In an instant, he flips me on my back and brushes my hair off my face.
“Beautiful Cate. I could make love to you for days.” He rolls to his side and puts his hand on my hip after he pulls my leg over his. “Are you good? Still not too sore?
“I’m great.”
He smiles. “You are indeed.”
“Drew, I, uh, I’m not on birth control. Remember?”
“I do. Are you worried about the condom?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m still hard so it’s still on.”
I feel my cheeks heat. “Okay.”
He’s still moving in me as he watches me closely. “I’ll stop if you want.”
“I want you to go on forever,” I confess. “I just don’t want a baby.”
He laughs as he pulls out. “No baby.” Then his face gets serious. “I’m going to marry you some day, Catelyn Forbes. And then we’ll have babies.”
When I open my mouth to speak, he says, “No, wait. I know this is entirely too soon to talk about this kind of stuff. You don’t really know me, much less love me, nor do I you. But I have this weird feeling about us. And it’s strong. And when I say marry you some day, I’m not talking about tomorrow. But mark my words.”
I’m speechless. There isn’t a thing I can say to that. The truth is I have a strong and weird feeling about him, too. And I haven’t been able to put my finger on it. Maybe he just did for me.
“Have I weirded you out?” he asks.
I smile and shake my head. “Not really.”
Lying next to each other as we are, it would be hard to lie. “I believe you.” His mouth catches mine and he sears me with another kiss.
It isn’t until the following afternoon I have the will to force myself to leave. Papers and exams call me back to school but Drew is tempting.
“Go. You have two degrees to obtain.”
“I do. You already have yours and I’m still working on mine,” I say.
“Don’t worry. You’ll have it before you know it.” He blankets me in his warmth and his lips find mine one last time. “This is going to have to hold me until next weekend.”
“We’ll figure it out,” I tell him.
“Of course we will. Be safe driving and call me when you get in.”
The week is like double over-time. Since I didn’t get much done at Drew’s, I have my work cut out for me. Drew calls on Tuesday and wants to know if he can drive down to spend Wednesday night.
“I want to say yes, like more than you know, but right now I’m underwater. I have three papers due and an exam on Thursday. If you come, I won’t get my work done.” I hate telling him no. There have been few times in my life I’ve hated missing out on things because of studying, but this ranks as number one.
“No worries. I understand. Cate, I was there once. Don’t ever feel bad about telling me this.”
“Okay,” I say with some relief, but admit, “You sure make it tempting though.”
“So, Friday or Saturday then?” he asks.
“Friday night. Your place. Do you have a hockey match?”
“I do. Saturday again. But at night,” he says.
“Cool.”
“Hey, I gotta run. I’m at work and I just got a text.”
“Okay. Call me later.”
At least I have an awesome weekend to look forward to.
RIDING THE SUBWAY MONDAY morning is a mistake. I’m used to walking the few blocks to work, which is how I decided on the location of my apartment. The work site I’m headed to is about ten blocks away. And even though I can walk it, I don’t want to arrive in the form of an icicle. I can cab it, but I thought I’d be adventurous and try something new and out of the elements.
The morning rush is unforgiving. The push and pull of people careens me forward and eventually catapults me up to the sidewalk, where I’m spit out like a wad of tobacco. I’m not familiar with DC yet, so I spend a few moments trying to orient myself. When I find my bearings, I make my way into the steel and gray building.
After a tango with security and a salsa while trying not to get mushed into the elevator, I make my way to the reception desk on the floor I’m directed to.
“Mrs. McKnight?” The woman asks brusquely. The severe bun at the nape of her neck seems to be the cause of her forced smile. It makes me wonder if she suffers from frequent headaches wearing her hair like that. TooTightABunitis.
“It’s Ms. McKnight, actually.”
She frowns and I wonder if it was a good idea to correct her and earn a place on her bad side. She glances away from me, not rolling her eyes, though I can tell it’s a struggle for her not to. She presses a button on the phone.
“Miss McKnight is here.” She clicks a button with a perfectly painted nail and focuses on me. “You can have a seat. Someone will be with you.”
I acknowledge her stern tone wordlessly and take the seat she indicates. A short time later, a tall, slender man with black-rimmed glasses, and reading papers smashed to his face, blindly comes toward the reception area as a brunette follows closely on his heels.
“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine. Just go with it,” he says animatedly to the brunette.