Page 292 of Falling Backwards
He nods.“And while it washes, we….”
I don’t know how we became close enough to kiss again, but it happened and is happening.And I don’t know which of us sparked off the chuckling, but we’re both doing it now.
He starts tugging my shirt up as well.
Yeah, we should get that bit of laundry going right away.
—
While we’re at his mom’s house, my attention keeps getting pulled in different directions, but I like it.There’s so much love everywhere I look.
Although Luke and I are both quite attentive at this little gathering, every now and then, I can’t help thinking back a few hours.
After we got his new shirt in the washing machine, we made out on his couch, which led to us definitely wanting more.He swore he wasn’t bothered by it being my time of the month and I thought that was wonderful, but I still didn’t feel up for sex, especially since the particular‘more’I had silently started craving was to make it all about him.I wanted to touch him.So I told him that.He was worried I would feel left out; I assured him I wouldn’t, so he admitted he wanted me to touch him too.And I couldn’t wrap my head around how good it made me feel to bring him pleasure in that way.It didn’t matter that I’d done it before, the first time in his bed—his moans, his hold on me, his kisses still pleased me to the core.
During our get-together here, I’ve caught him sneaking looks at me in ways that made me think he was recalling all of that as well.It always made my cheeks warm, which always made him smile.Then we’d resume helping get things ready for the meal, or talking to whichever parent had turned their attention to us, or any other thing we’d briefly slipped away from.
Speaking of parents: there’s love with them, too, because mine love Luke.
I knew they would, both because they trust that I’ve picked a good guy and because I know heisa good guy.Still, it has made something in me glow to see it come true.And he seems to love them, too, which adds to the glow especially because I know he was a little nervous to meet my dad.
‘I hope he’ll like me,’he confided in me in the car.
That hurt my heart and soothed it with warmth at the same time.
But he hasn’t been activelytryingto get my dad—or mom—to like him.He has been himself.Funny, respectful, kind, chill, helpful, and whatever mixture of cheeky and sarcastic has always pushed my buttons for better or worse.And they alreadylovehim.
They already love his mom, too, and she already loves them back.Just like I quickly bonded with her and her with me at Thanksgiving.
No tension.No hesitation.No questioning or pointed looks, no passive aggression, no rudeness.Just a good time.
There’s also been a lot to love about the food.Luke’s mom’s cooking is as delicious as Thanksgiving was.My mac and cheese and his chocolate cake are hits again in their own rights.
And conversations have been easy to carry.We’ve all gone from talk of my parents’ life in California to the book club Mrs.Bramhill started to how work is at Lucent—though Luke doesn’t bring up the new job hope, just pats my thigh under the table and smiles when I pat his hand in return.
But the instant one certain other thing gets brought up, I know neither of us is going to shy away from it.
“I mean it,” my dad says, after having just told Luke he and my mom don’t know how to thank him for helping me with Kyle.“We can’t tell you what it means to us that you took care of our precious girl.”
Even though Luke smiles, there isn’t a hint of brush-off about him.“I was glad to help, sir,” he says.“It was important to me.You don’t have to try to thank me.”
My dad shakes his head.“Sure we do.I know you two didn’t get along before that, but when you found out she needed someone to stand beside her, you did it.You made her feel safe.That’s what a real man does.”He puts a hand to his chest.“I’m proud of you and so damn grateful to you.”
‘I’m proud of you.’
I have trouble drawing a good breath because those words punch me in the chest—in the best way.Because I know they do that to Luke too.I can feel it in the sudden tremble of his hand around my thigh, can see it in his eyes.
Glancing around the table, though, I can’t tell that anyone else sees it like I do.I don’t think even his mom understands what,‘I’m proud of you,’sounds like to him when coming from a father figure.I don’t think she knows he’s never heard it until now.
“Thank you,” he says humbly.He clears his throat, follows my lead at tightly lacing our fingers together.“And, uh…no problem at all.Really.I really was glad to do it, and—” he lets out a surprisingly soft laugh, “—and I didn’t think it would lead to anything real, but…Maggie is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, so I’m grateful, too, that I decided to help her.”
With my heart fluttering, I can’t help interjecting, “So am I.And that I let you.”
The look he turns on me is bright.
I add, “You’rethe best thing to ever happen tome.”
No, the look is radiant.
