Page 58 of The Significance of Moving On

Just to be a smart-aleck I salute him and slide between the covers.

Before he moves to leave, those beautiful blue eyes of his sweep over me lying in his bed, soaring across every curve the way an eagle might soar over a mountain range. Words don’t exist in my vocabulary to explain the rush of seeing him happy because I’m here. There’s silence until he clears his throat, then we laugh not uncomfortably until we’ve gotten all the laughing out.

“Hurry back,” I order, and I can’t help to wonder what in the hell tomorrow will bring us.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The sheets, his comforter and pillows all bear witness to the night Casey and I spend together cradled in each other’s arms. When I wake, he still breathes lightly, gently blowing tufts of my hair because he has me tucked up under his arm, the way he’d tuck a precious package and I know one hundred percent that I never want to wake up anywhere else with anyone else.

Unfortunately for the both of us, Casey’s alarm beeps loudly. When his eyes pop open he stares at me with this look of shock which quickly dissipates as the smile spreads across his lips and up to those baby blues almost as if he’d forgotten that we aren’t hiding our feelings any longer but then quickly remembered.

“Hey,” he says, leaning forward to kiss the tip of my nose.

“Hey, yourself.”

“I can’t remember the last time I slept that well.” But he stops mid thought to shake his head, laughing lightly through his nose. “I’m stupid, aren’t I?”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because I remember exactly when I last slept this well.”

I keep quiet waiting for him to go on.

“When I got home from Traverse City,” he continues.

At first I don’t understand why that date would stick out for him, until it hits me. “The last time we slept in bed together?” He nods and we both smile. “I tried to tell you.”

Casey sighs long and exaggerated as he rolls partially on top of me, pinning my shoulders beneath him. Grasping each of my hands in one of his, he lifts our arms over my head.

“I’m going to kiss you now.”

Overly anxious, I lean up to try and meet his beautiful lips halfway, but in a surprise move, he bends his head back, looking at me pointedly. “Remember what I said. I can’t sleep with you yet.”

“You slept with me last night.”

“Not what I meant, and you know it. Please if you really care about me, don’t put me in that position okay?”

I bite my lip and nod. He’s serious, like serious as a heart attack, serious. And I close my eyes drinking in what he’s said. Then I open them and smile up at him. “You pinned me down. I’ve kept my end of the bargain.”

“I know, but we both know once the kissing starts you get handsy, and if you initiate sweetheart, I don’t know if I’ll be able to tell you no again.”

What he says is truthful, deserving some kind of attention but all I can think about now is how I’m going to have to actually keep myself in check with this man. Easier said than done. “Promise. No contact anywhere below the belt. Anything above that is fair game though, right? I mean, as long as we stick to designated areas?”

“Your touchable areas are a bit more restricted, but yes.” Then Casey leans his head down, brushing the tip of his nose along my jaw until he finds my mouth. Delicate kisses brush against my lips. They’re delicate but completely dizzying, becoming almost painful because I want him to take it deeper. “I read once,” he says through his kisses. “A good kiss can change lives. What do you think?”

Unable to form words, I barely get out a little head nod and I whimper against his skin. He laughs out a breath but thankfully takes it deeper, slowly. Always slow. And completely worth it. I will not screw this up.

His alarm unfortunately beeps loudly again intrusively reminding us that we’ve been lovingly wrapped in this cocoon of arms and kisses for the past ten minutes. Ten minutes of pure bliss.

“I have to go to work,” he says, resting his forehead against mine.

“I know.”

“I don’t want to go, not today.”

“I know,” I repeat myself, because I do. I know he feels the same as I do this morning, and I don’t want him to leave either.

One of us has to be the strong one and that burden shouldn’t always fall on his shoulders. The wind rattles the windows from the outside, pushing the cold inside the room even though he’d covered them with insulating plastic. It’s just that nasty out. I hate that half his job is spent exposed to these frigid conditions.

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