My heart is pounding so hard I’m almost certain he can hear it. I want him to kiss me. I want to lose myself in the feeling of being wanted, and erase the complicated mess I made of our date tonight. I avoided looking at him and his bare chest for as long as I could, but now the serious stuff has been discussed and he is right in front of me, all I want to do is wrap my arms around his body.

“I want to kiss you,” he says.

“But...” Surprised, I try and school my face to not sound disappointed that he doesn’t want to.

“Stop that,” he orders. His grip on my cheeks loosens, and he’s lazily running his thumbs up and down my jaw.

“What?”

“I see your mind ticking, assuming all sorts of things. And I’m almost certain whatever it is you’re thinking you’re wrong.”

“I’m not thinking anything,” I say defensively. I want to break eye contact, to avoid his knowing eye, but I’m not strong enough to resist the temptation of reaching out to touch his chest. So, I look to the ceiling petulantly.

“As I was saying, I want to kiss you. But I want to ask you something first.”

I look back down at his face. “What?”

“Do you want to sleep over?” he says with a smirk.

I burst out laughing, and he soon follows. “That’s definitely not what I was expecting.”

“Well, it’s late, and I was half asleep when you knocked, but I’m not ready to let you go home.” I’m torn between doing what I want or restricting myself to play it cool. Mom was already asleep when I left, and like anytime I’ve ever come here, knowing she’s safe has always been my priority. She very rarely wakes up during the night to drink and cry. It’s usually something she does to pass the time during the day.

“I promise to keep it PG,” he says, interrupting my thoughts.

“Really? I'd like to see you try,” I scoff. His hands drop to mine and he holds onto them lifting us both up. He grips my waist. “I'll make you breakfast in the morning.” I rest my hands on his upper arms and squeeze. “I don't think I can stay for breakfast.”

“That's ok,” he says. It’s his decision to not ask me why that seals the deal. I slide my hands down his warm skin and look at our hands clasped together. It’s in moments like these I realize the biggest sense of comfort can come from the simplest touch. I look up at him and catch him watching my movements.

“You ready for bed?” I ask.

When we’re in the bedroom, he walks straight to a chest of drawers and pulls out one of his black t-shirts and a pair of boxers, and hands them to me. His effort to be the perfect gentleman is endearing and unfortunately, has me praying he takes off the PG rating on our night.

“I’m going to get a glass of water, and give you time to change,” he says. As he walks out of the room, I walk into the bathroom and change out of my dress. Throwing the shirt over my head and slipping into his boxers, I roll the elastic waist up a few times to make them fit a bit better. Quickly walking out, I jump in the already unmade bed and try to look as natural as possible.

There’s a knock on the door, and it takes me zero point five seconds to realize Elliot isn’t going to come in until I tell him to.

“You can come in, now,” I call out. The door opens, and a reserved Elliot looks around the room, unsure as to where I’ll be. When he notices my head peeking up from the comforter, he smiles. He walks a few steps and dives onto the bed like a young kid. I hide my head under the cover, embarrassed by how wide my smile is. I feel him under the covers within seconds, his hands are quick to find me as he tickles my sides. We’re tangled in sheets and limbs and I'm forced to throw the covers off my head in need of air.

“Please stop,” I say in between gasps. His head finally pops up, as he crosses his arms over my stomach, he rests his chin on top. He looks happy and carefree. I want to take a picture of this exact moment where Elliot isn’t being the responsible one, worrying about everything and everyone.

“Thanks for staying,” he says. Unfolding his arms, he pushes himself up and crawls further up my body. He lowers his head and kisses me. With no warning and no hesitation, he shows me just how grateful he is. Using the strength in his arms to hold him up, I’m left without the full weight of his body on top of me, but desperately longing to feel it. I throw my arms around his neck and try to pull him down on top of me. He unlocks our lips.

“I said PG, don’t make it harder than it already is.”

I huff loudly and drop my arms dramatically. “Fine,” I say. “Let’s hurry up and go to sleep.”

He stretches his arm out, and I lay my head against his chest and hook my leg in between his.

There’s something about being in this room and in his company that’s always made the rest of the world feel so distant. Now that I’ve taken the first step to letting him in, not only do I feel secluded in the best possible way, but it’s the first time in a long time my heart feels safe.

While I draw circles on his chest, he’s running his fingers through my hair. We’re both alone in our thoughts, but the rise and fall of his chest secures our connection. This is something I could get used to.

Tilting my head up, Elliot looks down at me at the same time. I can’t resist the temptation and don’t want to spend a second longer without his lips on mine. I close the distance and bask in the tingle of the first touch. Resistance is futile as he presses on the small of my back, urging me on top of him. Our lips dance differently every time, it’s a different rhythm for every emotion, the sound of our hearts beating is like background music. With each stroke and our bodies almost melding together, I feel the change. I feel the dark cloud slowly lifting and the sun giving way to a new day. Maybe. Just maybe, I can have happiness.

* * *

I’m wide awake, staring at Elliot while he sleeps, wishing for the minutes ticking by to slow down. Last night we kissed until our lips were raw and our lungs ran out of air. Until our bodies begged for more, but our minds won out. We fell asleep by force, and I know with every layer I shed, the more serious this becomes.

I see the red numbers flashing on the alarm clock on his nightstand, and I know I have to go home. I’m torn between saying goodbye and letting him sleep. Each option only making the situation harder. I get up out of bed and look around the room for something I can write on. When I don’t find anything, I head to the living room to get a pen and paper out of my bag. I scribble down a little message, letting him know this is by no means a walk of shame type of scenario. I just have things I can’t get out of.

Taking it with me back into the room, I leave it on my pillow so it’s the first thing he sees, and take my clothes into the bathroom to change. I wash my face and notice a bottle of mouthwash and a glass off to the side. Grateful that I can get rid of this morning breath, I quickly make myself look semi-decent for the trek back home.

As I step into the room, my eyes immediately look for Elliot’s gracefully sleeping body, only to find him awake and holding the note I left him, in his hand.

“I see you got my message,” I say, interrupting his reading. His head peeks out to the side, and a lazy smile appears on his face.

“Morning.”  

“Hey.” I stand back reserved, talking myself out of jumping back into the bed and lying in his arms for the rest of the day.

“You got to go?”

“Yeah, I’ve got some things going, that I can’t get out of. And an assignment due this week I need to finish.” I throw that excuse on the end just to throw him off the truth about why I have to go home. Now that he knows about the online course, it will be my cover up until I’m ready to tell him about Mom.

“You know you’re always welcome to bring your laptop here and do work?” He peels the blanket off his body and lets his legs swing over the side of the bed.

“Wouldn’t you get bored while I’m busy?” I ask. He gets up off the bed and strides toward me. Holding my wrists he tilts his head up and places a soft kiss on my forehead.

“I’ll sit in silence with you, if it means we get to be next to each other.”

His honesty leaves me speechless.

“Now, let me quickly put some clothes on and get you home.” He turns to go to the bathroom, and I hold onto his bicep.

“Elliot, no.”

“What?” he says perplexed, his eyes flicking from our hands to my distressed face.

“You don’t have to take me home every time we’re together.”

“But, I want to.”

“I know. I do. I just… I promise I don’t want to come across sounding like an ungrateful bitch, but I would feel a whole lot less guilty if you didn’t. It really won’t take me any time at all.”

“Okay,” he says reluctantly. “Let me walk you downstairs at least?”

I sigh in relief, grateful it didn’t turn out to be an unnecessary argument. “That sounds perfect.”

No longer strutting around shirtless, Elliot has a shirt on and a mug of coffee in his hands. He offered me some, but I didn’t want to have to delay the inevitable. We’re on the curb saying goodbye, while I wait for my ride.

“I’ll see you soon?” he asks, and I hear the worry in his voice. The uncertainty at whether the progress we made last night will last. With my back to the street, I cup his cheeks and kiss him energetically.

“Yes.” I go in for another kiss, knowing time is closing in on us. I take advantage of his hands being occupied, the kiss being solely controlled by me. “Sooner rather than later, I promise.”

A loud horn breaks up the moment. I step back, and his facial expression tells me everything; he’s finally trusting me. He winks and I wave goodbye, sitting in the back seat, we stare at each other earnestly till the taxi pulls away. Sometimes the silence says everything.

Unlocking the door, I leisurely lug my body into the house, the content feeling following me the whole way. Throwing my keys on the table, I look around and take inventory.

“You’re home,” I hear my mom say. I turn around and she’s dressed in something other than her cotton nightgown.

“Going somewhere?” I ask.

“Yes. I want to go to the store and buy some groceries for Renee and Peter.”

And just like a pin to a balloon, I deflate quickly. I let my head fall, my chin to my chest. With my eyes closed, I slowly count to ten. You had a good night Court, don’t be selfish.

Looking back at Mom, I know I can’t leave her alone in this state; it’s lucky I came home.

“Let me change and I’ll come with you,” I say. Her face lights up, exactly like it used to when we did this, years ago.

“That would be lovely dear, you know Renee loves it when we visit.”