Kason’s grip on the steering wheel is tense, knuckles nearly white, and I hate that he’s so nervous about my seeing where he lives. His fear that I’m somehow going to look at him differently is making me feel like I should be doing something more to comfort him. But I don’t want to coddle him like a child. It would probably make everything worse.
He picked me up from my house after work because he didn’t want me driving alone when I don’t know my way around his side of town. I try to reassure him with a silent smile when he glances my way, but I know it doesn’t have any effect on him.
When he pulls off the highway, I already see the stark difference between my neighborhood and his. Chain linked fences enclose the front yards of withered old houses. A tattooed guy, who is wearing a wife-beater and jeans slung way too low, is walking down the sidewalk, not bothering to step around the weeds that are jutting through the cracks. I peer over my shoulder at Kason, who’s so clean cut in his crisp white work polo and khaki shorts, looking every bit of the part of a South Tampa kid and nothing like the guy we just passed.
The car slows as we approach the apartment complex. He drives around the worn-down buildings, and my stomach grows uneasy. I’ve never been in an area like this before, and I feel very out of place and skittish. Kason would be hurt if he knew, so I feign indifference when he turns into a parking spot and shuts the car off.
He lets go of a heavy breath. “So, this is where I live.”
“Stop,” I gently chide when I see the shame in his eyes.
He fiddles with his keys for a second and then finally opens his door. Taking my hand in his, he leads me up the stairs and down the corridor to his apartment. Bass from a nearby car thumps loudly, and when Kason unlocks the door and holds it open for me, I come face to face with his reality.
I step inside, but I’m immediately distracted from taking in the surroundings when I see his mom sitting on the couch with a stack of mail on her lap.
“Hi, Mom.”
With her eyes on me, she stands and gives me the most endearing smile. There’s something about the small gesture that soothes some of my nerves.
“So, this is Adaline,” she says as she walks over to me, and I’m taken by surprise when she hugs me. “It’s so nice to meet you.”
“You, too.”
She then takes a small step back and eyes me up and down. “You’re a very pretty girl.”
“Mom.”
“What?” she defends. “She is.”
“I know, but—”
She wags her hand at Kason, and I laugh as he shakes his head at her. “Well, come over here and have a seat,” she invites. “Are you thirsty or anything?”
“No, I’m good. Thanks.” I sit next to her on the threadbare sofa, and Kason joins me. There’s no other seating in the room, only a rickety coffee table and a small television in the corner by the door.
I turn back to his mom and see she’s wearing a work uniform. I spot her name tag that reads “Sharon”.
“I was about to head off to work,” she tells me when she notices I’m looking at her clothes, and I apologize for staring.
“I’m sorry. I was reading your tag,” I explain. “Kason hadn’t mentioned your name.”
She touches her name tag and then smooths her hands down the front of her apron that’s tied around her waist. “It isn’t the best job in the world, but the people are very friendly.”
I read aloud the logo on her top. “Pete’s-A-Pie. Never been there.”
“You’re not missing much. Just an old diner that serves pizza and pies. It’s a horrible combination if you ask me. But the key lime pie is made from real key limes.”
“I’m more of a classic apple pie girl, but it has to be topped with a slice of cheddar cheese.”
“That sounds gross.”
My eyes widen in surprise when Kason says this, and I ask, “Have you ever tried it?”
“Why would anyone want cheese on their pie?”
“Because,” his mom says, “apple pie without cheese is like a kiss without a squeeze.”
“Oh my god,” I squeal with excitement. “My grandma used to say the same thing.”
“That’s because it’s true.” She places her hand on my knee and leans in. “Kason doesn’t know what he’s missing.”
Looking over my shoulder at him, I agree. “She’s right. It’s amazing.”
He shakes his head at the two of us, but he can’t hide the hint of a smile on his face.
“Well, I wish I could stay and chitchat a little longer, but I need to be going before I’m late.”
I stand when she gets off the couch and grabs her purse from the small coffee table.
“It was really good meeting you,” I tell her and truly mean it. Getting to finally talk to Kason’s mom makes me feel even closer to him, and with liking him as much as I do, I want that closeness.
She smiles and then peers around me to her son, saying, “Bring her over more often,” before acknowledging me with, “And it was great meeting you, too.”
“See ya, Mom.”
When she leaves and closes the door behind her, I turn to face Kason, and he’s smiling.
“What?”
He shakes his head, stands, and then pulls me into his arms. I can feel the relief in his hold.
“She’s really sweet,” I tell him, hugging him back.
He then takes my hand and walks me across the small space. With a quick look around, I note the bareness of the apartment. The walls are free of photos and artwork, and there’s hardly any furniture.
When I step into Kason’s room, there’s only a dresser and a full-size mattress that lays on the floor in the corner of the room; no bed frame at all.
I let go of his hand and take a step into his personal space. He has a number of skimboards leaning against the wall, and when I walk over to his bed, he turns on the lamp that sits on the dresser.
“What are you doing?” he asks as I kick off my shoes and crawl to the center of his mattress.
My hand runs over his sheets, and I smile. “I like it here.”
He cocks his head and smirks as he kicks his own shoes off and joins me on the bed. I lie in his arms and close my eyes.
“I didn’t think it would feel this good to have you here.”
I cuddle in closer. “I wish you wouldn’t have worried so much.”
He scoots down on the bed, and we turn onto our sides so we’re facing each other. When he cradles my cheeks, his brows furrow a bit as he asks, “Are you sure this doesn’t bother you?”
I reach up, run my hand along his jaw, and whisper, “I’m sure.”
He holds me firmly, and I wish he could feel what I feel on the inside, because if he could, he’d have no reason to doubt himself. And when he rests his head against mine, he closes his eyes and breathes, “I think I’m falling in love with you.”
Sparks flare from deep within my chest, his words caressing me from the inside out, and I feel like I could burst apart at any moment.
“There’s no thinking for me,” I tell him. He draws back and looks at me. “I know I’m falling in love with you.”
With our walls down, I kiss him and completely lose myself as time slips away from us. As his lips drag down my neck, I gather his shirt with my fingers and slip it off him. I hold him close, soaking in his warmth, begging for more.
Being here, in his world, in his bed, I feel like I could stay forever and be content. That’s how amazing he makes me feel—loved and wanted and cared for. Because in the end, that’s all that really matters between two people, and we have that. He gives it freely to me, and I give it right back to him.
His hand slips under the hem of my top, and when he takes my breast in his hand, I melt a little more.
“Is this okay?”
I nod my head against his shoulder, and he squeezes me before he lifts my shirt and kisses me over my bra. My hands get lost in his hair as he moves above me, closer than what we’ve ever been before, but it’s when his hand drops down my stomach and beneath the waistband of my shorts that my breath catches and I coil back.
He stops, and I heat with embarrassment, muttering, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. Do you want to stop?”
Tucked beneath him, I know this is exactly where I want to be. I’ve never been touched the way he’s touching me now, and the way he’s wanting to, but I know it’s his hands that are meant to be the first to do this, so I bashfully shake my head.
He’s slow when he continues to move again, and my pulse loses its tempo when he unbuttons my shorts and slips his hand down and over my panties. Self-consciousness takes over, so I hide my face when I wrap my arms around his neck and hug him close to me.
Every one of his touches ignites bundles of burning embers all over my body. My grip on him is strong. He then pushes his hand inside the fabric, touching my bare flesh, and I swear those embers fracture into wild scorching flames.
The tips of my fingers press into his shoulders as his glide along me in the most intimate way.
“God, you’re so soft,” he murmurs into my ear, and I loosen my hold around him when he kisses my temple.
Never have I been as close to anyone as I am with Kason right now, but it still doesn’t feel like enough.
“Kason?”
My voice is so feeble, I doubt he hears me as he keeps going, but a second later, he finally responds. “What is it, baby?”
I take a hard swallow and will myself to fight past my uncertainty. “I want to touch you.”
With my words, he reaches down with his one hand and unfastens his shorts.
I don’t move, and when his eyes flick to mine, I swallow another mouthful of fear and ask, “Will you show me how?”
He takes his hand from between my legs, cups my cheek, and kisses me. I blush when I smell myself on his fingers. I’m spiraled too tightly with insecurity while he’s so calm and in control. Kason shifts to his side and shoves down his shorts before taking my hand in his and lowering it between our bodies.
My heart races when I touch him for the first time. I hold him in my palm while he keeps his hand wrapped around mine. His breath grows heavy as he begins to guide my hand up and down the length of him. He’s insanely hot to the touch, and feeling how hard he is, I bashfully drop my head into the crook of his neck.
Every noise he emits turns me on, and when his grip strengthens around mine, I draw back and look at him. His eyes, heavy lidded and pinned to mine, transfix me.
“Keep doing it just like that,” he says on a staggering breath before taking his hand off mine and slipping it back between my legs and beneath my panties.
Touching each other the way we are, I feel it happening—I feel the tug of my heart as it tethers with his. It’s an overwhelming weight that takes control of me, but I don’t fear it. In fact, there is nowhere else I’d rather be, so I freely hand myself over to its force field.