Light in the Shadows

CHAPTER Eighteen



-Maggie-



I was nervous. Screw it, I was really, really nervous. I stared at my reflection in the mirror and smoothed the skirt of my grey sweater dress for the millionth time since I had put it on. I looked cute. But was I trying to be cute? Sexy, amazing, or drop dead gorgeous would have been so much better.

But I was stuck with cute.

I had never been one to obsess about my looks like most teenage girls. I went with what God gave me and was okay with that. But for some reason tonight, I was freaking the hell out.

Which was beyond ridiculous. Because the person I was dressing up for already thought I was the most beautiful girl on the planet.

Poor deluded sap that he was.

Tonight was the “date.” Clay and I had talked a few times during the week and we hadn’t been able to agree on what we wanted to do. I didn’t want him to go to a lot of trouble. But he wanted to make it special.

And I could appreciate that. Because this felt like the beginning for us. Our first step toward a future that we had always wanted to have. Our chance to take things one step at a time, in the right order. Lord knows we skipped a whole bunch of pivotal moments the last time.

But now was about walking, not sprinting to the finish line. And I was happy to stroll.

Part of me wished this was the first time for us. That we didn’t have a butt load of baggage that always tickled the back of our minds with unwanted memories. I hated the twinge of distrust I continued to feel in Clay’s presence and I absolutely loathed the hyper vigilant anxiousness that I often felt from him.

I had been so lost in the blissful throes of reunion that it had taken a few days before the reality started to set in. I tried not to watch him and monitor his behavior. But it was habit. And I couldn’t help but watch for any indication that he had veered off the course to recovery and was lying to me all over again.

This was not the friendly feeling of déjà vu, but a smack a bitch in the face remembrance. And I didn’t like it one bit.

But I would have been the worst kind of naïve if I dusted off my rose colored glasses again. I could tell Clay was making every effort to show me things were different. But how different could they really be? Not that much time had passed. And given all that he had gone through, relapse almost seemed preordained.

Which was a shitty way of thinking. But think about it, I did.

But for tonight, I wanted to walk the road Clay was trying so hard to pave for us.

“You look lovely. Big plans tonight?” My mom peered into my room, a soft smile on her face. I tensed, ready to launch over hurdle number one.

I took a brush to my hair and tugged it through with enough force to make me wince. Just because I was nervous didn’t mean I had to inflict bodily harm. What had my poor hair ever done to me?

“Yeah. Actually, you got a minute, Mom?” I asked her, trying to control the wobble in my voice. My mom seemed to pick up on my apprehension and came in to sit down on my bed.

“You really need to clean this room. You can barely see the floor, Maggie May,” my mom scolded, picking up a pile of clothes and absently began to fold them.

I swallowed around the thick lump in my throat. “I’m going out with Clay tonight,” I let out in a rush. My mom’s hands stilled and she laid them on the clothes in her lap. I could see by the way her neck tensed up that she was not happy with my news.

But I refused to hide things from them ever again. I had played the part of the secretive teenager and it only served to demolish the trust my parents had in me. And that was not a place I wished to revisit anytime soon.

“Mom?” I ventured, wanting her to respond in some way. Her silence only served to increase the nervous flutter in my stomach.

My mom took a deep breath and looked up at me. She seemed tired and much older than I ever remember her being. Had I done this to her? Was I responsible for the new wrinkles around her eyes and the tired droop of her mouth?

“Okay,” she said slowly and I know my eyes popped out of my head.

“Okay?” I clarified, not sure I had heard her correctly.

My mom’s smile was tight. “Not the response you were expecting?” she asked me, moving the pile of clothes off to the side and folding her hands in her lap.

“Well, no. I was expecting something a bit more…explosive,” I admitted, eyeing her warily. Who was this woman and what had she done with my mother?

My mom patted the bed beside her and I quickly joined her. She brushed my bangs out of my face and rubbed my cheek. She seemed sad and tired and just like my dad several weeks ago, she appeared resigned.

“What would be the point of yelling and telling you not to go? Would you stay home? Would you forget about Clay?” she inquired, taking my hands and holding them lightly in hers.

I shook my head. “No. I wouldn’t,” I answered her honestly. My mom’s eyes began to glisten dangerously. I knew tears were imminent. I hated it when my mother cried. I felt helpless and guilty.

“I don’t want to lose all that we’ve worked so hard to rebuild between us. Your father and I love you. Before, with Clay, we were so scared for you. We knew what you had with him could only end in a broken heart. And I hate it that we were right.” I found it hard to breathe and my mom wrapped her arm around my shoulders.

“I know that if your dad and I had been more open minded. If we had listened instead of judging, things could have turned out very differently. But we were so terrified that our baby girl would get hurt that we went into shut down. You resented us. We were so angry. That was a horrible place to be.” She laid her cheek on the top of my head and I felt myself relax against her.

“You’re not the only one that can change, Maggie May. Even us old folks can learn a lesson or two. And the main one we’ve learned is we have to trust you to live your life. You’re going to make your own choices and I just hope that you know you can talk to us. About anything.” She pulled me up by my shoulders so that I was looking at her again.

“And I’m still scared for you, baby girl. Because I’m not sure how much has really changed for Clayton. I know he’s getting help now and that maybe he’s heading in the right direction. But it has been a very short period of time. You can’t expect miracles overnight. And given his struggles, I wouldn’t set yourself up for another round of disappointment and misery. If you’re really set on doing this with Clay again, then just make sure you remember the lessons you’ve learned.” Her advice was sound and I could only listen.

Before, I would have gotten defensive. Become angry at her insinuations. But after the events of last year, I could only take in her words and heed them. What else could I do? Denial hadn’t worked so well for me in the past.

“I will, Mom. I promise.” She kissed my cheek and got to her feet.

“What time will he be picking you up?” she asked. I looked at the clock on my bedside table and realized how late it was.

“He’s supposed to be here in an hour.” My mom made a clucking noise with her tongue.

“Your dad and I were heading out to dinner. But maybe we’ll wait until after the two of you leave.” I could tell my mom was extremely uncomfortable with the idea of me going out with Clay. But I also felt such an amazing love for my parents that they were being so reasonable about it.

“No, you guys go on. But I think maybe, I should bring Clay over. So you can spend some time together, get to know each other properly. I know there wasn’t much of a chance of that the last time.” My mom nodded.

“I’d like that. Well, if you’re okay with us leaving. We should get going. But be home by midnight and not a minute later.” I smiled, feeling us slip back into the more comfortable role of mother and daughter.

“Yes, ma’am,” I said. My mom tried to hide her grin as she pointed her finger at me.

“Not a minute later,” she warned again and I gave her a salute.

I sagged down onto my bed. Had that really happened? I was again reminded how truly lucky I was and how I swore to myself I wouldn’t let them down again. How easy it was to say that now. But deep down, I was all too aware of how a beautiful pair of brown eyes and messy dark hair could ruin everything.

***

By the time seven rolled around, I was a pacing, palm sweating, hair pulling mess. I had practically worn a hole in the carpet from my endless walking. You’d think I had never been out with a guy before. It was sort of ludicrous the way I was fretting about a dinner and a movie.

But I knew so much hinged on this evening. This would decide for me whether Clay and I were capable of a relationship not defined by his mental illness. When we were together before, I was swept up in the tumultuous emotions that he was living in. It was easy to get lost in the ups and downs, the sideways and back ways and all the other ways in between.

I had spent so much time thinking of ways to save him that everything else took a back seat. But here we were, months later, and I wasn’t sure what we were left with. How did we create a new relationship built on something other than his mood swings?

Was it masochistic of me to almost miss the turmoil? Because I knew, even in the middle of our crazy dysfunction, that he needed me. That he loved me. That I was all he wanted. Now, I wasn’t so sure. Were we fooling ourselves into thinking anything was left to build from?

Sure, the attraction was still there. But I worried that the depth of love we felt for one another was merely a symptom of the crisis we had found ourselves in.

And would I ever be able to look at him as just a boy? And not someone I had to watch like a hawk just to make sure he was taking his medicine? Would we ever be able to have the easy, relaxed way of being together that other couples have?

I would watch Rachel and Daniel and long for what they had deep in my bones. A love that was unquestionable and unwavering.

I just needed to give us time. Time to navigate through the unchartered waters we now found ourselves in. And I had to remember that nothing with Clayton Reed would ever be simple. I just had to decide if I was okay with that.

I was so deep in my thoughts that I barely registered the sound of the doorbell. It was only when a loud knock sounded on the door that I snapped out of it. There would be enough time later for over analyzation. Tonight was about Clay and me rediscovering everything we loved about one another.

"Um...wow. Thanks," I said in absolute and utter amazement. Clay stood at my doorstep wearing dark jeans, a pressed blue collared shirt, black wool coat and holding the largest bouquet of roses I had ever seen. It was obvious he had checked all of the required boxes on this "date". Down to his perfectly slicked back hair and over eager expression.

In the previous incarnation of our relationship we sort of skipped the whole "dating" thing.

Somewhere between saying hello and diving headfirst into the drama we had forgotten the basics. Our love hadn't been typically teenage in any way. We had gone zero to a million without so much as a trip to the movies or an uncomfortable dinner at Applebee's while we chatted about favorite bands and most embarrassing moments.

Looking at Clay all dolled up and standing almost timidly in front of me, I realized how much we had missed. How in the heat of our intense and crazy love we had forgotten the most important step in any relationship...the first date.

I felt a resurgence of my earlier sadness at those tiny moments that we hadn't experienced together. I took a deep breath and reached out for the roses. Clay's smile was shy and uncertain, showing me that he was as clueless as I was when it came to rewriting our history.

Was it possible to go back to the beginning? To try and rewrite a history that had already come to define us? To change the direction of fate and see where it took us?

I gripped the bundle of overpriced flowers in my hands and gasped in surprise. I lifted my finger and saw a bright red blob on the tip. Shit, I should have realized there were thorns. The bite of pain reminded me that we had a long way to go. That no matter how beautiful the package, the hurt was still there.

And I wasn't sure how long it would take for it to go away. Or if it ever would. But I reminded myself that now was not the time. The hurt would be there for me to think about…later.

"Are you alright?" Clay asked, moving toward me. I stuck my finger in my mouth. The tang of copper sharp on my tongue. I nodded my head and moved away before Clay could touch me.

I dropped the flowers on the table inside the door and grabbed my purse. I joined him on the porch and zipped up my coat.

“Are your parents here? I should say hi.” Clay peered into the house.

“No, they’re out. But I’ve been given a very strict curfew of midnight. Otherwise I’ll turn into a pumpkin or something,” I teased. Clay laughed, clearly relieved that the parental meet and greet would be postponed for another time.

"You ready then?" Clay asked, his smile less painful and much more heart wrenching. That was the kind of smile that could make a girl forget everything else. And at one time I had.

Was I ready?

Hell if I knew.

But looking at his hopeful expression I knew that I could only try.

I placed my hand in his outstretched one and squeezed lightly. “Lead on, kind sir. I’m entirely at your disposal,” I said as Clay pulled me toward his car. His entire demeanor seemed to change once we were in the car and headed down the road.

He was happy and carefree and yes…hopeful. And I knew then that I really liked the look of it on his face. I only wished it could stay there forever.

“So where are you taking me?” I asked, fiddling with his radio until I found a rock station playing the Dandy Warhols.

Clay grinned. “Oh we’re going total high school cliché tonight, baby. Full on dinner, a movie, then maybe a little making out in the backseat.” I enjoyed his teasing as well as his excitement.

“Wow,” I breathed out. I looked over at him coyly. “That sounds just about perfect.” Clay’s hand reached out to rest on my upper thigh and my entire body clenched under his touch. My earlier insecurities aside, one thing was for sure, the attraction we felt toward one another was alive and well.

“We’re not going to Red Lobster, are we?” I joked, reminding him of our silly dinner the night of the Fall Formal. The same night he had lost it and declared his feelings for me. It had been a beautiful night. And a scary one. That was the way with Clay and me. The good had always been so intertwined with the bad, it was hard to have one without the other.

Clay’s face fell at the memory and I knew mentioning the night that was so full of turmoil for the both of us, was perhaps not the best idea. But then he seemed to shake himself out of whatever dark place he had started to go and smiled again. And I let out a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding and felt relief that the moment had passed without incident.

“Nope, no Red Lobster. I’m doin’ it right, we’re going to Ruby Tuesdays.” I laughed then, deep and genuine. Clay joined in and this felt good. The two of us, together, enjoying each other’s company.

The restaurant was packed but we were seated almost immediately in a booth in the atrium. “Awesome! Easy access to the salad bar!” I enthused. Clay winked at me as he slid onto the bench seat across from me.

“What, you’re not going to sit beside me, like that old couple over there? We can listen to each other chew and stare at the wall.” I patted the seat beside me and Clay chuckled. We both looked over at an elderly couple one booth over. And yep, they were sitting on the same side of the booth. Neither of them spoke to each other, more focused on their food. Clay and I looked at each other again and broke into laughter.

When we finally calmed down Clay reached across the table and grabbed my hand. “This feels really good, Mags,” he said softly, his eyes sparkling. I swallowed thickly, feeling overcome with a different kind of emotion. One that could only be described as borderline euphoria. I was feeling high on being here with him. Of knowing he wasn’t going anywhere. The gift of that wasn’t lost on me.

The waitress came and took our drink orders and we were left alone again. Clay seemed content to look at me. With anyone else, that would have made me supremely uncomfortable. With Clay it just made me warm all over.

“How’s Ruby doing?” I asked, taking a sip of my soda. Clay swirled the ice in his water, poking the lemon with his finger.

“Ah, well, she’s the same. She did go into the shop this morning. So, that’s something, I guess.” He sounded sad and I thought hard about something helpful to say.

“You just have to give her time. You can’t get over losing someone overnight. These things are a process,” I said with a tone that spoke of experience. Clay’s eyes rested on me.

And there it was, the giant, tap dancing, tutu wearing elephant in the room. It demanded for us to acknowledge it but I was scared once that box was opened, it would reveal things I would rather not know. But that was my need for denial again. It was like a comfortable pair of slippers that my feet wanted to put back on. Crazy how being with Clay brought out those impulses.

“No, I guess not,” Clay replied heavily. We were saved from continuing the entirely too serious conversation by the reappearance of our waitress. After we gave her our food orders, I was desperate to move onto something a bit easier to stomach before eating.

“So, I’ve been thinking about getting a tattoo,” I told him shyly. Clay’s eyebrows rose.

“Really? What would you get?” he asked me. I rooted through my purse and found a pen. Pulling the cap off with my teeth, I grabbed one of the beverage napkins and quickly drew a symbol. It looked like a lopsided upside down U.

Clay pulled the napkin closer and studied it. “What is it?” he traced his finger over the groove from my pen.

“It the rune Uruz. It’s for healing, endurance, courage. I found it in one of the books Ruby gave me a few weeks back. It just, I don’t know, made sense. I like what it stands for.” I flipped my hand over and touched the sensitive skin on the underside of my wrist. “Just a small one, right here.”

Clay slid his finger along the curve of my wrist, rubbing the spot I had indicated. I hoped he wouldn’t think I was stupid. But there was something empowering about the symbol. As though branding it on my body would remind me that I possessed those qualities, even when they were hard to find.

“I like it. In fact, it sounds perfect.” His fingers dropped from my skin and I pulled my hand back into my lap. Clay’s lips quirked into a grin. “Ruby would love it. You should tell her about it. Hell, she’ll probably want to go with you to get it.” The seriousness of the moment passed and I felt myself back on even footing.

“Yeah, maybe I’ll ask her. I was actually thinking of getting it for my birthday.” Clay’s smile spread.

“Was that a hint? Trying to make sure I don’t forget your birthday?” he joked and I felt my face flush.

“No, really. I was just saying,” I stuttered, feeling like an idiot.

Clay nudged my foot with his. “As if I could forget your birthday,” he said quietly and my insides quivered at the soft look in his eyes.

We ate our dinner and talked. About everything and nothing at all. We seemed to reach an unspoken understanding to leave the heavier stuff for later. Right now, we simply enjoyed each other’s company. After Clay paid the bill, we slid out of the booth and he helped me into my coat, his hands lingering as they pulled it up over my arms.

“Ready for part two of our stereotypically normal date?” Clay asked me after we were buckled up in his car.

“Lead on! I’m ready for some more clichéd date madness.”

And that’s what we did. We watched a movie, choosing a lighthearted comedy that had us both cracking up. We shared a tub of popcorn and we playfully fought over the carton of Milk Duds. Clay held my hand the whole time, slowly rubbing the pad of his thumb along the skin between my thumb and forefinger. It was so thankfully simple.

We saw a few people from school and I knew they were watching us like we were animals at the zoo. But even that couldn’t ruin our good time.

After the movie, we still had an hour until I had to be at home, so Clay drove us outside of town. It wasn’t until he pulled down a small dirt road that I knew where he was taking us. Killing the engine once we got to our destination, I turned to him, pointing my finger into his chest.

“No swimming tonight, we’ll freeze our butts off,” I warned and Clay brought my finger up to his lips.

“No swimming. Hypothermia wasn’t part of my plans for you tonight,” he said, his voice taking on a decidedly seductive tone. Hmmm, what exactly did he have planned for me tonight? If it involved his hands and tongue then I was ready to put said plan into action. He opened his car door and came around to the other side to open mine. Climbing out, I rubbed my arms, feeling the night’s chill.

Clay got a thick quilt out of the trunk and laid it down on the ground. He pulled me down beside him and I tried not to shiver as the cold ground seeped through the blanket. “It’s not exactly warm out, you know.” I tried not to whine, but I was starting to shiver.

Clay wrapped me in his arms and pulled the blanket up around us. He nuzzled his cold nose into the side of my neck. “Is that better?” he whispered and I nodded. I wasn’t feeling the cold anymore. As long as he held me like this, there would be no complaining out of me.

“Thank you for a wonderful night,” Clay said into my hair, kissing the corner of my eye. I relaxed into him, leaning my head back to look up at the clear night sky.

“I never thought we’d get here,” I remarked quietly. Clay’s grip tightened.

“Me either. But we are. And it makes me feel like just maybe everything else was worth it. If it brought us to this point.” I felt his fingers in my hair and when I shivered this time it had more to do with my whacked out hormones than the cold air.

“I’ve really missed you. It killed me not being able to talk to you. To not know how you were doing.” I turned to look at Clay. “I want to be able to ask how things are with you. If you’re still taking your medication. If therapy is working. I want to know about your time in treatment. I want to ask you a million and one questions, but I’ll be honest with you, I’m scared to. I suppose it’s because I worry that I won’t necessarily like the answers. That probably sounds horribly unsupportive but I just wanted you to know how I felt.”

I couldn’t believe I had just said all that. But there was something about being here with him like this that hit my honesty button and I couldn’t sit quietly and pretend that these thoughts weren’t swirling around in my head.

Clay ran his hand through his hair, a total giveaway that he was nervous and unsure. “I want to answer your questions. I really do. I want to put these fears of yours to rest. But at the same time, I’m worried I’ll bring us back to that place we were before. When everything was about me and my stuff. I don’t want that for us this time. It wasn’t fair to you.”

Gripping the blanket around me, I slithered onto his lap, my legs straddling him and I put my arms around his chest. Resting my cheek over his heart I could hear how fast it was beating. Past experience told me that talking about this could bring about a potential meltdown. Clay didn’t have a history of being very receptive to discussing his mental illness. But if we were both serious about being totally open, then I couldn’t tip toe around the bigger issues.

“But, Clay, if we don’t talk about it, things won’t change. You and I spent way too much time ignoring what was going on. We can’t do that again,” I pleaded.

I felt Clay take a deep breath, my body rising and falling with his. His fingers curled into tight fists as he held me. This was an important moment. For both of us. Denial and mistrust had characterized our relationship for so long. Nothing but total honesty would be welcome from here on out.

“It’s hard. Every day, every minute, is a struggle,” he began. I sat up so that I could look at him. He stared off to the side, his jaw tense.

“When I was admitted to the Grayson Center, I was a mess. After everything that happened in North Carolina, I wasn’t thinking clearly. I was so screwed up in the head that on my first night there, I tried to climb out of my window.” I wish I could have been surprised by his revelation but I wasn’t. I remembered all too well the state he was in when I had left him that hospital room in the hands of the two people who loved him the least, even when it was their job to support him.

“I was caught of course. And I spent five days on some heavy duty tranquilizers. I was kept numb and emotionless until I was able to start dealing with things. You know you’re in a bad place when drool starts to crust over on your face because it’s been there for so long,” Clay grimaced and I blanched.

“Well, that’s a really gross image,” I muttered. All I could think about was the movie Shutter Island and the electroshock therapy and patients wandering around in long white gowns.

Clay gave a humorless laugh before returning to his story. “I was poked and prodded so much that I felt like some sort of science experiment gone badly, but I just didn’t care. I was past worrying about myself. I hated my parents, I hated myself, I hated the staff, my only thought was biding my time until I could leave. And I knew once that happened, I would make sure to finish what I had started in that motel room.”

My heart was hammering in my chest. This is exactly what I was afraid of. This was everything I had feared for him when his parents took him away. To know that he had been alone and suffering was like a knife to my gut.

I discreetly brushed away the tears that had silently made their way down my cheeks, making sure that he didn’t see how much his words were hurting me. I knew that if he saw, he may shut down and not talk about it at all. And I didn’t want that, even though his story was tearing me apart.

“But at some point, it all changed. I’m not sure what did it exactly. Maybe it was the new medication. Once I was off the Lithium and started taking the Tegretol, I started to feel…well, not better exactly, but I wasn’t experiencing the out of control swings anymore. The f*cked up thing was I missed the mania. I still miss it. I liked the person I was when I was feeling that high.” He sounded almost wistful when talking about his manic swings. I didn’t understand how he could ever want to feel like that, but I didn’t say anything. The truth was I’d never understand any of this. I could only listen and support him.

“But you’re still taking your meds, right?” I had to ask. His refusal to take his medication had been our biggest problem. He needed them. He couldn’t function without them. I wasn’t sure there would ever be a day I didn’t worry whether he was taking them or not.

Clay met my eyes, they burned straight into mine. “Yes, Maggie. I haven’t missed a pill since I started the Tegretol. I swear to you, I won’t do that to myself again,” he said firmly and with total conviction. My belly uncoiled a bit.

Clay ran his hands up and down my back, as though the action comforted him. I knew this was hard for him to talk about.

“I know that stopping my medication isn’t an option. I’ll have to take them every day for the rest of my life. It’s just how it is. I think I’ve come to terms with that. Or at least, I’m trying.” The rhythmic movement of his hands continued and I tried to relax. But I was wound too tight.

“I’m glad to hear that,” I told him and he gave me a small smile but didn’t respond to my statement.

“Dr. Todd said sometimes it takes changing your medication multiple times until you find something that works with your body chemistry. I was lucky that I found what worked for me so quickly. Because the trial and error period is horrible. I saw it first hand in some of the other patients. They were miserable.”

“Dr. Todd?” I asked.

Clay nodded. “Yeah, Dr. Todd. He was my therapist at Grayson’s. He’s pretty cool. He’s the first shrink I’ve had that made me feel like I had a chance at dealing with everything. He just…got me, you know?”

“And your new therapist, what’s he like?”

Clay shrugged. “He’s nice. I like him. He and Dr. Todd are working closely together right now, so that’s cool. He’s different, but I think we’ll get on fine.” I was relieved to hear that. Clay smirked at me and I raised my eyebrows at him in question.

“Actually, he’s suggested I bring you in for one of my sessions,” he said, surprising me.

“Me? Why would he want to see me?” I squeaked. I knew this took a lot for Clay to say, but I was sort of weirded out by the thought of going to therapy. Weren’t we too young for couple’s counseling?

Clay laughed. “That’s what I said. But he told me it would be good for us to talk about our relationship, to make sure we don’t fall back into old patterns. Both Shaemus and Dr. Todd are very aware of how important you are to me and they just want to make sure what we have is healthy. For both of us. It’s easy to put your feelings in the backseat. I know you got sucked under by what I was going through. But we have to go into this as equals. It can’t just be about me”

What could I say to that? He had always been amazingly insightful and self-aware. But his inability to change or control his behaviors caused immeasurable damage. Yet, here he was, one institution stay later, saying things that I never thought I’d hear. I wasn’t delusional enough to think he was all fixed now. I knew this was an ongoing process. But what he was laying at my feet was the opportunity to share with him in his healing. Something he had denied me when he went away.

Something I knew I would jump at the chance to do.

“Of course I’ll go with you. I’ll do whatever I can to make sure you’re happy and healthy. I want us to work. I want this to last. You just let me know when and I’m there,” I promised.

Clay cupped my face between his hands and the look in his eyes made me feel all gooey. “You are the most selfless and amazing person I’ve ever met Maggie May Young. I don’t know what I did to deserve you. I will try every single day to make sure I’m worthy of the faith you put in me.”

I leaned forward and touched my lips, ever so gently against his. He hummed in approval and moved one hand to cup the back of my neck while the other snaked around my middle, pulling me closer. I was pressed up against him, our mouths moving against one another and I couldn’t ignore the tingling heat that was creeping its way through my body.

When his tongue touched the seam of my lips, I opened them without hesitation. Our tongues tangled together as we devoured one another. I gripped at his shirt, the blanket falling away from my shoulders and his hands moved down my body.

His fingers stopped just shy of the hem of my dress, which had hiked up my thighs and was barely covering my bottom half. How easy it would be to jump back into the physical side of our relationship. When everything else had been so crazy, that was one thing that had always made sense. When our bodies came together it had been the most beautiful thing I had ever known.

I could feel how much Clay wanted me. It was pressed intimately against the valley between my legs as I squirmed in his lap. He groaned, rich and raw in the back of his throat, his fingers digging into my flesh, the only barrier being my thin tights.

But just as soon as we were moving to where I wanted to go, Clay pulled away. His eyes were tightly closed and his breathing ragged. My heart hammered in my chest and I had to fight myself for control. I wanted him. More than anything.

“Maggie,” my name came out as a moan and it was such a turn on. I pressed against him again; ready to pick up where we had so abruptly left off.

Clay put his hands on my shoulders and I thought he was going to pull me closer but instead he held me away from his body. “We can’t. Not yet.” He opened eyes that were heavy with desire and I knew that he only half meant his words.

I blinked in confusion. “What? Why?” I hated how whiney I sounded. My body was buzzing and I wanted so desperately to be with him. In every way that mattered.

“I want you. I want this. So much. But we can’t. Not while things are still so unstable. Please, just give me some time. I want everything to be perfect for you. I want to be the guy you deserve. Just understand, that when we’re together again, it will be amazing and wonderful and my head will be in a place where I know I can give you everything you ever wanted.” I slithered off his lap trying not to act like a petulant child.

“I get it. It’s fine.” What a lie. I was feeling absurdly rejected. I had always been the aggressor in the physical side of our relationship. I suppose, I was hoping this once, I wouldn’t have to be. It was stupid and immature but when you’re in the heat of the moment, only to be denied what your body wants so badly, it’s hard to see things logically.

“Maggie. Please don’t look like that. I love you. There is nothing in this world I want more than to make love to you. But let’s just take this slow. It will be better in the long run. For both of us.” His pleading made it difficult to stay miffed.

I laid my head down on his shoulder, turning my face into his shirt and kissed the spot just above his heart. “Okay,” I said quietly. Clay held me tightly to his side and we were quiet. And for the time being, it was enough.