December in Paris 1

The tension in his shoulders faded for the most part. When he spoke again, his voice had regained its melodious beauty.

“Are you seeing anyone?”

The question didn’t come as much of a shock after the first one. I shook my head.

He reached across the table and took my hands in his.

“Good. One less complication.”

Speaking of complications…

“Are you seeing anyone?” I asked, with a quiver in my voice.

A dark grimace fleeted over his lips. There was a touch of pain in his voice when he answered.

“No. I tried. After you left, I really tried.”

“What happened?”

He let out a short hollow laugh. “Nothing. When you left, it hurt worse than the divorce. I couldn’t feel anything for anyone new. I didn’t even miss Mia anymore.”

When I left… I hadn’t left. I had run away, without expecting it to mean anything to him.

“You’re scaring me. What’s going on?”

He looked into my eyes.

“I’m in love with you. I knew it since that Christmas in Aspen when I wanted to run after the car that took you away from me. After that weekend we spent together…”

His voice trailed off, and I wondered if it was possible that he felt the same. What if these past years we spent apart had been a hell of our own making?

“You never said a damn thing,” I burst out. “If I hadn’t nearly burned down the house, we wouldn’t have seen each other.”

He was watching our linked hands. His shoulders sag a fraction.

“It’s true.”

I wasn’t used to being the one asking the questions. Thanks to my lawyer-heavy environment, I was used to being asked questions. But I needed to understand.

“Why?”

“I thought it would be the best for you. I do so many shitty things in my work, I wanted to do something right for once in my life. To let you outgrow your crush even if it killed me.”

My crush. I wanted to squeeze his hands hard enough to crush them. Maybe then he wouldn’t throw around the word crush as if it was nothing. After the hours spent sculpting, my hands were probably pretty strong, even if his were so much larger than mine.

“Then why are you here?”

He was the one to increase the pressure to the point of pain. My hands seemed so small and powerless inside his.

“Because I can’t take it anymore. I want to be with you. No more waiting for fate to get us together. No more hiding.”

I drew in a sharp breath. I wanted everything he said but the idea of my parents and Nora knowing about us scared me.

“If all you want from me is sex, you will have that,” he said. “We can keep it secret for as long as you want. Just know that I want more.”

There was one way to get rid of my anxiety.

“Can we continue this conversation at my place?”

I wanted to see him in my tiny studio. Our lives were so different. Could they really fit together? I could start that assessment in my narrow bed.

“Absolutely,” he said. “Should we call a taxi?”

A twinkle in his voice told me his mind had wandered to my bed as well.

“The subway is close. You can slum it for one day.”

The smile lighting up his face made it in my all-time top 10 favorite smiles.

“It’s not slumming it if we’re together.”

My heart fluttered. He was opening himself to me. It was beautiful and scary.

“I didn’t know you could be so sappy,” I said, trying to cover up the surge of emotion.

“Well, you have to take the bad with the good.”

“If that’s the bad, bring it on,” I said, feeling the blush creep up into my cheeks.

A few minutes later, we were on the crowded subway platform, waiting for the train that would take us to my place. I caught him looking fondly at me, and I couldn’t help myself. I stood up on tiptoes, wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my lips on his. I closed my eyes and ignored everyone around us. My cheeks went up in flames, but I didn’t let go. Fred’s arm wound around my waist and he deepened the kiss. We stopped only when we heard the sound of the incoming train.

#

Our clothes started flying as soon as we closed the door.

“I don’t have any condoms,” I said, unable to take my hands off him.

“About that…” he said between kisses while he kept undressing me. “If it’s ok with you, I don’t think we need them. I’m clean. All my tests are spotless and I haven’t had unprotected sex in about six years.”

That was a big leap. The scorching desire burning brightly inside me confirmed that it was a leap I wanted to take.

“I never had unprotected sex,” I whispered hotly against his skin.

I was about to add that I wasn’t on the pill when he spoke.

“Technically, that’s not true.”

I pulled my head back to look at him, scrunching my eyebrows. It was true. And even if it wasn’t, he had no way of knowing.

“You had unprotected sex once.” His eyes were glazed with desire. He didn’t seem to be joking. He tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “With me.”

I opened my mouth to argue. An inconsistent memory stopped me. During that crazy Valentine’s weekend, there had been something strange. We were asleep in each other’s arms, completely naked. Sometime in the night, we had come together. The sensation had been so perfect, I had talked myself into believing it had been a dream.

“At first I thought I was dreaming,” he said in a faraway voice. “I realized at some point that it was real, but it felt so good… I kept postponing, trying to hold back… I wasn’t in time to pull out.” He gathered me in a hard embrace. “If you got pregnant, I wouldn’t have let you go. I left it to chance, and chance didn’t favor me.”