Page 65 of One Chance to Stay
“Then Evelyn suggested this. And here we are. Half-naked. Having a heart-to-heart about my future. It seems we’ve come full circle.”
“Well?”
“Well, what?”
“Are you going to apply?”
I hesitated. The answer should have been a simple yes. I fill out a few questions, write an essay, and then bust ass at the bar to afford it. Easy enough, until I thought of the upheaval it’d invite. Things would change, and I’d have to give up the stability I created over the last few years.
“I know you’d do a lot of good.” He gave my leg another squeeze. “Don’t ask me for a personal reference.”
“Why not?” I asked, head shooting up.
“I think you’re a pain in the ass.” When I shot him a dirty look, he shook his head. “I said what I said.”
“Does that mean you’re not staying?”
He stood up, and I feared I had offended him. Did I misread the shutting of the door? How had I put my foot in my mouth this time? Just as I was about to jump to my feet, he pulled off his jacket. He hung it on the knob of a dresser drawer. He kicked off his boots before turning around.
I barely blinked as he disrobed. The male physique couldn’t look more different from a woman’s. His calves turned into tree-trunk thighs, and instead of his hips curving inward to his waist, they continued to widen with his belly. Different, but still amazing. As I followed his pelt up his chest to his beard, it was his eyes that held my attention. Brown. Gentle. Intense. Beautiful.
I moved the laptop to the nightstand and pulled back the blankets before climbing into bed. I couldn’t help but grin as he kicked off his jeans and folded them.
“At the risk of ruining an otherwise perfect evening.” He finished taking off his socks and even folded them. Unfortunately, he opted to leave on his briefs. “Why did you not want to come to the wedding?”
He gave a shrug.
I pulled back the blankets, the universal sign of get your handsome ass over here. He took a steadying breath, standing next to the bed. I could see the Seamus from our first night together reemerge. Hesitation. Worry. Fear. It hadn’t vanished, but neither had the look of longing.
I patted the mattress like he had earlier.
He climbed into bed, leaving a gap between us. I pulled back the blanket, almost tucking him in. I turned off the light, staying on my side of the bed. In the dark, he lay on his back, unmoving.
“It’s different.” I held my tongue, once again letting Seamus set the pace. “Grace’s mom understood what was going on. We didn’t have a word for it back then. I knew something was different, but I didn’t…” He let out a long sigh.
We had something in common, but it didn’t make us the same. I couldn’t fathom having this conversation thirty years ago, especially not in a community where gossip moved at the speed of light.
I reached over, taking his hand. He squeezed.
“I didn’t want anybody to know.” He took his time. I gave it to him. “Walter came over to help with the garden. Other than asking about Grace, we never talked about the divorce. He made a fresh pot of coffee and sat me down. I wasn’t prepared for the conversation. He didn’t say he knew. But he did.”
For thirty years, he isolated himself out of fear.
“They love you,” I said. “Allof you.”
“I’m seeing that.” He shifted onto his side. With each exhale, the warmth of his breath rolled along my cheek. I could hear the shake as he inhaled. He whispered, “I don’t know how to do this.”
“This?”
“This.”
“If you haven’t figured it out, I have no idea what I’m doing. It’s kind of my thing lately. I don’t want to put it under a microscope. If I have to start slapping labels on things, I think I’d have a meltdown.”
I imagined he nodded in the darkness.
“But, if we’re being honest. Whateverthisis, I like it.”
“You’re growing on me.” He scooted closer. “Roll over.”
