in the freezing water between my feet.

I love being out here. I come every chance I can get in the winter, but I’m anxious to get home already and I’ve only been here for an hour. If I thought I was a goner for Jesse before, I don’t know what to call myself now.

He said he was going Christmas shopping, and that I wasn’t invited. I told him not to worry about buying me anything this year, that I already received more than I could ever ask for. The mischievous glint in his eyes, however, told me my request will be ignored. Bradley was right—heisa little shit.

Snickering, I shake my head and bob my pole up and down. I’m still getting used to the fact that life will always be fun now that Jesse’s in it, permanently.

After another half hour passes, it’s taking everything in me to keep my ass planted in this chair. The coffee I brought probably isn’t helping, giving me a kick of caffeine. I need itmost mornings lately, after staying up until all hours, laughing, and being ridiculous with Jesse.

There’s a sound of crunching snow outside. I listen, trying to determine what kind of animal is lurking nearby. The door handle to my hut turns, giving me my answer. It’s a Jesse-shaped animal, beaming from ear to ear.

He hoists up a plate that looks like it’s full of homemades. “Brought you some cookies.”

“You walked all the way out here to bring me cookies?” My hut is at least two acres deep into the woods behind my house, not accessible by driving.

Setting the plate down on one of the makeshift shelves on the wall, he peels off his gloves. “No. I have a surprise. The cookies are just a bonus.”

I’m about to interrogate him when he unzips his winter coat. I see skin. Bare skin. It’s thirty degrees outside. How is he not wearing a shirt? Smiling anxiously, he shrugs out of his coat, revealingonearticle of clothing, if you could call it that.

“Is that my harness?”

Shrugging, he smirks and starts on the button of his winter overall pants. “You weren’t using it.”

My blood warms with each centimeter he lowers the zipper. That… looks like a jockstrap.

Yup. Definitely a jockstrap.

Swallowing, I watch as he unfastens the sides of his overall legs. They crumple to the floor at his feet, leaving him in only his winter boots, the jock, and my harness. It is now my favorite ensemble.

Clearing my throat, I realize I’m gawking. “Well, this is a nice surprise.”

Smiling, he takes my fishing pole from my hand and props it on the bench along the wall, using the handle of my ice auger to hold it down. Tromping forward, he closes the foot between us and tucks his knees next to my thighs in the chair, straddling my lap.

“Yeah? I was hoping you’d think so.”

Shaking my head, I run my hands up the smooth skin of his sides. There’s gooseflesh under my touch. “Not that I don’t appreciate the surprise, but what am I supposed to do now that you’ve got me all hard? Eat my feelings?” I nod toward the cookies. “It’s a bit too cold and cramped in here for anything else.”

“Nonsense. I can help you with that, too.” He goes to town on the buttons of my flannel and doesn’t stop when he gets to the fly of my overall pants. “We can’t go to either of our houses. Your Mom is off work for Christmas vacation, and the stupid electrician finally decided to show up and do the wiring on my hot tub building.”

“He did? That’s good news. Maybe we’ll be able to get it hooked up before Christmas.”

“Yeah. Probably.” He shrugs like he wasn’t always jabbering on and on about it mere months ago. “But I don’t want to wait any longer.”

Snorting, I watch dumbly as he reaches in my overalls and tugs my sweatpants and boxers down. His freaking hands are so damn cold; I hate to tell him that this probably isn’t going to be as enjoyable as he thinks.

“You won’t have to wait if the electrician is finally there now,” I point out, tracing the line of his spine. “I’ll help you get the tub set up as soon as he’s done.”

His hands still and he blinks at me. “No. I meant, I don’t want to wait any longer to have you.”

“Tohave me? You already have me. I thought we established that at Thanksgiving,” I tease, rubbing his jaw with my knuckles. “Or did you mean the electrician put the kibosh on your fisting plans? Because I’m sure we could be quiet enough inside your house that he won’t hear us in your bedroom.”

Licking his lips, he grips the lapels of my shirt. “No. I mean, I don’t want to wait any longer tohaveyou.” When I can’t formulate words, he adds, “Insideme. I want you, Murph. I’m ready.”

He marched all the way out here so he could…

Damn. Now I reallyamsurprised.

The last few weeks have been different. Before, our intimacy felt like a race to a finish line, as though we were each operating on borrowed time. Now, even the most innocent moments are like a marathon, savoring and full of appreciation. I’ve noticed a heightening in his sensuality, the way he touches me, the way he responds to me.

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