Olivia (41 page)

He sits next to me and kisses my neck, but I shrug
away from him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“
Wasn’t this the point of coming up
here?”

“
We just had a huge fight in the
car, Jon. Was I supposed to flip the switch back to compliant
girlfriend? Because it’s not working right now.”

“
I just thought–”

“
What, that I’d just let it
go?!”

“
Well, you came into the hotel with
me. You’re here in the room. You didn’t ask to go home,
so–”

“
I don’t want to go home,” I
state.

“
Maybe you just want to get laid as
badly as I do,” he suggests. “Did we need to talk about things
first? Did you want an apology? Well, I’m sorry.”

I can feel my nostrils flaring as I try to breathe a
few calming breaths. My fingers start pulling the petals off of the
pretty flowers. I watch as each small petal lands gently on the
floor.

“
That is not why I’m here. You can
take me home, Jon.” I start to walk past him, but he stops me by
grabbing one of my wrists. His initial grip is tight, but he
loosens it immediately, aware of his strength.

“
Don’t, Livvy. Don’t do
this.”

I look up at him in disgust, plucking faster.
“You’re doing this,” I challenge him. He looks me in the eyes and
lets go of me. I move to sit on the edge of the bed again. I don’t
want to go home, even if our plans have changed; even if they’re
ruined. I don’t want to leave this conversation unfinished. I
continue destroying the flowers, one by one, as I wait for his next
move.

“
I love you,” he says, taking a few
steps toward me.

He loves me?
A few minutes
ago, he insinuated I’d changed, that I’d become someone different.
Maybe I misunderstood him. “Do you
know
me?”

“
Yes,” he says confidently, his
eyes burning into me intensely.

“
But I’ve changed. You said so in
the car. What did you mean by that?”

“
We’ve both changed.” He speaks
with little emotion. “I still love you.”

“
Fine, then,” I snap back at
him.

“
If you know that, then stop
picking those god damn petals off of the flowers!”

“
I can do what I want with them!” I
exclaim, standing up and pulling my arm back to throw the bouquet
at him. He comes to me quickly, now taking both of my wrists in his
hands.

“
Stop acting like a child,” he
says, his glare boring into mine. I feel my heart pounding angrily
in my chest. I’m not sure what changes in the next few seconds, but
suddenly my lips are hard and fast on his, and he’s kissing me back
just as desperately. His left hand slides up to my right one,
taking the flowers from me. I don’t know what he does with them, I
only know I’m not holding them anymore. I’m not sure of my
surroundings at all anymore. I’m only aware of him. Of me, and of
him.

The frantic embrace continues as Jon undresses me,
only parting once to pull my sweater over my head. It feels
rougher. He feels stronger than he used to.
Too
strong. I remember him hitting Abram, and the
vision startles me. I start to feel
very
weak and
very
exposed, suddenly
very
self-conscious, standing naked in
front of him while he’s fully dressed. I feel myself starting to
grow lightheaded, and I wonder if I’m hyperventilating. I realize
I’m scared. For the first time with Jon, I don’t feel safe. I feel
scared.

He starts to unfasten the buttons on his shirt, but
I stop him by putting my hand over his firmly. He pulls away and
looks first in my eyes, then down the length of my body, frozen in
front of him. I still can’t find my breath as his hands explore the
contours.

“
Don’t hurt me,” I plead to him
with what little air I have. His hands stop on my hips as he looks
back into my eyes abruptly.

“
What?”

“
Please don’t hurt me,” I repeat,
finally managing to take one deep breath. He looks confused,
shaking his head.

“
No, Livvy,” he says, obviously
straining to breathe, too. “Oh, god, no,” he repeats, putting his
arms around me gently and holding me next to him. His hands move up
and down my back reassuringly. “God, no, Livvy, I would never,” he
says, and I hear genuine remorse in his voice. He kisses my temple,
holding his lips there for a few seconds as I note the shaky intake
of air. “I would never.”

He puts his hands on my upper arms and pulls back, a
worried expression on his face. “You know that, right? I could
never hurt you, baby.”

With the return of his tender gaze, my muscles relax
fully. I slip away from him, sitting down on the bed. He kneels in
front of me with his hands on my waist, steadying me. “Please tell
me you know that.”

I nod at him and try to smile. It’s not enough of an
assurance for him, and he dips his head to the floor, leaning his
forehead on my bare knees. He slides his hands down and caresses my
calf muscles with barely any pressure.

He curses under his breath, not once, but twice,
verbally berating himself and his behavior. I think back to how it
all began, and realize I may have initiated the whole thing.

“
I’m sorry, Livvy,” he says, his
head still looking away from me. “I’m sorry for fighting with you.
I mean it.”

I put my hands in his hair, massaging his scalp. “I
am, too,” I tell him.

He looks back up at me, careful to keep his eyes on
my face when they are undoubtedly tempted to be
anywhere–
everywhere
–else. “I scared you,
didn’t I?”

“
A little,” I whisper, glancing
away quickly, his expression still too intense for me to look at
for too long. I see the flowers, crushed on the floor next to the
bed, the pigment of the petals staining the tan-colored carpet. Jon
looks next to him to see what has my attention. I cross my arms
over my chest as he picks up the demolished bouquet and holds it
between us. We both study the damage that’s been done.

“
What do you want, Livvy?” He looks
up at me through his lashes, his mood completely
changed.

“
Your shirt,” I tell him. He laughs
lightly.

“
Would you like your
sweater?”

“
No. Your shirt will do fine,” I
tell him, clueing him in to the fact that I’m not ready to go home
yet. He sets the flowers down on the bed beside me.

“
Of course,” he says quickly,
unbuttoning the last few buttons and holding it over my shoulders
while I slip my arms through the holes. He buttons the two buttons
between my breasts, then focuses his attention on the cuffs that
are hanging over my hands. He folds each of them back meticulously
until my fingers are exposed. “Better?”

“
Yeah.”

“
What else do you want?”

“
I want you to take back what you
said about ‘getting laid.’” He sighs, immediately knowing that
those words should never come out of his mouth.

“
I’m sorry,” he says.

“
This is too new and too infrequent
for you to be crass about it.”

“
I didn’t mean it. I was just mad.
And very frustrated, Liv. Like, sexually,” he says softly, as if
he’s embarrassed. “This is all I’ve been thinking about. It’s
consuming me.”

“
We’re about more than
this–”

“
I know that. You
know
I know that, baby. And I don’t want to sound like
that guy, but damn it. I want you. I want to sleep with you. It’s
getting to the point that I want to say I need it. But I’m afraid
to say that to you.”

“
Why?”

“
I don’t want to pressure
you.”

“
You’re not.” I put my hands
beneath his chin and tilt his head a little, kissing the corner of
his lips. I can feel his smile form next to mine. “I want to be
close to you. I feel that need, too. For me, it’s the intimacy.
It’s the security.”

“
I like those, too, but I need the
release,” he says honestly. His cheeks blush pink. “Nothing
compares to actually being with you. Nothing.”

Now I feel my own face flush, and I look away,
deflecting his compliment. I pick up the bouquet once more and
search for any flowers that were spared from my plucking and Jon’s
shoes. Two camellias still stand perfectly erect, unblemished and
whole. I loosen the ribbon and remove them from the rest as Jon
watches me. He smiles, first putting his hand around mine and
holding the flowers with me, then taking them from me and setting
them carefully on the nightstand.

I scoot back on the bed, lying down against the
pillows in the middle. Jon stands to his feet, but doesn’t make a
move toward me. “Come,” I encourage him. “Come be with me.”

“
I would love to,” he answers,
kicking off his shoes and lying down next to me. We both lean into
each other, resting on our sides, kissing slowly and
gently.

“
Jon?” I interrupt abruptly. He
pulls away immediately. “Have I changed so much that you don’t want
me to go to college with you?”

“
No, baby,” he breathes. “I want
you to do what makes you happy. Deep down, if that makes you happy,
then come to Columbia.”

“
Do you mean it?”

“
Of course I mean it. I just don’t
want you to regret it later, that’s all.” I touch his face softly,
looking into his eyes and gauging his sincerity.

“
I don’t think I will regret it.
You know I don’t regret anything with you–” He kisses me
mid-sentence. I push him back playfully to continue. “I love
you–”

“
I love you, too,” he says with his
lips on mine again.

“
Wait!” I laugh. He rests his head
on the pillow and smoothes my hair back, looking at me sweetly. “I
love you, and that’s all I can give you right now. And I just hope
that’s enough.” I feel an unwelcome lump in my throat, suddenly
fearing it may not be enough.

“
Hey,” he whispers, sensing the
worry and propping himself up on his elbows. “It’s more than enough
for me,” he assures me. “The last thing I want to do is mess up
what we have. Ever.” He touches his lips to my forehead lightly.
“Whatever we have to do to maintain this, let’s do it. Maybe with a
little more sex, though,” he adds with a deadpan expression. His
fingers pinch my side where I’m ticklish, and I burst into
laughter. I push him away and he stops, his loving gaze
returning.

“
Whatever we have to do,” I vow,
“to keep it like this, I will do. And soon we’ll have more time
alone, Jon. Just promise me you won’t go elsewhere when you
need
it. Just tell me. We’ll find a
way.”

“
I know.”

“
I want to fulfill those needs for
you.” I’m not sure I said the words loud enough for him to hear,
the declaration new, and adult, and a little scary to verbalize.
But I
do
. His eyes search mine, though,
and I know he heard. His fingers drag down the front of my thigh
slowly before trailing to the back of my leg. With his palm flat
against my skin, his hand glides up my leg and underneath his
shirt, continuing until it rests in the middle of my back. I put my
arm around him, and we pull each other closer, simply enjoying a
very long, very slow, very full and incredibly sensuous
kiss.

“
What do you want?” The sound is
loud in my right ear as my head rests on his smooth chest, but the
inquiry is familiar and expected. He’d posed the question many
times tonight, doing everything he could to satisfy me.

My fingers press against his stomach muscles as he
flexes and releases them, showing off his newly-sculpted body. I
truly am impressed, and I told him so many times over the past
hour. He seemed more confident and in control, able to hold me
tighter, to love me longer, to please me better–and more than
once.

It ended up being a
very
good night.

“
I want pancakes,” I tell him. He
shifts suddenly, pushing my back onto the bed and leaning over
me.

“
Pancakes?” he asks as if he
couldn’t understand me the first time.

“
Yes. Pancakes. From the cafe on
83rd.”

“
Maybe tomorrow?”

I shake my head and lean up to look at the alarm
clock. “They close at midnight. We can make it with time to
spare.”

He laughs in disbelief. “I guess we didn’t have
dinner,” he realizes, holding his hand over his stomach. “I’m a
little hungry.”

“
What do you want?” I ask him. He
gives me a sideways glance and a grin, and I realize I’ve asked the
wrong question. “What do you
need
?” I
correct myself. We’d traded off all night. He’d give me what I
wanted, I’d give him what he needed.

“
A shower,” he says. “Sleep,” he
adds.

“
Go take a shower,” I encourage
him, wishing I could, too. My aunt would definitely ask me why my
hair wasn’t curled anymore if I did, though. It’s messy enough as
it is. “And I can drive back.”

“
A shower will wake me up.” He
leans down and kisses me slowly. “And if not, then you can distract
me by kissing me behind my ear like you were awhile ago. That was
so sexy.”

“
You just tell me what you need,” I
tell him. “I’ll do it.”