Chapter Thirty-Six
Jaimie
This was what I had wanted: the two of us together, our bellies full of ravioli, making love gingerly but enthusiastically.
“You sure you’re feeling up to this?” I asked him as he brushed the hair out of my face. “We can find something else to do if it’s too painful. We can play a board game.”
“I am too wound up to play Cranium right now,” said Braxton. “The hardest part of getting through the weekend was not having you with me. Bones had nothing on that.”
“Sorry I was worse than Bones.” He was wearing a red plaid shirt, which I began to unbutton slowly beginning with the top button. “Do you mind if I’m really ridiculous when we make love?”
“No, why would I mind?” There was a smile in his voice and in his eyes.
“Sometimes I say the dumbest things when I’m with you. I think it’s because I’m excited. You bring out the silly side of me.”
“I like that side of you,” said Braxton. “I wouldn’t want you to hold it in.”
“Okay. Just—don’t repeat the things I say to you to anyone.”
“Babe, nothing we say or do leaves this room.”
“I’ll burn your house to the ground, swear to God.”
“Then I would have to come live here.” He lowered his head and gave me a long, slow kiss on the lips. “You wouldn’t want that to happen, would you?”
“That would be just the worst.” I placed my hands on either side of his stubbly cheeks and drew him in for another kiss. “Having to see each other every day…”
“Waking up and seeing you next to me…” He shivered theatrically.
“Who says I would let you share my bed?” I replied. “You’d be sleeping on the air mattress, with the cat.”
“I can’t imagine the air mattress would last long once the cat got hold of it,” said Braxton. “Then where would I sleep? On the floor?”
“I don’t know…” I shrugged mischievously. “I guess I might have to let you sleep on the bed.”
“Too bad.”
“Either that or one of us could sleep outside in the garden. It’s fairly warm in the summers. Or maybe we could both sleep in the garden.”
“Oh, scandalous.” He raised a hand to his mouth in mock horror. “What would the neighbors think of that?”
“They’d probably record it.” By now I had finished unbuttoning the shirt, and it hung loosely open, exposing his broad chest. “Do you remember that one episode of Buffy where Buffy and Riley are having so much sex that it, like, awakens the dead or something?” Braxton laughed. “I don’t know! I don’t remember all the details, I just know they spent most of the episode doin’ it.”
“Is that your favorite episode?” he asked.
“No, but it came shortly after my favorite episode, the one with the creepy gentlemen. I think they ran out of ideas about midway through the season. Either that, or Joss Whedon is just a big ol’ pervert.”
“Probably the latter,” said Braxton, nuzzling the side of my head. “Do you want to awaken the dead? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”
“I mean…” I laughed shyly. “I guess I’d rather reenact that episode than some of the other ones.”
“Like the one where she sleeps with Angel, and he becomes a soulless demon?”
“Yeah, wow.” I was quiet for a moment. “I think we already did that one.”
It was hard to remember now, but there had been a time when I thought my first sexual tryst with Braxton would be our last one. I was relieved to have been proven wrong, but even more relieved by the change in his character since that first awful night. He had transformed rapidly over the last several weeks into a man I could love and respect. I felt safe with him in a way I never could have done with the old Braxton.
“Hold on a sec.” Breaking away, I walked over to the dresser and brought up the Spotify app on my phone. “Mary Jane’s Last Dance” started playing. Braxton laughed and clapped his hands to the beat.
“Didn’t know you were a Tom Petty fan,” he said as I returned to the warmth of his embrace.
“Oh, hell yes,” I replied, dancing in time to the music. I loved that I could dance in front of him, could be an idiot in front of him, could be kinda chunky and kinda nerdy and kind of a big dork and he didn’t mind. If anything, he seemed to like me more because of all those things.
By now, Braxton had removed his shirt and stood bare-chested in blue jeans. He snaked his hands along the bottom of my purple top, lifting it just a little to expose my ample midriff. “Got to take off that party dress,” he sang as it rose inch by inch over my bra and past my shoulders. I let out a squeal of delight and shot my arms up as though in surrender.
With a thrill of satisfaction, I patted him approvingly on both sides of his belly. “Sorry, I just really like you,” I told him. “Sometimes I can’t hold it in.”
“I’m not even mad.” He traced his index finger up along the side of my torso and ran it over my silk black and gray bra. I could tell he wanted to run his hands all over my boobs but was holding back as though awaiting permission.
“You know I don’t mind,” I said. “You act like you’ve never seen a pair of boobs before.”
“Not like these,” murmured Braxton, his eyes wide. He seemed to be having trouble taking them all in at once. “You are just a feast for the eyes as well as the tongue.”
“Hope it’s not more than you can manage.”
“Nope. It’s perfect.”
Reaching around behind my back, he unhooked my bra and threw it on the pile on top of my shirt. A feeling of pride surged through me at the evident delight on his face as his eyes lingered on my pale nips. He must have felt like a lunar explorer traversing some alien landscape.
“You’re so—what’s the word?—voluptuous,” he said.
“Is that a crack about my weight?” I asked, laughing.
“No.” Sincerity shone in his eyes. “There’s just so much of you to explore.”
“Then you’d better begin.”
And he did.
***
Once it was all over, he lay back on the bed, looking breathless and pale. I sat astride his waist combing my fingers through his chest curls, marveling at the steady rise and fall of his breath.
“How was that?” he asked. “Better than the first time?”
I nodded. “Thank you for not running out on me and leaving me to clean up after myself.”
“Well, I try to at least learn from my mistakes.” He sat up stiffly and mussed my bangs with his lips. “I wouldn’t want you to stay with someone who was consistently awful to you.”
“You haven’t been awful.” I placed one hand over his heart. “Sometimes it’s enough just to lay here next to you. I think I would be crushed if anything were to happen to us.”
Braxton nodded, a solemn look in his dark eyes. Whenever I thought about the relationship ending, I wanted to burrow down next to him and never get up again. Maybe if we hunkered down together and shut out the world, nothing could ever come between us.
“I saw a movie once,” I said, “where the world was going to end in a few days, and there was no way to stop it. And the whole movie was this man and woman meeting and falling in love and trying to figure out how they were going to spend their last days on earth.”
“Did it have a happy ending?” asked Braxton.
I shook my head. “No, but that was sort of baked into the premise. You knew going into the movie that it wasn’t going to end well.” I placed a hand on his face, caressing his cheeks gently. “I think if I knew for sure the world was going to end, I’d probably do the same thing they did: climb into bed with my best friend and never get up again.”
Braxton pondered this for a moment before asking, “Am I your best friend?”
I took his hand in mine and kissed each of his fingers tenderly, one at a time. “You are.”