Authors: Connie Falconeri
Maddie collected her novel from the living room. “’Night, Janet. I’m wiped from work
this week. I think I’ll turn in.”
“I understand, honey. I’m just going to watch a show on the TV down here until I settle.
You have a good sleep and enjoy your first day off tomorrow with a good lie-in, eh?”
“Will do,” Maddie said. That was probably the biggest lie of all the white lies she’d
told this week. The chances of Maddie sleeping a wink when the hottest, sexiest man
she’d ever (briefly) had her hands on was about fourteen feet away as the crow flies.
She chuckled to herself, picturing the two of them with a pair of soup cans and a
string so they could talk to each other across the driveway.
After brushing her teeth and washing her face, Maddie went back into her bedroom and
gave the soup can idea a new think. She’d always been a blackout shade kind of sleeper
and had kept the curtains and the horizontal blinds totally closed this entire week.
The longest day of the year was in a few days, and even the middle of the night only
felt like dusk.
She pulled back the heavy fabric curtains. They looked like they’d been hand-sewn
many years ago, weighted down with a thick liner to keep out the cold in winter and
the heat in summer. Like so much in Janet’s house, it reminded Maddie of the lyric
from that Neil Young song. Old but good.
She lifted up the horizontal metal blinds as quietly as she could, and voilá . . .
there was a dark window into Henry’s apartment, about fifteen feet away, across the
air above the driveway. For all she knew, it was only the stairwell or a closet window.
She kept staring at it, hoping it was his bedroom.
Ping.
The light flicked on and Henry walked into his bedroom. How had Maddie gone a whole
week without looking into this guy’s apartment? The light in her room was off, but
he must know she was there. Or maybe not. She saw him look out his window toward the
first floor of his mother’s house, probably seeing the telltale flicker of the television
and assuming Maddie was down there with Janet. Maddie watched as he paced back and
forth at the end of his bed a couple of times, then raked his fingernails through
his buzz cut. Maddie felt it deep in her core. She had touched that hair, and the
muscles beneath it, a few hours ago. She wanted those hands on her again.
Was she really going to sit in a dark room and watch a grown man get undressed? Was
it really wrong? Or just pervy?
She sat down slowly on the end of her bed, which happened to be conveniently located
by the pervy window. Maddie slipped off her sneakers quietly and then reached under
her shirt and unhooked her bra. She was just getting ready for bed.
She slipped the straps down off her shoulders, then pulled the whole bra off without
removing her shirt. She wasn’t going to get naked and roll around alone while she
watched Hank get undressed. That would have been so porny. She was going to leave
her clothes on.
Henry looked across at his childhood bedroom. He thought he’d seen some movement in
there, but the light was out and it looked like Maddie and his mom were downstairs
watching television. He stood at the window for a while, trying to perceive the imperceptible
in the yawning darkness behind the open window of Maddie’s room. He pulled his T-shirt
off, crossing his hands in front of his chest and peeling it over his head. He stood
there by the window, holding the shirt in his hand for a few seconds, staring into
the darkness. He shook his head at his own idiocy and turned to put his clothes into
the laundry basket. He left the bedroom to wash his face and brush his teeth, then
came back after double-checking the lock on his front door and turning out the lights
in the living room and kitchen.
He turned on the bedside lamp, then went back to the switch by the bedroom door and
turned off the ceiling light. The evening air was cool and he wanted to feel closer
to Maddie somehow, if he was being honest. He went back to the window. He stood there
in his boxers, listening to the fleeting night sounds of Maine that had always soothed
him.
Henry touched the dog tags that still hung around his neck. He didn’t feel like they
were representative of any great experience he’d had in the Army, but after ten years
it just felt weird when he didn’t have them on. Like he’d forgotten to brush his teeth
or something. The light from the television disappeared from the downstairs window,
and Henry waited for the back porch light to turn off a few minutes later. Which it
did.
Despite complaining about his mother’s crazy idea to take on a boarder, Henry knew
Janet could take care of herself. He wasn’t going to be some weird serial killer who
lived in his mother’s basement—or garage, for that matter—well into his forties, but
it worked out for both of them to have him here for these few months after he returned
from active duty.
He waited a few more minutes, hoping that Maddie’s light would turn on. He could hear
the final sounds of his mother getting ready for bed, then both houses settled into
total silence. Yet he kept standing there.
Maddie must have been in her room that whole time, watching him get undressed before,
he thought. He smiled and took off his boxers. He heard the tiny gasp across the small
distance that separated them.
“Sleep well, Maddie,” he called quietly out the window.
He heard her giggle, and it was a great way to end the day. He crawled into bed, enjoying
the feel of the sheets against his naked body. He turned off the bedside lamp and
turned into his pillow. Life wasn’t all that bad.
Janet left for her job at the library at eight o’clock Saturday morning. Henry was
surprised that he’d slept so late, when the sound of her car’s engine startled him
awake. The type of work he did meant that he worked five days on and five days off.
He’d been thinking he might head up to Millinockett to do some backcountry canoeing.
But—
The light knock on his door interrupted his thought. He pulled on a pair of loose
shorts and walked through his apartment to answer it. Maddie was standing at the top
of the wooden stairs, holding two cups of steaming coffee.
“Hey . . .” She didn’t look like she’d gotten much sleep. Good, thought Henry, served
her right.
“Hey,” he answered, without moving aside to let her pass.
She extended her arm, offering him one of the mugs. “Coffee?”
“Sure.” He took the mug from her and stood his ground. She was beginning to get distracted
by his bare chest. He watched as she took a sip of her coffee and kept her eyes peering
over the rim without meeting his eyes.
He took a sip of his coffee. The hot comfort of that first contact made him close
his eyes for a second. “Good coffee,” he said slowly after he opened his eyes and
saw that Maddie was mesmerized, staring—gawking really—at his lips.
“Are you going to invite me in?” Maddie asked, without looking at his eyes.
“Why? You can stare at me just fine here.”
She smiled and looked him right in the eye that time, then reached out her slim fingers
and touched his chest. “But I don’t want to look,” she said. “I want to touch.”
“Jesus, Maddie.” He pulled her into his apartment, doing a quick double take out the
front door to see if any nosy neighbors were watching.
She put her mug down on the kitchen counter. It was a marine wood, maybe teak or mahogany,
that had been shellacked to a high sheen. “Wow, nice kitchen.”
“Did you think I lived in a shed?”
She turned slowly to face him. “Don’t be churlish. I came all the way over here, all
forward and timid—”
He barked a laugh. “Timid my a—”
She smiled, then punched him lightly on the arm to stop him from finishing the sentence.
“I might look all confident and fabulous, but it still takes a little gumption to
walk up those steps and knock on that door. Admit it.”
He set down his coffee cup. “Maybe I need more convincing . . . about how shy you
are . . . Like would you let me do something like this?” He reached around her waist
and pulled her flush up against him. She gasped at the loss of air, and from the feeling
of being so close to him. She inhaled him.
“I just about died in that movie theater last night,” she whispered into his bare
chest. She kissed the muscled skin across his pecs. “You smelled so good. I kept trying
to take little hits of you. It was awful.” She breathed deep again, her nose against
his neck. “You are amazing.”
He reached his hand into her pajama bottoms and pulled it quickly out when he felt
her bare skin. “God, Maddie, are you naked?”
She smiled up at him after kissing his clavicle. “Aren’t we all? Under our clothes,
I mean.”
He pushed her back toward the countertop, putting his palms on the wood behind her
and creating an inescapable perimeter around her. She was wriggling in the confined
space, kissing him and trailing her light touch all along his ribs and his back.
“How about a few ground rules?” he asked.
Maddie’s hands slowed. “I should have figured you’d be a rules guy.”
He smiled and kissed her neck, then pulled away. “Rules are good.”
“Debatable,” she said, standing on her tiptoes to trail her tongue around the edge
of his ear.
“Maddie!” he groaned, then grabbed her long hair into a tight knot in his fist and
swept his mouth over hers. He could feel the tips of her fingers trembling against
his back and pushed the kiss deeper than he should have. She made him crazy, with
that combination of bravado and tenderness.
He stepped away from her after a few minutes or hours, he had no idea. “Hot damn,
Madison Post.”
She smiled at him, all moist and open like she’d been the afternoon before, when his
mom had nearly walked in on them kissing by the refrigerator.
“You were saying something about rules.” She reached for the hard plane of his stomach.
He swatted her away and stepped another few feet out of her reach.
“Yeah.” He stretched his neck right and left, then put his hands on his hips. She
pictured him doing that in his Army uniform, with dust and sun and slow-motion chaos
all around him. Then she looked into his eyes and they were stormy in a way that almost
frightened her.
Almost.
“What is it?” Maddie asked, standing up straighter.
“I don’t want to sleep with you—”
Maddie stiffened. “Oh, well, okay—”
“Jeez, Maddie. I meant I don’t want to sleep with you right away. Let’s just hang
out and get to know each other better for a little while, okay?”
Her face cleared. “Yeah. Okay. I just thought, you know, that you didn’t want to sleep
with me . . . ever.”
“You’re like every man’s friggin’ dream come true, why would you think that?” He had
pulled her into a tight (damnably platonic) hug, so she couldn’t see his eyes when
he said that part about being his dream come true . . . or every man’s, or whatever.
She hugged him back.
“No reason,” she said into his chest, and started hugging him tighter and moving her
hips in a little inviting—
Henry laughed and set her away from him again. “I was thinking of going canoeing this
weekend. Want to go?”
“Canoeing?” Maddie asked.
“Yeah. Canoeing. You know. A boat. With a couple of paddles. Maybe a few beers and
sandwiches and a tent and—”
“Ooh. I like the tent part.”
“Get your mind out of the gutter, Post. I am trying to be a good guy, here. Doesn’t
every woman want a man who wants to get to know her before he slams her into bed?”
“Slams?” Maddie whispered with wide-eyed hope.
“You are impossible. Do you want to go camping this weekend or not?” He’d reached
for his coffee cup and was waiting for her answer while he took a sip. “Or would you
rather get a mani-pedi or something on your days off? Chick stuff. Maybe the paddling
will be too hard-core for you.”
He smiled as he sipped his coffee and watched her face go from dreamy seduction to
competitive ferocity. “Too hard-core? Do you know who you’re talking to?”
He shook his head no. “But I’m sure I’m about to find out.”
She pointed at her chest. “I am one of the top five rowers in the NCAA Division One
rankings.”
“Is that where you all pull at the same time and someone calls out from the front
of the boat? Sounds like synchronized swimming compared to crossing the English Channel.”
He shrugged his shoulders. She was so easy. He watched her violet eyes darken and
the pupils tighten.
“Synchronized swimming? I bet I could kick your ass—”
He looked down at his muscled torso then across at her lithe, sinewy abdomen.
“Not in a fistfight, you jerk!” she exclaimed. “Endurance. Something that would really
compare apples to apples.”
He stared at her breasts through the thin, ribbed tank top she was wearing. Her naked
breasts. Naked under her clothes, he amended.
“Look at me,” she demanded.
“I am looking at you.” His eyes slid slowly up from her breasts to meet her tempestuous
eyes. “Right. At. You.”
“Ugh! Men are impossible. All right. Fine. I’ll go on your manly canoeing expedition.
And I’ll kick your ass. Down in front in twenty, soldier.” She pivoted to grab her
coffee cup and stormed out of his apartment.
Twenty minutes later, she came out of his mom’s house in another pair of those too-short
khaki shorts and a clean black T-shirt.
“How many of those black T-shirts you got, Post?”
“None of your business. I’m at a bit of a disadvantage since I only have my duffle
bag. Would it be cheating if I asked to borrow a backpack so I don’t have to hike
into the backwoods of Maine with a useless piece of luggage over one shoulder?”
“Sure. And it’s not a competition, you know? We’re just going camping.”
“Yeah, whatever, Henry.”
He laughed as he went up the stairs to get a backpack. He was back in a few minutes
and tossed Maddie the old blue one he’d used as a book bag in high school. She held
it up. “Is this from this century?”