10. Chapter Nine
Chapter Nine
Arnav
We devoured the cheesecake with cherries on top while standing in the kitchen. When I suggested another movie, Foster eagerly agreed. He never hid his enthusiasm. Which meant, to my understanding at least, that when he wasn’t happy, he would shut down. Give me neutral. Not be as happy.
So I needed to do everything in my power to make him happy.
Since he’d enjoyed Notting Hill and had enthused about Julia Roberts, I chose Pretty Woman, and we settled back onto the couch. This time, I ensured we were right next to each other. I even placed my hand on his thigh.
He settled with his arm next to mine.
I managed right up until the moment Julia Roberts got in the limo to head back home—alone.
Yep. Tears. I couldn’t help myself. Even though I knew for certain Richard Gere would be her knight in shining armor—sticking his head out of the sunroof of the limo—I still sniffed and eventually, cried.
Cathartic tears.
Foster wrapped his arm around me and pulled me against him.
I clung to his shirt and used it to wipe my tears. Fortunately, I didn’t usually have snot. Perhaps because, although I was moved, I didn’t despair. I’d only had those moments of true sobbing in my life a few times. In practice, though, I’d witnessed many tears from my sisters. Beena, in particular. With all her dramatics, she could turn on the waterworks. Not that I ever judged…because she’d sure as shit tease the hell out of me if she knew I cried over rom-coms.
The happy ending came, and then the credit rolled.
Foster angled himself back so he could see my face, and he wiped a stray tear. “This is adorable. I love that you’re so free with your emotions.”
So much said in so few words. He obviously didn’t feel he could be free with his. I doubted Julia Roberts comedy movies could bring him to tears, but how often did he feel the need to suppress his emotions? To be stoic? To hold things in?
I would work to change that if we began a relationship.
“I think I should be going.”
His face fell. No other word for it as his mouth drooped.
“It’s only nine-thirty. It’s Saturday night. Surely, we can do one more movie? I really enjoyed that one.”
I considered. “Sure. Do you have any idea which you’d like to watch?”
He bit his lower lip. “I don’t have any idea.”
“Well, Hugh Grant and Julianne Moore are in Nine Months . It’s cute.”
“That sounds great.” He disentangled from me and rose. “I need to go upstairs. Would you like something to drink? There’s more cola. I can make a coffee or a hot chocolate with my machine…” He wrinkled his nose. “But caffeine this late might not be good. I’ve got teas—”
“A glass of water will be perfect. Would you like me to grab you one?”
“Oh yes, thank you! I’ll be back.”
The enthusiasm with which he offered up his thank you struck me. Like he’d never been offered a simple courtesy before. At least not by someone who might be a potential partner.
I made my way to the kitchen. More and more, I felt we were falling into dating. Perhaps even falling into a relationship.
After locating two glasses, I checked the freezer for ice.
Score.
I debated whether to add them to Foster’s glass just as he appeared. “Oh, perfect timing.”
“Yes, to ice.” He grinned. “Good call.”
I put several ice cubes in each glass then added tap water. I presented Foster with his and we clinked glasses. “Okay, so we’re agreed on the movie. We’d better get to watching it right away since the snow’s supposed to intensify at midnight.”
“I’ll get you out of here before then, Cinderella.” He gave me a shy smile.
“You know, I always thought she should’ve stuck around. So what if her ballgown disappeared? So what if the glass slippers vanished? The prince could see her for who she really was. That was important, don’t you think?”
He tilted his head, clearly in contemplation. “Sure, but when he does meet her, and finds her in those circumstances, he accepts her readily.”
“Okay, but the Grimm version was, well, grim. Chopping feet and some shit.” I rummaged in the bag. “Oh, Drew Barrymore starred in Ever After. I love that movie.”
“Another nineties rom-com?”
“Well…sort of. Less comedy, but still really sweet. Another night.”
“You know, someday I want to see this clearly vast array of movies you’ve collected.”
Tires screeched in my head. “Uh, sure.” Like when I move out and get a place of my own… Here I was, trying to impress him, and I still lived in my parents’ basement. I might’ve been a lawyer, and properties might’ve been expensive, but it still didn’t sound all that impressive.
He considered me, staring openly.
“What?”
“You’re not…” He shook his head—as if shaking off the thought. “Movie.”
Since I didn’t feel like opening up about my living arrangements, I nodded and we headed into the living room. Again, we settled to watch the movie. This time, I snuggled against him right away. I preferred to be the Dominant in relationships, but I was super happy to yield the role of comforter while I watched my movies.
In the end, he might’ve sniffed once or twice as well. During that moment where it wasn’t clear whether Julianne might suffer a miscarriage. Then, of course, the Robin Williams antics. They made me sad because his comedic genius was no longer with us. Sure, people died. Some before their time should’ve run out.
Foster stretched as the credits rolled. “I enjoyed that one as well. You might’ve made a convert out of me.”
I pumped my fist in the air. “Yes, I knew it.”
He chuckled. “Okay, let’s get you into your coat and on your way. Would you like a slice of cheesecake to take home?”
I gazed at him. “Maybe we can share another night. Or afternoon, or—”
He grasped my cheeks and descended for a hard, fast kiss. I barely had time to register his rough lips before he pulled back. “Yes, Arnav. Yes, to all that.”
“Well, I’m grateful you’ve left me in no doubt.” I levered myself so I knelt beside him on the couch. Gently, I took his cheeks in my hands.
He melted into the touch.
I moved closer.
He did the same.
Our lips touched.
Unlike before, this was a gentle kiss. Just a momentary thing. As much as I wanted to deepen it, the time didn’t feel right. Tonight’s earlier kiss, although agreed to by him, had been what he perceived as an obligation. I needed to make clear to him that he never owed me anything. I was here of my own free will.
Hopefully he was as well.
The kiss ended and, regretfully, I rose off the couch. Surprisingly comfortable given its clear age.
I headed toward the front closet.
“What about your movies?” Foster trailed behind me.
“Well, I’m coming back tomorrow. Say, early afternoon? Why don’t I bring takeout? Do you have a preference?” I slid my feet into my shoes. “Or I can bring some Indian food. I can, uh, cook some up while I review some documents I have to submit to the court on Monday.” I sort of planned to raid Mama’s leftovers. Or ask Daddy to whip something up while I tried to learn.
“You can cook and do legal work at the same time?” He laughed. “I can barely make oatmeal without burning it.”
I had no doubt he was being facetious.
And I planned on raiding Papi’s brunch spread. He always made way too much. Even after I took my share, there’d be enough to feed Foster three times over. I always snuck extra down for snacks during the week, so no one would comment if I did that again. “I’ll figure something out. Say one o’clock?”
His eyes brightened. “Yeah, that would be nice.”
“And perhaps, over lunch, you can tell me a bit about what you do. You’ve been rather evasive.” I took my coat, which he’d retrieved from the closet. As I put it on, I winced inwardly at having chosen fashion over practicality. The thing wasn’t designed for snow. “One more kiss for the road?”
“Yeah.” He moved easily into my arms. Again, I didn’t get a sense of obligation—just of genuine warmth. How easy would it be to fall for this guy? We had all the time in the world, though. Unless he met someone else. Or unless he backed away. Both were always possible but, as our lips touched, neither felt probable.
After a chaste kiss that only had my dick stirring a little, I pulled back. “Tomorrow, we talk, okay?”
“And eat cheesecake.” He offered me a boyish grin that I found irresistible. His age wasn’t even a factor, as far as I was concerned. Except that it gave him more life experience than me—and I didn’t consider that a detraction. In fact, quite the opposite. I liked the idea he’d seen more and done more than me. We could teach each other.
He opened the door.
I went to step out. And came up short. “What the fuck?”
“Oh shit.” He eyed the two feet of snow that threatened to fall into the house.
I glanced out. The snow wasn’t that high, but the wind had picked up and pushed it against the door, which only had a small awning. I squinted and spotted the snow was almost up to my tires where the wind had blown it as well. The roads were completely covered with about a foot of the white stuff. Now, I was a good Canadian boy. I had some sand and a snow brush. I was also an optimistic Cedar Valley boy who didn’t carry a shovel because, like, we never got that much snow. My parents lived up the hill, though. One very steep hill.
Foster lived near the bottom of the valley.
So, as well as the issue of getting off his street, I had to contend with the uphill climb.
“You have snow tires, right?” Concern laced his voice.
“Yeah, put them on a couple of weeks ago. I drive all over Cedar Valley, and some of the mountains north of Mission City get snow early. We’d done well this year…or so I’d thought.”
Foster nudged the door closed. “Why don’t we see what the municipality is saying?” He grabbed his phone from the coffee table and scrolled. “Uh, although snow crews are out, the RCMP is asking everyone to stay off the roads unless it’s an emergency. Apparently more snow is on the way.” He glanced up to meet my gaze. “I don’t…I mean if you really want to go—”
“In that shit? Uh…no.” I scratched my cheek. “I can make it to the Grand Hotel. I think.”
“That’s going downhill.”
“Yeah.”
“According to the website, the hills are super slippery. Going either way would be dangerous. Where do you live?”
I waved northward, sort of making a gesture of upward as well.
Clearly, he understood. “Well, you’ll just have to stay here tonight. Do you…is there someone you need to tell?” He swallowed.
“Foster?”
“Yes.”
“I’m not in a relationship with anyone else. I don’t have a roommate either.” I should text Mama, but I can do that while you’re getting ready for bed. Nothing you need to know about.
“Okay.” Slowly he nodded. “This is kind of obvious, but I’m not either.”
“I appreciate your honesty.”
He considered in that way that connoted thought—with a furrow in his brow. “But I don’t understand why you’re not.” He rubbed his brow.
I toed off my shoes, then shucked out of my coat and handed it to him. “The reason I’m single is complicated.”
“Uh, okay. Why don’t you take off your coat, and I’ll hang it up. I have a spare pair of pajamas. They’ll be short and too wide, but I’m sure we can figure something out.”
“Thank you. And well, we’ve kind of got all night.” About our relationship statuses and anything else that might come up. “And tomorrow, if the roads aren’t cleared.”
“We can wash your clothes if we need to.” He held my gaze. “Stay as long as you need to, okay?”
“I can do that.”
He let out an exhalation.
I hadn’t realized he was holding his breath. Because he was worried about me? Because he was concerned I’d venture out into a near-blizzard? Or because he really wanted me to stay?
I didn’t have an answer for that.
Only time would tell.