I set a tray of chocolate chip pumpkin spice cookies on a rack in the kitchen to cool. Outside, the melted snow had caked dead leaves to the yard and sidewalk. The surrounding houses showed no trace of the season, overstuffed black trash bags stacked high along the roadside, each yard an immaculate carbon copy of the last.
Charles and I had been dating for over three months now, and while I wasn’t seeking a commitment—not now, anyway—I wanted to know if a future between us was even possible. Now I knew it was, but that was entirely up to him.
I headed down the hall to his room and pushed open his bedroom door. His blue plaid comforter covered him from head to ankles, only his feet peeking out to hang over the edge of the bed.
I sat beside him and pulled the comforter away from his face. “Charles!”
He jolted upright. “Huh? What?” His gaze darted around until his attention settled on me. Confusion slipped from his features and a crooked grin worked into place. He pulled me onto the bed and propped himself on one elbow.
I giggled and poked his chest. “You overslept. I ate breakfast without you.”
“Oops,” he said, walking his fingers up my belly, between my breasts. “I was out late. Hunting.”
“You at least have to get up to open your gift.”
Charles shoved his blanket away and tossed his legs over the side of the bed. His feet thudded against the hardwood as he stood. My gaze drifted downward, his flannel pajama pants slipping lower on his hips to reveal the upper crest of his butt. I bit back a smile.
He glanced over his shoulder, tugging up his pants, and kissed my cheek before stepping into the master bathroom—another one of his renovations.
I flopped back against his pillow. It still smelled like him—like vanilla and sandalwood and musk. I couldn’t deny my attraction to him, which seemed to be taking over more with each passing day, but we’d never made it beyond what Lauren called the ‘heavy petting’ stage.
Truth was, that was already a lot further than I’d gone with any man before. But so what if I was a late bloomer? Not everyone started dating in high school. At least that was what I’d always told myself.
Besides, I wasn’t sure it was right to be intimate with Charles when I couldn’t be completely honest with him. Would he still want to be with me if I did tell him everything? Ever since I’d told Ivory, she rarely answered my calls, and we’d been friends for years.
Maybe first, before worrying about sharing my secrets, it would be best to find out if a future between us was even possible, though he wouldn’t like what needed to be done to make that happen.
Charles emerged shirtless from the bathroom, the muscles in his stomach stacked down to where his jeans rested at his hips. My heart thumped against my lungs, and I hopped to my feet. I wanted to run my hands over the muscles of his shoulders and press my cheek against his bare chest, but I remained firmly planted where I stood.
He smirked as he pulled a black and grey striped sweater over his head, and I sighed as all that beauty was hidden from view.
“Just going to run a comb through my hair,” he said.
“To sit in the living room?” I grabbed his hand and tugged him closer, snaking my arms around his waist. “You look good with bed-head. Reminds me of the night we met.”
He planted a gentle kiss on my lips, then grabbed my hand and led me out to the living room. We sat on the floor beside our potted pine tree decorated with candy canes and pinecones and a popcorn garland. I insisted he open his gift first. He peeked into the silver gift bag, removed the pocket watch, and smiled at the inscription.
“‘It’s not what you look at that matters, it’s what you see’,” he read.
“Henry David Thoreau.”
“This is perfect, Sophia.” He smiled, then reached behind him and handed me a box wrapped in recycled paper. “Now your turn.”
I ripped a small area of the wrapping, and a gold foil box peaked out. “What is it?” I asked.
“Open it.”
I tore the rest of the paper away and lifted the lid to the box. Cushioned inside was a spiral bracelet, threaded with iridescent glass balls of gold and garnet and plum, accented with tiny pearls and crystals.
The air rushed from my lungs in a sigh. “Oh. Charles, it’s…amazing.”
I was relieved to find the bracelet fit perfectly. Only Grandfather Dunne had ever known to buy me bracelets small enough not to slip off.
I lied back and stared up at pinecones in our tree. Charles was perfect for me in every way but one: he was immortal. I would age, and he would not. How weird would that eventually become?
How could I make sense of all this—of my feelings for him and the reality that a future together was unreasonable?
Charles propped himself on his elbow beside me. “Something’s wrong.”
I rolled to my side, resting my head in the palm of my hand. My legs stretched out, though my feet didn’t reach far past his knees. I was looking at our feet only because I feared what I might find if I looked in his eyes—not just in his expression, but in my heart as well.