Chapter 14 #2
I felt faint sometimes from the things he said to me. In my past relationships, most of the feedback I got was that I needed to tone it down. I was too salty, too intense…too much. With Tom, being me was not only okay, it was like he couldn’t get enough of it.
“Stop, you already got in my pants once today. Let’s eat already.”
Those grins of his were addictive.
We tore pieces of injera at the same time and started digging into the food.
It was delicious and I was hungry, so we ate in silence for a bit.
Bumping hands and smiling every once in a while as we both reached for the same things.
After a few moments, we slowed down and Tom took a sip from his beer.
I noticed the hand he was holding the bottle with was pristine, while both of mine were a mess.
“How come you can do this with one hand?”
He laughed as I sat there baffled.
“Practice,” he said waving said clean hand around. “Henock taught me how to eat like a proper Ethiopian.” He smiled and put down his beer. “Here, I’ll show you something.”
He tore off some injera and picked up some bits of meat and greens from the platter, then extended his hand, offering it to me. I reached for it and he pulled it back, a very predatory smile on his lips.
“You have to eat it from my hand.”
The way he looked at me made the whole thing feel incredibly intimate. I opened my mouth and took the bite of food from him and chewed slowly as he watched me eat.
His voice was low when he spoke. “That’s a gursha,” he explained, while I chewed.
“In Ethiopia, when you’re eating a meal with friends or family, it’s customary for people around the table to offer each other bites of food, as a sign of love or friendship.
” He cleared his throat then, looking a little self-conscious.
“That’s lovely. Thank you.”
He nodded again. “It is.”
“I like hearing you talk about your friends. It makes me think of mine. I—”
I shut my mouth then because I was about to go overboard. Feeling self-conscious, I went back to eating.
Tom put his hand under my chin.
“What were you going to say?” I shook my head trying to avoid the subject, but I looked up at him and his eyes were so focused on me, I just said it.
“I was going to say, I can’t wait for you to meet my friends.
But then thought better of it, because we’ve been on like a quarter of an actual date, so it seemed just a tad desperate —” I held up my hand, the tips of my index finger and thumb pressed together.
“—to talk about meeting each other’s people. ”
He smiled in that way that made me feel like there were a million butterflies fluttering inside me, and shook his head leaning in.
“If you only knew how ready I am to take this—” he waved the hand holding the beer between us “—a lot further than just a casual thing.” I looked down, not knowing what to say, but he kept going.
“I’m ready to meet your friends and have you meet mine, Camilo.
I’m ready for whatever you’re ready for.
” Then he took my hand and kissed my palm, because my life was a Jane Austen novel now.
“Okay then. Duly noted,” I said with a sharp nod.
We ate the rest of the meal in silence, although we touched constantly. Our feet under the table, a brush of fingers. It was very hard to keep my cool around this man.
After we were done, he helped me clean up.
Once we finished in the kitchen, I turned off the lights and pulled him into the bed with me.
I helped him out of his jeans and we got under the covers.
We fit together in my queen-size bed, but just barely.
It all felt so normal though, like we’d done this a million times before.
It was tempting to just go with the feeling and avoid discussing the reason why we were in my apartment instead of his house.
But I needed to know about the situation with his daughter and his ex before I agreed to take things any further.
This whole thing with Tom was already a big fucking risk to take, and I needed to know just how badly I could get burned.
“So this is amazing, and I basically want to order a body pillow shaped exactly like you because you feel incredible,” I said, resting my head on his chest to take the edge off the conversation a bit. “But we need to talk about your daughter and your ex. I need information, Tom.”
He sighed and held me tighter before answering, “Well there’s not too much to tell.
I was with Maxwell for about five years.
We got married right as things with my company were getting really hot, so I worked all the time.
Like all the time.” He bit his lips then, in a way that I’d noticed happened when he was talking about something sad or upsetting.
“Maxwell got lonely and I wanted a baby, so we started the surrogacy process right after we got married.” He pulled me tighter to him as he talked, like he wanted to make sure I was still with him.
“I would have preferred an adoption, but Maxwell really wanted a biological child. His cousin offered to be our egg donor, so we decided to do it. It took so long to get everything in order that by the time the surrogate was pregnant, our marriage was completely in shambles. I take a lot of blame for it, because I didn’t pay attention. ”
I had to bite my tongue then, the impulse to take his side, to tell him I couldn’t imagine him ever letting anyone down had me practically vibrating.
In the short time I’d known Tom, I already saw how much he took on, how driven he was to fix things.
I ran my hand over his chest and waited for him to keep talking, because no matter how much I wanted to soothe, I needed to know more.
“I have Libe most of the time and Maxwell gets her on Wednesday nights and every other weekend.”
“Ah.” So it really was his night off.
He exhaled and shook his head. “We split holidays, too; we switch between Thanksgiving and Christmas. The arrangement mostly works for us. Since I sold Nuntius, I’ve been on a semi-hiatus from work. I wanted to be home more, at least until Libe was a bit older. I didn’t want to fail her.”