Chapter Fifteen: Romy
When I wake up, it’s still dark. Caleb’s arm is around my waist, and his head is against my shoulder. He’s draped a blanket over me. I turn my head and place the lightest kiss on his forehead, then get up because I desperately need to pee. While I’m in his bathroom, I finger-brush my teeth with his toothpaste and gargle with some of his Listerine, wishing I was one of those people who carried a toothbrush around in my purse. Then I check my phone, see it’s only five, and tiptoe back down the hall, past the closed door of the bedroom that must belong to his now former roommate. I have to wonder what happened between them, but I’m not going to snoop. I know there’s stuff Caleb hasn’t been able to say yet, but I trust him to tell me when he can.
I could leave. I’m up, and it’s nearly dawn. But being with him right now feels like the most important thing in the world. It’s not logical or rational, but as I crawl under the blanket, I don’t care. Especially when he reaches for me without even opening his eyes, like he trusts me to be there, like he needs it. His nose grazes my cheek and his breath tickles my neck. I stroke his hair, and he sighs. I have to wonder how much tenderness he’s had in his life. I want to fill him up with it, soothe all the broken, aching places in his heart.
I turn to him, tracing his features in the darkness. What does it mean, to connect with someone like this? Should I trust it? Is it safe? And even if it isn’t … could it be worth the risk?
As my body shifts beneath his arm, Caleb presses his hand to the small of my back. I lift my chin and my lips touch his, and he murmurs my name and kisses me, first gently, then urgently, his tongue hot in my mouth. Suddenly, he tilts his hips and I feel his hard shaft against me. His hand slides down to my ass, then my thigh, and he pulls my leg on top of his. I gasp as he rolls on top of me and rocks his hips, setting off little explosions behind my closed eyelids. It’s nothing compared to what’s going on between my legs, though. All my nerves are firing at once. My fingers curl into claws over the tense muscles of his back. Do that again, I think. I want to feel that again. My heels slide along the sheets as I open my legs wider. It’s crazy, I know, but then he rocks against me again and “Oh.”
He goes still at my moan. “Oh God,” he murmurs, scooting off me quickly. “Romy, I’m so sorry.”
“You were asleep, weren’t you?” I say with a hoarse laugh. Of course he was. But now I’m completely awake, my nipples hard, the center of me throbbing.
“Yeah.” He curses. “I didn’t mean to …” He groans and covers his face with his hands. “My body was kind of on autopilot there for a second, but that’s no excuse.”
I rise on an elbow. “I actually didn’t mind.”
His hands fall away from his face. “You didn’t?”
My heart skips as I move into the curve of his arm. “It felt good,” I whisper.
“Don’t say stuff like that to me. It’s confusing.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want to fuck this up.” He blinks at the ceiling. “I so do not want to fuck this up.”
“Are you awake now?”
He chuckles. “Very much so.”
“Capable of making decisions?”
“As much as I ever am.”
I bow my head and kiss his neck, and he shudders. I’ve never done anything like this. I’ve always waited for a guy to make the first move. I’ve always been shy, always been more on the passive side. That night on Caleb’s supply table, that moment when I pressed my hand over his and showed him what I wanted—that was the first time I’ve ever done that. But here I am again. “I’m going to be very honest with you.”
“Okay,” he says, sounding nervous.
“I don’t want to play games. And I don’t know what’s going on with you.”
“Yeah.” Now he sounds resigned.
I lay my palm over his heart, like I did last night. It’s like my Caleb emotion-detector. Last night, when I mentioned the charity auction, his heart nearly exploded out of his chest. It was beating like he was running for his life. I’m not sure he was even aware of how afraid he was. And he certainly couldn’t tell me. So I need this signal from him as I say, “Do you want me, Caleb? Because … I want you.”
He puts his hand over mine as his heart thunders under my palm. Before I can ask him what’s going through his mind, he guides my face to his. Our lips part; our tongues meet. We both moan. It’s chemical and instinctual and overwhelming. My hand skims down to the ridge of his hipbone as our kiss deepens. Sometime last night, he changed into sweats, and the jut of his erection bumps against my wrist. My fingers close gently around it, and he makes this broken, sexy sound. I start to pull away, but he grabs my hand and puts it right back where it was. Feeling triumphant, I start to explore him, slipping my hand under his waistband.
He feels so silky and hot, rigid and soft at the same time. I run my thumb over the tip of him, biting my lip as my body tingles with need. I want this. I want him inside me. Should I push it that far? Would it be good for either of us? I should worry about it, but my mind is a fog as he works his hands underneath my t-shirt. His fingers deftly undo the clasp of my bra, and a moment later I’m half naked. His stubbly chin scrapes at me when he bows his head and takes one of my breasts in his mouth, circling my nipple with his tongue and capturing it between his teeth. I arch, tilting my head back, my hips rising automatically, craving his weight, craving him.
I nearly rip his t-shirt as I pull it over his head. My skirt is hiked up to my thighs, and I’m squirming, dying for him to touch me like he did before. Instead, he kisses me beneath my collarbone. The sun is starting to rise, and a few weak beams of light pierce his plain brown curtains, so I see the hesitation flicker across his face as he says, “I have protection. I mean, I don’t want to assume, but—”
“You can assume,” I murmur. I’m on the Pill, but it doesn’t feel necessary to open that conversation now.
He kisses my chest again, his lips lingering over my heart. “I’ll be right back.” He pushes off the bed and leaves the bedroom, returning a moment later with a small box of condoms. He pulls one out and tosses the box on his desk. He stares down at the little package in the palm of his hand, and I take a moment to stare at the lean definition of his muscles in the orange glow of early dawn. Then he sits down on the bed and chucks the condom at me. The little foil square lands next to my arm. “Normally, I don’t think much about what’s going to happen after I’m with someone,” he says to me. “I don’t worry about it at all.” He looks me right in the eye. “Because I usually don’t care.”
My heart races. “Okay.” I glance at the package and wonder if I can handle that, because I’ve just realized that Jude was right. There’s no such thing as no-strings-attached, not for me. Not with Caleb.
“No, look at me, Romy. I-I’m trying to say something,” Caleb says as our eyes meet again. “I’m trying to tell you that I do care. About you, I mean. About this.”
I sit up, the cool air in the room chilling my bare skin. I think I understand what he’s saying. “Me, too.” He closes his eyes, like that was what he needed to hear, and it hurts. So badly. He’s used to being used, and it makes me ache for him. “You matter to me, Caleb,” I say. “We can do this or not, but you matter more to me every moment I spend with you, and this is not meaningless, even if I don’t know exactly what it means yet.”
He chuckles and crawls his way up the bed. “Maybe I could draw you a picture.”
I pull him to me, and our foreheads touch. “Or maybe we could feel our way through it together.”
His hand cups the back of my head, and he flutters little kisses along my cheek, down my neck, over my breasts. He takes his time driving me crazy, using his fingers and his tongue, his teeth, his breath, so that when he says, “Take off your skirt,” I obey immediately, pushing it over my hips and knees and kicking it away—along with my underwear. He looks me over. “Goddamn,” he whispers.
“Take off your pants,” I say. Because fair is fair. I watch him slide those sweats down, revealing his body inch by inch. Claudia, as it turns out, was right. Caleb looks incredible without his clothes. I run my hand up the long muscles of his thigh, along his erection, which jerks as I touch it. Caleb grabs my hips and moves onto his back, pulling me on top of him. “I want you to be in control of this,” he says quietly.
Control. That’s what I want, right? I reach for the condom and tear the package open, then slowly roll it down his rigid column of flesh. I lean forward to set the wrapper on his desk, and then I look down at his face. One corner of his mouth quirks up. “Hi,” he says.
I settle my hips over his, so slick with desire that I slide along the top of him, soft giving way over hard. Caleb lets out a shaky breath and skims his hands up my thighs.
“Hi,” I say, unable to believe I’m doing this. “I don’t know if I’ve ever been in control.”
Sadness flits across his features as he touches my face, tracing his fingers along my jaw. He draws me down and gives me the softest of kisses. “You’ll figure it out.”
I smile, trying to look more confident than I feel, and he brushes his thumb over my bottom lip. I’m falling for you so quickly, Caleb. I almost say it aloud, but instead I kiss him again, lingering, exploring his mouth. My nipples rub against his chest, sending spikes of pleasure to my core, especially when the thick tip of him nudges at my entrance. His hands are on my hips again, and when I nibble at his jaw, he pushes down a little and his thighs tense, but he catches himself before he penetrates me. It’s the most exhilarating thing. He’s much bigger than I am. His body is more powerful than mine. He could shove himself into me and let that be that. It’s happened before, so I almost expect it. But Caleb is keeping his word, and it is the most arousing sensation I’ve ever experienced.
I stare into his eyes as I reach between us, guiding him inside. Then I brace my palms on either side of his head and rock my hips down.
He slides into me, filling me up. Caleb’s eyes clamp shut and his lips part. I nip at the bony hollow where his chest meets his neck, and he laughs as my teeth scrape his skin. “I think you’re pretty good at this control thing so far,” he says in a strained voice.
I don’t answer him. I can’t. My body is stretched tight around his, stealing nearly all thoughts from my head. I slide up and down again, pushing him deeper as the pleasure crashes like the surf around me. He lets go of my hip and takes my hand, and our fingers lock together, and then he does the same thing with my other hand. It’s like I’m holding him down. Like he’s completely at my mercy. His surrender is utterly sexy. I close my eyes and rock harder against him, moaning at the friction and heat, chasing it higher. “Caleb … please …”
I don’t even know what I’m saying, and I have no idea how he knows what I mean, but he moves one of his hands from mine and reaches between us, stroking me in time with my own movements. For a moment, I feel so selfish, but when I look down at him, he’s watching the motion of my body, the place our flesh connects, with rapt concentration. Then he meets my eyes, and something molten flashes in his. His knees rise, and he sits up, cradling me in his lap. My lips crash onto his and my fingers tangle in his hair. Rough. Demanding. His hands move to my ass, and when his grasp turns steely, I practically cheer.
“Yes,” I say against his mouth, and then let out a cry as he pulls my body down abruptly, pushing himself so deep that I feel it against my spine, against my soul. He does it again and again, until my fingernails dig into his shoulders, until the tension is unbearable, until at last my entire self lets go. It’s indescribable, free of words and images, a deep, black well of ecstasy that swallows me whole. He holds me close while I come undone, his lips against my neck, whispering words that I can’t quite hear.
Caleb sinks backward as I spasm around him, his hands on my waist. “Please don’t stop,” he gasps. “Don’t stop now.”
Still dizzy and tingling, I ride him, letting him decide the rhythm now. I feel my way, translating the wordless requests in every shudder and moan, in every clutch of his fingers and flex of his hips, wanting to give him everything he needs and more. I put my hands over his, pressing them against my skin. Take whatever you want. It’s yours. He bucks, crashing our bodies together, sending aftershocks all the way to my toes. An unsteady groan comes from deep in his chest. His shaft throbs inside of me. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than Caleb, overwhelmed by his own pleasure.
Until he opens his eyes and smiles up at me. Adorable, sexy, addictive, hopeful. It takes me apart, breaks the gates of my heart wide open.
“Romy.”
That’s all he says, but somehow, it’s more than enough. He pulls me to his chest and covers my face with kisses. He wraps his arms around me so tightly that I can barely draw a breath, but I’m not sure I want to. I could die like this, right here, without a single regret.
We stay like that for the longest time, nurturing this fragile, peaceful, rapidly growing something we have together. I’m not sure what to call it, but as he bows his head into my hair, only one word occurs to me: miracle.
Caleb has a busy afternoon of private lessons. He walks me out to my car and hugs me fiercely. “Are you coming to the open painting time tonight?” he asks.
“Why, do you need a ride?” I’m trying to sound teasing, but I’m probably blushing as I say it.
He doesn’t see it, though. He’s fiddling with my fingers. “No, I mean, that’s not why I’m asking. I wanted to talk to you.” He meets my eyes briefly before looking away again. “I need to explain some things about my life.”
Suddenly, dread burbles up from the ground and nearly drowns me. “All right,” I say, trying my damnedest to sound casual. Calm. I kiss him and smile.
Then I get in my car and drive home. As awesome as last night was, and as … awesomer … as this morning was, I’m suddenly wondering if it was a mistake, and the thought is crushing. Somehow, Caleb and I had this chance, this brief window of time, of safety, this place just for us, this special thing that was only between us. In it we shed all the junk we carried with us, connecting with our barest, plainest selves. But we couldn’t stay there forever. Of course we couldn’t. Will our connection be as strong once we pick up all the baggage?
God, I hope so. Whatever he’s going to say, I want to react the right way. I don’t want to hurt him. And I don’t want him to hurt me. I drift through my afternoon class, reliving my moments in Caleb’s arms, wondering how something that felt so right could possibly be all wrong. Jude and I go out for an early dinner after the lecture. I get myself a cheese sandwich and sit at a corner table, picking at it as I stare out the window. Jude drops into the seat across from me, tossing a nutrition bar onto the table.
“This semester is really stressing you out,” I say to him, noticing how strained he looks.
“Can we switch internships?” he asks. “I’m starting to think you got the better deal.”
I snort. He was so afraid my placement at Sojourner House would shatter me. But though it’s emotionally draining and heartbreaking so far, I’m hanging in there. “Catherine again?”
He rubs at his eyes. “She didn’t even show up for her session yesterday, so I have no idea what’s going on with her.”
“Did you call her?” I ask, recalling the scars on the girl’s arms, how worried Jude was about her.
He nods. “I left a message. She texted back that she forgot, so I’m hoping she’s all right. I’m waiting for her to tell me if she wants to meet later this week. Some of the stuff she said to me in her last session really bothered me.”
In our group supervision meeting last week, Jude had talked through it. Catherine had told him that her brother was trying to control her access to mental health treatment. It made me sick, that this guy had tried to cut her off from help.
“She’s got to get away from him, Jude. I bet he has a temper.” I shudder. “I could talk to Justine about getting her a place at Sojourner. If she’s got nowhere else to go, they might be able to take her.”
He nods. “If she comes in this week, I might mention that to her. Dr. Greer is worried, too. He said I need to talk to her about why it’s so important for me to contact her psychiatrist, that I’ll be a better advocate for her if I can share information—especially since her brother goes to all her psychiatry appointments. She says she’s not allowed to speak for herself at all, but if she’d let me call the psychiatrist, I could talk to him, let him in on what’s happening.”
“Why is that guy controlling her like this?” It’s so freaking creepy. It makes me wonder what else is going on.
Jude looks ill. He glances at the nutrition bar and then shoves it in his shoulder bag. “She hasn’t told me yet, but I’m starting to put the pieces together.” He gives me a look. “We know she’s been traumatized. I’m guessing it’s sexual, though she denied that in our first meeting. But really, the odds are good. And she lives with this controlling guy who dogs her every move.”
“You think he’s …” I trail off, suddenly losing my own appetite.
“Dr. Greer said he’s seen it before.”
I cringe internally. “I hope she calls you soon.”
“Me, too.” He shifts restlessly in his seat. “Hey. Now you have to tell me what’s up with you.”
I chuckle. “Where do I start? I kind of went off the rails last night, and I’m still trying to find my way back.”
His eyes go wide. “Off the rails? What the hell did you do?”
Here we go. “I was with Caleb.”
“All night?”
I nod.
He arches an eyebrow. “And how was he?”
I bury my head in my hands. “I think I need a girl friend.”
“Honey, any self-respecting girl would ask the same question.” He taps on the back of my hand. “Hey, are you all right? This is your emotionally attuned, super-sensitive gay friend speaking.”
I catch his fingers with mine, laughing. “I have no idea if I’m all right. How do I look?”
“Like you had a fantastic time.” He gives me a sad smile. “Happier than I’ve seen you look in over a year.”
“I hope it lasts.”
“Are you afraid it won’t?”
“I don’t know, Jude. Caleb’s got a past. He looked like he’d been in a fight yesterday. He was too upset to tell me what was going on.”
Jude frowns. “And, wait. You slept with him?”
“Er.” His expression is the reality check I needed, I guess. But— “I’m having trouble regretting it,” I blurt. I want to do it again. And again and again.
“I can tell. And I understand, Romy. Maybe you needed it.”
“Maybe he needed it, too,” I murmur.
He rolls his eyes. “I don’t really care what he needed.”
“I’m going to the open painting time tonight. We’re going to talk afterward.”
Jude examines his nails. “I think I need some easel time. Especially since I missed class last night.”
We go to an art supply store and get silly in the aisles, and he lets me choose a few brushes for him. It’s empty, mindless, fun time, the best anxiety reliever in the world. By the time Jude pulls up to the co-op, I’m ready. Ready to have a few hours of painting, ready to talk to Caleb afterward, ready to hear whatever he has to say and be whatever he needs, ready to move forward. Hopefully … with him.
We’re joking about how Jude’s going to paint Eric a picture of a large, ripe banana to hang in his office when Jude halts abruptly on the sidewalk. “Catherine?” he says, pulling his arm from my shoulders.
I raise my head and see her coming up the street, dark circles under her eyes, her hair greasy and tangled. Jude approaches her quickly, tension in every stride. “Are you all right?” he asks.
Her face crumples as I hover a few steps behind him. I don’t know if she’ll recognize me, but either way, I don’t want to interfere.
“He locked me out,” she squeaks, covering her face with her hands. Her fingernails are caked with dirt. Or blood. I glance down at her sleeve and see the red smears. Jude sees them, too, and he looks over his shoulder at me, utterly freaked out. I nod at him, silently willing him to focus on her immediate needs.
“He locked you out?” Jude says softly. “When?”
“Yesterday.” Her shoulders shake.
“Where have you been?” he asks. She starts to cry, and Jude hesitantly touches her arm. “You’re bleeding, Catherine. Can I look?”
She nods, and he peels back her sleeve and goes pale. “I want to die,” she whispers.
“I’m going to make sure you’re safe,” says Jude, obviously trying to sound authoritative. “Can you tell me why you’re here?” He looks up the block, like he’s wondering if she lives in the immediate area.
“Katie?”
I turn to see Daniel jogging toward us, his eyes focused on Catherine. Jude looks over at him, obviously confused. “Katie, thank God,” Daniel says.
Jude and I lock eyes. “Katie?” he asks.
Daniel stutters to a stop, his eyes on the girl’s bloody sleeve. “Hang on,” he tells Catherine. “I’ll go get Caleb.”
“What?” says Jude.
“He’s her brother,” Daniel calls over his shoulder as he disappears into the co-op.
I stare after him as my hopeful reality morphs into a nightmare.