Sheltered (12 page)

“What’s not enough?” she asked, then didn’t know how she’d dared. What if he said something terrible, like
you
?

“The time we have. It’s not enough.”

She thought of him getting up and getting up, a million times over.

“But you always want to go,” she said, too abruptly. God it sounded stupid, once she’d gotten it out—but really what else could she say?
Yeah, you’re right, let’s not see each other again?

“Evie, I don’t
want
to go. I want to be with you, I do, but lately I’ve just been thinking that maybe…”

She held her breath. Tried to imagine the words before he said them.
But lately I’ve just been thinking that maybe you’re too fragile. But lately I’ve just been thinking that maybe this is all a mistake. But lately I’ve just been thinking that maybe you’re a girl with a curfew, and there’s this other chick I know, Vicki—

“My parents are going away for the weekend.”

Of course she kind of hated herself for saying it. It came out almost like a placatory sort of gesture—
don’t go off with Vicki
.
I’ve got something to offer too.
But once she’d said it he just seemed confused.

“What?”

“My parents are going away, this weekend.” She paused. Wondered if she should spell it out. “You could come over, if you wanted to.”

“Evie…”

“I mean—to stay. With me.”

His mouth opened, then closed again. She’d have given her right eye to know what it was he wanted to say. Somehow she suspected it wasn’t what he finally came out with.

“Okay. If that’s what you want.”

She nodded, resolute.

“It is.”

* * * * *

She made sure all the drapes were closed. Shut and re-shut them a thousand times. Put on the television, then turned it off. Thought about making some dinner for them to share, then decided against it. She’d already done the weak, offering something sort of thing. If she made dinner the effect might seem even worse.

As though she’d tried to make herself into an actual
girlfriend
, instead of…this thing.

Though as it turned out, the dinner didn’t matter. He arrived at seven on the dot, with a big bag of something that smelled like warm heaven. And while she stood in the middle of the kitchen, feeling as if her skin had grown bristles, he asked her idle things like,
Where are your plates
?

It took all of five minutes to wind her back down again. He just did it all in such a relaxed sort of way, everything easy and not like the conversation they’d had in the grass. If he had any further thoughts about not wanting to be with her, he didn’t show them.

He just kissed her cheek and handed her a plate of completely alien food, until her body filled with warmth and her mind filled with a clear and certain knowledge—this was what real couples did. They sat at the counter in the middle of their kitchens, and shared out food, and then asked normal questions like, “Hey, you okay? You seem a little…”

He left it hanging in there, for her to pick up. She wasn’t sure she could, however. He’d brought Chinese food. He had a bag, with, like, overnight things in it. He probably had his toothbrush in there, for God’s sake.

“Just tell me if you want me to go,” he said, and again she wondered what he’d been about to say.
Lately I’ve just been thinking that maybe
…

“I don’t want you to go.” She pushed several unidentifiable things around her plate with a fork. He had chopsticks, and he used them as if he’d been doing it since the age of five. “This all just seems so…”

“Overwhelming?”

“I was going to say nice.”

He considered, as he expertly maneuvered his food around.

“You mean the bad kind of nice though, right?”

“I mean the kind of nice I’m not really familiar with.”

He didn’t do what she expected him to once she’d said it, however. She thought it sounded mean, somehow. Rude, even—like the words she’d spoken in the grass.
I have to be home by four, so get the fuck off me.

But he just reached over and put a hand on her shoulder. On the back of her neck. Rubbed there, until all her muscles turned to jelly.

“I want you to be familiar with it,” he said. “This is how things should be.”

She imagined him coming home every night with a bag of food. Getting the plates, rubbing her neck, saying soft things. Did other people do that stuff, all the time?

“I’m not even familiar with this food. Yesterday I had tomato sandwiches for dinner. With tepid water. And the tepid water was the most interesting part of the meal.”

The hand dropped away, but he had the most awesome smile for her instead. All the way across his face, with teeth and everything.

“Here,” he said, then identified a few of the various elements on her plate. Mostly it seemed like a lot of pork, but it didn’t taste like pork, in her mouth. It tasted like having an orgasm.

“Holy crap.”

“Did you just say crap?”

“I might also say damn. Do you eat this stuff all the time?”

She tried to eat another forkful without seeming like a starving person.

“Sure.”

Well, of course he did. He used chopsticks and knew what everything was called, and oh—he had that Chinese restaurant across from him. Oh Jesus,
he had that Chinese restaurant across from him
. She stopped with her fork halfway to her mouth.

“This isn’t the place that chops off the chicken heads, is it?”

He touched his tongue to his upper lip. Of course he meant it as an amused sort of gesture—quite obviously so. But somehow it didn’t translate to her pleasure centers that way. Her pleasure centers just said,
Oh, so you want us to wake up, now
?
I guess we can manage that.

“If I told you it was would you stop eating?”

He was teasing her. Actually teasing. Weird, that it felt like a relief after Monday’s conversation.

“Probably not.”

He shook his head, still amused in that lovely, heated sort of way.

“It’s not the chicken head Chinese. Eat your food.”

She did. In fact, she did more than that. She licked her plate, and then the insides of the containers, and then finally her sticky, sauce-covered fingers. Of course she hardly realized he was watching her until that last one, but it didn’t embarrass her as badly as it probably should have done.

Instead she curled her tongue around one fingertip, heart suddenly giddy in her chest. Was he watching her in…you know.
That
way
?

“Tease,” he said.

So maybe yeah. He was watching her in that way. She looked a mess and most likely had sauce all around her mouth and all down her top, but he was watching her in that way.

“Come here,” he said, but it was him who leaned forward over the table. Him who cupped the side of her face and drew her close, quite suddenly, and kissed her.

Only he didn’t exactly kiss her. He licked the corner of her mouth instead, where there was most likely sauce. He licked it and licked it, and then once he was done cleaning her in a way that made her go all weird inside, he pushed his lips against hers, hungrily.

He tasted like that spicy thing, again. Stronger though this time—so much so that she had to ask.

“What’s in the food?”

He pulled back—a little breathless. A little curious.

“Why?”

When he kissed her this time, she felt it go all the way down through her body. He just did it so lazily, as if they had all the time in the world. He could touch his mouth to hers then pull back, then start all over again.

Things were better, with more time.

“Because you always taste that way.”

“Like stale Chinese food?”

She nudged him. “Like something sweet. I thought it was cinnamon, but—”

Comprehension dawned on his face, all in a rush. “Oh—yeah. Yeah.” He clicked his fingers and stood, went for his bag in the corner. “It’s star anise. Aniseed.”

When he finally emerged from the front pocket of his backpack, he had a little jar of candy in his hand. Like Red Hots, only darker, and rounder.

“I used to smoke—real cigarettes. Now I’m just addicted to these.” He held them out for her. “Want one?”

“I guess you’re all the way bad now. Offering me candy. You want me to get into your truck too, stranger?”

“Very funny. You want one or not?”

She did, but found she didn’t want to eat it right away. When his back was turned again she wrapped it in a napkin and put it in her pocket. Later, when she couldn’t so easily remember the taste of him, she’d try the candy.

“So what do you want to do now, honey?” He still had his back to her, as he wrestled with the zip on his bag. Again she thought of the things that could be in there—pajamas, razor, a change of clothes.

Condoms.

“I brought some movies you’ve most likely never been allowed to watch.”

She couldn’t stop her heart leaping.
Movies.
Not
Johnny Did A Bad Thing
or some documentary about a really Godly person. Actual and real films with probable sex in them and maybe people’s heads coming off and things.

But in the end, she couldn’t possibly choose them.

“Let’s go upstairs,” she said instead. As light as she could possibly make it, nothing in her voice that hinted at what they could possibly
do
upstairs. On her bed. With the condoms.

He still turned and looked at her, however. That familiar look on his face, like maybe he wanted to say
no
.
Slow down. Stop
.
We can’t.
But when he finally got some words out, they didn’t match the expression.

“You go up,” he said. “I’ll clear the plates and be up in a second.”

He was going to be up in a second. He’d said it. He wanted more, and although the idea of more scared her it also made her almost electrically giddy. She had to think of dull things just to keep it contained, and the longer he took the worse it got.

By the time he finally, finally walked into her bedroom, she’d made great twisted shapes in her ridiculous frilly pink coverlet. The rest of her cotton-candy ten-year-old’s bedroom didn’t even embarrass her, because every one of her thoughts was directed at what might possibly happen now.

Unfortunately, however, the décor seemed to embarrass him. He looked stunned once he’d shut the door behind him, and it was obvious why. There were pictures of babies in flowerpots on the walls. Things had frills. The frills had frills.

And all of it made her want to explain, somehow.

“I didn’t—” she started, but he cut her off like a cleaver coming down.

“Are you
naked
?”

The words didn’t so much die in her mouth as turn into something else altogether. Couldn’t be helped, though. Her words had expected one thing, and prepared a defense. And then he’d given her another thing instead.

Something she couldn’t exactly deny.

“Maybe.”

Even hedging sounded stupid.

“You’re totally naked under those covers. You’ve taken all your clothes off.”

She fidgeted. His open mouth just looked absolutely huge—like a mime’s version of shock. Somehow, she’d inspired a comedy caricature of a real emotion.

“There may have been some removal of the things I was wearing, yes.”

He held up his hands.

“Whoa, no. No. That’s not…that’s too much. Too fast.”

There were times, many, many times, when she just didn’t
get
him. She’d heard on numerous occasions that men were bad, wicked creatures, who’d do terrible things at a moment’s notice. You wore the wrong skirt or bent over at an inopportune time and BAM. They slipped their penises into you.

But not Van. He actively backed away from it—heck, he backed away from it even after he’d said he wanted more. And though she suspected that sex wasn’t exactly what he’d meant, even so, even so.

It was what
she’d
meant. She wanted it to be in there, meaning something.

“I thought you said it wasn’t enough—” she started, but he laid his hand over his eyes before she could finish.

“God,
no
. Evie—I wasn’t asking you to put out.” He swallowed too thickly. Pushed that hand through his hair hard, hard. “Fuck. I’ve somehow become one of those guys who manipulates his girlfriend into having sex before she’s ready.”

The weirdest thing went through her, when he said those last words. It felt like the urge she’d had to go to him, when she’d seen the bruise that was still apparent on his face.

She couldn’t go with it, however. Something else needed clarifying first.

“I’m your
girlfriend
?”

His expression softened immediately, immeasurably. She suspected hurt was at least twenty percent responsible for the change, however. No wonder she’d wanted to go to him—he was actually wounded by what she’d said. And now that she’d spelled out exactly what she thought of their situation, it got worse.