Thirty-Two
Thirty-Two
I get out of the shower, wrap a towel around my breasts, and inhale the fresh scent of Thomas’s soap all over me. My body is sore, and my lower abdomen is roiling. In front of the slightly fogged mirror, I flex my arm and touch my shoulder blade. The pain is still there, but it’s much more bearable. The rest of my body, however, is covered with red marks left by my tattooed man.
My… No, that’s probably not the right way to think about him. Still, he does feel a little bit more mine after tonight. And I always feel a little more his whenever he looks at me with those intense green eyes and I forget about the whole world, or when he touches me with that feverish passion of his. A passion that, tonight, he fully unleashed on me. Yet I did not miss the way he made every part of my body his own, except for my shoulder. He placed one soft kiss on it before diving into me with a thrust so powerful it bent my back. It felt like he was staking a claim on me. At the mere memory, I shudder and bring a hand to my belly, savoring those pain-and-pleasure twinges that only he can give me. I smile to myself, sinking my teeth into my lip, like a little girl with her first crush.
How stupid…
I shake myself out of these thoughts and in the absence of a brush, I detangle my wet hair with my fingers. Passing through the living room on my way to Thomas’s room, I hear the sound of a key in the lock before the front door opens and Larry appears before me. Seeing me, he drops the books he was holding to the floor.
“H-hi,” I mutter, caught off guard. I clutch the towel more tightly against my chest.
He stares at me with his mouth open, not saying anything, and I start to wonder why Thomas doesn’t come out of his room and put a merciful end to this awkward encounter. At that exact moment, he walks through the front door with a bag in his hands.
“Went down to the gas station to get you a toothbrush,” he says simply. He passes Larry as though he didn’t even notice his presence, and hands me the toothbrush. I smile and thank him, surprised by the thoughtfulness of the gesture.
“You’re not the girl who showed up here a few weeks ago in your slippers and pajamas, are you?” Larry asks, his eyes reduced to two slits, as if trying to focus on the memory.
Thomas gives me a crooked smile and whispers in my ear, “You came here in your pajamas?” He teases me, making my cheeks burn. I want to disappear. Now he and his enormous ego can have a good gloat.
I clear my throat and lean toward Larry. “Um, yeah. That’s me.” I extend a hand to introduce myself. “I’m Vanessa.”
“Larry, pleasure,” He takes my hand to shake and, as he does so, I realize his hand is completely coated in sweat. The moist feeling disgusts me, and I want to run back to the bathroom and wash myself all over again but I manage to restrain myself out of politeness. Thomas chuckles under his breath, as if he can clearly see my internal discomfort.
“Are you sleeping here tonight?” Larry asks, just a hint of annoyance in his voice as he loosens his grip. Then he bends down to pick up the books with awkward movements.
“Yes, she’s staying,” Thomas answers for me, sounding resolute. Does he want me to stay here with him? My heart does a somersault. I hadn’t planned on staying, and I certainly didn’t think he was going to request it.
“You know I sleep poorly when I know girls are here.” Larry turns to Thomas as he places his books on a shelf in the kitchen.
“And you know that if you keep fucking with me, I’ll make you sleep in the hallway,” threatens the surly tattooed grump standing next to me.
Larry stands up straight and puffs out his chest, ready for a fight. “T-this is my apartment too; you can’t just throw me out.”
“Yes, and that,” Thomas jerks his thumb at the door behind him, “is my room, and I’ll let whoever I want in there.” He ends the conversation and drags me back into said room. I barely manage to give Larry a wave goodbye before Thomas closes the door. I’m about to ask him why his roommate doesn’t want girls around, but then I remember that he had already explained it to me. Larry doesn’t want girls in the dorm because Thomas brought over so many that it started to bother him. And if I think about that too much, I’ll be sick to my stomach.
“Everything okay?” he asks, seeing my troubled expression. “Don’t pay him any mind. He’s a weird dude, but it’s all fine.” He opens a dresser drawer and casually tosses me one of his shirts before lying down on the bed with his arms crossed behind his head.
I take off the towel without too much trepidation. The darkened room, lit only by the glow of the moon, makes me feel a little braver. I put on his shirt and, with only a little uncertainty, I lie down beside him, my hands in my lap. The sheets are still warm. I would like to hug him, to kiss him, and fall asleep tucked up close to him, but I am not at all sure Thomas would want that. After all, now that I think about it, he didn’t even want me to snuggle up to him while we were watching television.
I roll away from him, somewhat reluctantly, but he wraps one arm around my waist and forces me to turn and look at him. My mouth is suddenly inches from his chest; his comforting scent invades my nose. He smells like tobacco and sex, the smell of our bodies joined together that still hovers in the room. He rests his chin on my head and hugs me.
“Did I hurt you?” he asks a few seconds later.
I frown and tilt my head back until I can lift my eyes to him. Although the darkness of the room prevents me from seeing him completely, I can feel his watchful gaze on me. I shake my head no.
“I was impulsive. I should have held back, at least for tonight.”
“I’m fine. It felt good. Everything felt kind of…amplified, but I’m okay.” And it’s the truth. A truth that surprises me, too, but… that’s how it is. I didn’t mind being possessed by Thomas in that way. I found it exciting, at times painful, yes, but tremendously pleasurable. My body trusts him. And that’s why I felt safe—because I was with him.
Sensing Thomas’s distress, I caress his tense, rough jawline to reassure him, before moving on to his soft lips. I retrace the same path over and over again until I feel his muscles loosen, allowing me to continue my ministrations.
“How’s your shoulder?”
“Better.” I smile at his odd way of showing concern for me. The tone of his voice is cold and detached, but the way he holds me to him reveals something else entirely.
“You’d tell me, wouldn’t you? If it weren’t?” He frowns. I nod, but part of me isn’t sure I’m telling him the truth. The fact is, he would probably beat himself up even more when there is nothing he can do to solve the problem. I think this is one of those cases where certain things are better kept to myself.
He squeezes me a little tighter while I move my fingers into his hair and begin to stroke it slowly. It’s not long before I hear his breathing get heavier, and I realize that he has fallen asleep.
I, however, have no peace. Hours go by. Hours in which I should have been sleeping, but all I did was think. Thomas sleeps beside me, his back to me. I find myself staring at the window across the room, where the first rays of light from the sunrise are filtering in. The things he made me feel tonight overwhelm me like a hurricane. I don’t regret it, but I can’t stop thinking about how this will be all I ever get from him if I accept his proposal. Great sex, but nothing more. No walking hand in hand. No cuddling on the couch in front of a movie. No going out to the movies. No dinners out or unexpected gifts. No introductions to friends or relatives. Nothing at all. Above all else, he will continue to keep me in the dark about his past.
I want Thomas more than anything in the world. But not enough to become another Shana, waiting around for something he will never be able to give me. I would only wind up heartbroken in the end.
I reach down to the floor and check the time on my phone. It’s six o’clock in the morning? Already? Dammit, I didn’t get a wink of sleep all night. Fortunately, I don’t have any classes today, and Thursday is my day off from the bar.
I slip out of bed and get dressed, careful not to wake Thomas. It’s not nice to sneak away without saying anything, but I suppose that’s also part of the “no strings attached” package. I’d rather leave of my own volition, saving him the inconvenience of trying to get rid of me without too much rigmarole.
I put on his sweatshirt, my skirt, and my shoes. I toss the bathing suit in my bag along with my sweater. Before leaving the room, I write a note and leave it on his bedside table, letting him know that I went back home. The first bus of the morning is due in exactly five minutes. If I hurry, I can still catch it.
When I arrive home, I see the Toyota parked in the driveway. I open the door cautiously, hoping not to find my mother awake, and the silence that blankets the house lets me know she’s still sleeping. I sigh in relief.
I climb the stairs with soft steps and take refuge in my room. I take off my clothes and bury my nose in Thomas’s sweatshirt to get a hint of that smell. Then I fold it carefully over my desk chair and put on my flannel pajamas. I close the curtains, silence my phone, and cover my eyes with my sleep mask before curling up under the covers, abandoning myself, finally, to a deep sleep.