He wrapped his arms around me in a hug, and I let him. After a moment he pulled back, eyes flickering to silver. “You ready?”
I looked at him—and then shook my head. “I know that helps. But it feels wrong. It feels like I’m cheating, somehow. Even though it sucks, I feel like I need to be able to feel.” I looked up at him, hoping I hadn’t hurt his feelings. He was frowning, but he didn’t seem angry.
“I understand,” he said, after a long moment. “I actually do understand. No more Jedi mind stuff.”
He smiled and I smiled, and it was awkward again. I patted the bed and he crawled in next to me, stretching his arm out underneath the pillow. I guess he was going to be the big spoon tonight. I didn’t argue, just fit myself along the contour of his body and pulled the blankets over us. He rested his arm on my waist, and in a mirror of the night before, I wound my fingers through his. His breath was soft and warm on my neck and I heard him murmur, “Good night, Caitlin.”
I smiled, glad he couldn’t see me.
“Good night, Adrian.”
*
Adrian came over every night, sometimes crawling in beside me while I was still asleep, so that the moment I woke up, he was there. I’d grab his hand and squeeze it for as long as it took for the dregs of the dream to slip away. Sometimes he got there early enough that I didn’t have a nightmare at all. Usually we didn’t say much. Most of the time I woke up in the morning and he was gone. Occasionally, though, we were so entangled that he had to physically move me to get out of bed. I’d murmur something incomprehensible, he’d laugh (very quietly), and bundle the blankets back around me so I didn’t get cold. And it really only took a few nights before it wasn’t awkward at all anymore. It felt sort of … right, actually, to be sleeping next to him. And for that to be all we were doing. It was peaceful.
And before I knew it, it was Christmas Eve.
The insistent buzz of my annoying comes-with-the-phone ringtone startled me awake. I groped for it blindly on my nightstand and brought it to my ear, answering with a grunt instead of actual words.
“You’re always so eloquent in the morning.”
“Nmphmm.”
“When can you be ready by?” Adrian asked. It was funny talking to him on the phone knowing that he’d been lying next to me only a few hours before.
I searched my brain groggily. “A few years? I don’t know. For what?”
“It’s Christmas Eve. We’re supposed to go to my place?”
“Oh, yeah.”
Thank goodness I’d already told Joe and Rachel a week ago. They’d had time to get used to the idea.
“Julian’s been a pain in the ass lately. Do you mind if we go somewhere else?”
To be honest, I didn’t really want to be around Adrian’s family, either. They were kind of party poopers. “Sure,” I yawned into the phone. “Where you wanna go?”
“We own a cabin a ways up the mountain. I was thinking we could go there and just hang out?”
“Sounds good,” I said sleepily. “Give me an hour to wake up and five minutes to get ready.”
He laughed. “I’ll pick you up at eleven. And do you mind if I bring Lucian along? I want to get him out of the house, and he seems to like you.”
That surprised me. “No, I don’t mind.”
“All right, we’ll pick you up in an hour. Dress sort of warm; it’ll take a while to heat up the cabin.”
“Okay,” I yawned again. “See you then.”
I hung up and buried another yawn in my pillow, then forced myself to get up. At 10:48 I’d managed to shower, dress, and make myself breakfast. I was spitting a mouthful of toothpaste into the sink when I heard Norah yell her usual mantra up the stairs.
“I’ll see you guys later,” I said as I headed toward the door.
“Be careful,” Joe grunted in my direction.
“Call us if you need anything,” Rachel offered.
I waved and headed out the front door. Rachel and I still didn’t exactly chat, but we’d unofficially declared a cease-fire for the holidays. Maybe I was finally getting used to this place. The rage that had once been a natural part of my day had quieted, and sometimes I even felt downright happy.
Through the window of the truck, I could see Lucian bouncing up and down excitedly. When he saw me, he climbed over Adrian and pressed his face and hands against the window. I smiled and waved at him; he grinned back, lips squished to the glass.
“Hello, Lucian,” I said as I climbed into the passenger seat.
“Hello,” he replied, squirming with excitement.
As we pulled out of the driveway, Lucian leaned forward, cranked the volume on the stereo to an almost painful level, and sang.
“Jesus is just all right … something! Jesus is just all right, oh yeah! Jesus is just something something! Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah!”
I stared quizzically at Adrian. “You got him hooked on The Doobie Brothers?”