Page 49 of Purity

Because I want to convince him to be with me, but I can’t say that to Mari. She would rightly tell me that I’m slipping back into my old patterns.

If I want to be in a relationship with him, I need to say something instead of passively waiting for him wake up and realize he’s madly in love with me.

This week can’t just be about sex. If I really want to assert myself and start asking for the things I want, I have to also make myself vulnerable. I told him today that you can’t have love without risk, and I am only now recognizing my hypocrisy. Of the two of us, I’m the biggest coward.

FOURTEEN

Cole

She’s here.

She parked her car outside my house a moment ago, and her little footsteps are right now sounding along the concrete. I rush over to the front door and open it before she even gets the chance to knock. The sight of her standing at the threshold sends a wave of possessiveness over me. She’s wearing a T-shirt and sweats—probably because she knows there’s no point in dressing up since we’ll be naked most of the time—and a duffel bag hangs from her shoulder.

She’s here to stay.

She’s mine.

I pull her into my arms and kiss the soft skin on her neck. I keep my hand on her lower back as I guide her inside.

“You’re so much touchier than you usually are with me,” she says.

I smile and lead her into the kitchen. “I’m going to get a lot touchier than this.”

She glances at the platter of baked ziti on the table and smiles. “You made dinner.”

“I tried. You know I’m not the best cook, so don’t get your hopes up.” I grab the bag from her shoulder. “How about I unpack this while you start eating?”

Her brow knits. “It’s not that much stuff. I don’t really see the need to unpack.”

I shake my head. “You’re unpacking. I cleared a drawer in my bathroom and made space in my closet. For the next week, you live here.”

When a childish grin spreads over her face, something twinges in my chest. She’s just as excited at the thought of her living here as I am.

“This feels so naughty,” she says.

My brow furrows, even as a smile tugs at lips. “Unpacking your bag is the least naughty thing you’ll be doing this week.”

“You don’t understand. Living with your boyfriend is one of the worst things a Christian girl can do. Having sex with your boyfriend is one thing, because even if you do it multiple times, you can always tell yourself you just messed up, but living with him is committing yourself to a life of sin…” Her smile fades.

“What?”

“I just called you my boyfriend.”

I ought to be alarmed that I didn’t even notice, but it seems like nothing can drown out the euphoria of finally letting go. I shoot her a reassuring smile and lean forward to kiss her on the cheek. “It’s okay. I basically am your boyfriend for the week. Alright, eat up. I’ll join you in a minute.”

After walking into my bedroom, I set her bag on my bed and unzip it. A pair of pink pajama shorts sits right at the top, and something about the sight of it makes my stomach flip over. I’ve never seen her wear pajamas before. During the countless hours we’ve spent together, there have always been strict boundaries.

As much as I want her naked this whole week, a part of me craves to see her as she is on a regular night, wearing these little shorts. I want to watch her brush her teeth with her hair damp from the shower. I want to wait quietly on my bed while she writes in her prayer journal, as I know she does every night.

I want every part of her that I’ve missed.

“Oh my gosh, the ziti is delicious,” she calls out, and I smile to myself.

It’s not delicious. I tried a bite of it already, but she’s always overly enthusiastic about the food I make for her. Maybe even especially when it isn’t particularly good, as if she’s worried I’ll pick up on the fact that she doesn’t like it and my feelings will be hurt. It’s one of her many small kindnesses that made me fall like a ton of bricks in those first few months we were becoming friends.

“I left it in the oven too long,” I call back. “The cheese got brown.”

“No, I love burnt cheese!”

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