“No, we didn’t.” I pointed to the bottle of chocolate sauce by the alarm clock and watched his eyes light up.
He twisted the lid and the jar made a soft popping sound as it opened. He stuck his index finger in and pulled it out covered in chocolate. He held it out towards me.
“Suck,” he said.
So I did.
At some point in the night we must have fallen asleep. It hadn’t been a conscious decision, more a sort of acknowledgment of sheer exhaustion.
Waking up was a struggle. My eyes were gritty with tiredness, and my body ached so much, I didn’t know which muscle to favor first. And there was chocolate everywhere!
Oh, the chocolate! Mmm, that had been good. No, that had been great. That had been fun.
We’d laughed so much. I couldn’t remember laughing so much, not ever.
And the way we’d explored each other’s body. I remembered again the touch of his fingers; the way his skin warmed against mine; the soft, wet heat of his lips, everywhere. The passion that had smoldered for hours, blazing suddenly into flames that burned.
I rolled over to find his eyes open, a smile of wonder on his face.
We didn’t speak; we just gazed at each other. I think I was smiling, too.
His fingers stroked my arm slowly, rhythmically.
I reached up to rest my hand on his cheek, but he pulled it to his lips and kissed the palm. I nestled into his body and his hand moved down to stroke my bare back.
I listened to the quiet, steady beat of his heart.
“We have to get up,” I said, sadly.
He nodded slowly but neither of us moved.
“When will I see you again?” he murmured.
“Today, at the picnic,” I said, trying to sound upbeat.
“You know what I mean.”
I sighed. I did know what he meant; I just didn’t have an answer. There was no tomorrow for us.
“We’ll figure something out,” I said, trying to sound reassuring.
“I hate this,” he said sulkily. “All the sneaking around, all the lies. I want everyone to know we’re together.”
“Fine!” I snapped. “Go ahead! Tell everyone! And then I can spend the next God knows how long in prison, or stuck on the sex offender registry and not able to get a job.”
I knew I was behaving badly, childishly, but I couldn’t seem to stop.
He gasped in shock. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he mumbled.
“Then what did you mean?” I said, my voice beginning to rise in volume. “Do you think I find this easy? Do you think I enjoy betraying people, lying to decent people like Donna and Shirley? Deceiving everyone? Do you think this isn’t hard for me? This isn’t a game, Sebastian!”
“I know that!” he yelled back. “It’s my life, too!”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’m just… a little tired. You’ve worn me out.”
That brought a slight smile to his lips but his eyes were still hurt and angry.
I knew I shouldn’t take my constant anxiety out on him.
“I’m sorry: it’s frustrating for me, too.”
“I don’t want to fight with you, Caro. I just want to be with you all the time. You’re all I think about.”
We lay there for a few more minutes, wishing the hands of the clock to slow in sympathy.
“Donna will be here in an hour,” I said quietly. “We have to get up.”
Our shower was over too quickly and my hands reluctantly let him go. We dressed in silence, the ache of separation already billowing between us.
I glanced at the bed where he had made such sweet love to me, the chocolatey sheets a reminder of a carefree night.
“Do they have other flavors?” asked Sebastian, following the direction of my gaze.
“I don’t know: probably. Maybe we should investigate?”
“I like peanut butter,” he said wistfully.
I raised my eyebrows. “Crunchy or smooth?”
He laughed, a little sadly, and pulled me into a hug.
“I’d better get going.”
“You don’t want breakfast?” I was surprised.
“You can’t risk driving me to the park today: half the neighbors will be outside in their yards. I’ll go through the back.”