“Yeah?”
“Can you do me a favour? I forgot to bring clean underwear in. Can you get me some? It’s in the top drawer.” In that split second, I thought about what I’d just asked him to do. Go through bras which have seen better days and comfy knickers which should never be seen by anyone other than me? Ruin the illusion that I’m always dressed in pretty, matching underwear? I couldn’t do it.
“Actually, my dressing gown is on the back of the door. Can you just pass that through?” I waited, praying he hadn’t decided to find the underwear.
“You’ll have to unlock the door.” I turned the lock and his brown arm handed over the dressing gown. “You’ve got six minutes.”
“Six minutes? I still need to dry my hair!”
“Well, you’d better hurry up then, hadn’t you?” He closed the door and I put it on before finger-combing my damp hair. When it came to that moment, it wasn’t about the furry legs at all. It was about feeling ready. Ready to show him how much I loved him. How much I wanted him. How much I needed him.
I walked out of the bathroom with a sense of confidence. In us.
And there he was.
Lying on my bed.
In just his low-slung jeans, arms behind his head.
Smiling.
There was absolutely no way I could do anything other than look at him.
“Four minutes,” he said, looking back at me, his voice slightly lower than usual.
I forced myself to turn around and blast-dry my hair upside down. After running the brush through it a few times, I was happy with it. I knew it was going to get messed up and, all of a sudden, four minutes sounded too long to wait.
“Done.” I turned and stood, wondering who was going to make the first move.
“Come here.” He shuffled over and lay on his side, making room for me next to him. I lay down, mirroring his position. “Possibly the longest half hour of my life,” he said, tracing his fingers over my eyes, my cheeks, my lips. “You look beautiful. You smell beautiful. You are beautiful.” I raised my hands and did the same, repeating his words back to him.
I can’t remember which one of us moved in closer. It didn’t matter. This wasn’t about either of us. It was about both of us. As we kissed and touched and explored, I was glad he had made us wait. This wasn’t the heated need for release which had taken place in the car park; this was about renewing our worship of each other.
My dressing gown was getting tangled between us, so I took it off and he ran a fingertip along my side from shoulder to hip, complete adoration on his face. I undid his jeans and he moved onto his back to wriggle out of them. And that’s when I saw it for the first time. His tattoo.
“Sit up!” Something in my voice told him he needed to follow the instruction, even though his jeans were still around his ankles. I couldn’t stop my hands touching it.
“What is it?” I knew what it was.
“Myrtle.” Nothing could have prepared me for the emotion I would feel at that moment. I knew what the tattoo of the oak tree meant to him. What adding myrtle to that meant to him.
“It’s amazing.”
“Yeah, he did a good job, didn’t he? The tree looks so much better as well now.”
“It looks amazing but it’s more amazing that you would do this. Have me inked permanently onto your body. Next to your dad.” I struggled to articulate how significant I knew this was.
“Why? Being apart from you taught me something important, Myrtle. I want you with me until the day I die. Until I breathe my last breath. So, this, this was the easiest decision in the world.” I kissed the tattoo before kissing him on the mouth.
“Take your jeans off, Jake.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He lifted his lower body and removed his jeans and boxers. “What now?”
We both knew it was a rhetorical question.
When I woke, the room was dark and I was being held possessively against Jake’s chest, head under his chin. My body ached from the different ways we had each proven our love until we had drifted off in a moment of satisfied calm. I stretched my arm over to check the time on my phone. 10:16pm.
“So, it’s not a dream, then?” Jake’s hand cupped my breast. “You’re real? This is real?”
“Don’t use corny lines as an excuse to cop a feel!” I swatted his hand and tried to move toward the edge of the bed. He rolled us over so that he was over me, above me, everywhere on me. “Do you want something to eat?”