“No, we’ll share the bed,” I announce proudly, waving a hand over my creation.
His face turns ashen. It’s so not the response I was expecting. “Share the bed? Together?” Now he looks outright terrified. “Like this tiny bed?”
“C’mon!” I roll my eyes. “I don’t have cooties.”
“That’s not it—” He cuts himself off before he has the chance declare how sorry he feels for me, apparently. “I mean, after everything—” He sighs deeply. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea, Alicia. I’m really not sure. I don’t want to trigger something.”
I sigh. “You won’t. I’m offering.”
I’m done with this latent argument, so I climb into the bed and place my bottle of water by my side. “I hope you don’t snore.”
“I don’t.” His reply is robotic.
Once I’m good and cozy, I lift my upper body and lean on my elbows. “What are you waiting for? Ghost is about to take your place.” At the mention of his name, the dog lets out a lazy half bark and leans his chin on his paws.
Mark is still frozen by the entrance. After a moment, he finally blinks and turns to the door to secure it. I scoot over to the side, freeing space for his enormous frame. I hear him shuffling around with his jacket and shoes, and the bed dips. “Will it hold us both?”
“It said six hundred pounds. I don’t think you weigh more than two thirty.”
“Two sixty,” he says and presses his open palm to the mattress, testing it. “Alicia, are you sure about that?”
In response, I pat the bed and scoot over a tiny bit more.
“All right. Wake me up if you feel uncomfortable,” he says with a yawn.
“Will do,” I say, swallowing a knot of nerves.
I will be fine. I will be fine.
There’s a dip in the bed as he stretches his body. His weight is much more than mine, so I accidentally half roll onto him.
“Sorry,” I mumble, trying to move back, but the dip is too big, and every time, I end up rolling back. He sighs and scoots closer to the middle, and I still end up half rolling, but this time I’m more stable with my own body.
Lying on his back, he brings his hands under his head, and my right side ends up pressed to him.
“Is this all right?” he asks in a gruff voice.
“Mhmm.” My answer is barely coherent because I’m experiencing so many thoughts, feelings, and sensations at once.
I haven’t touched a man in more than eight years. Like a full body touch, I mean. Other than my brothers and my father. I couldn’t even stand when someone touched me passing by at the grocery store. I’m not talking about a hug or a handshake; I mean any sort of contact.
I remember the way my body tingled when my fingers accidentally brushed his skin when I was helping him in the bathroom. It was just a tip-of-the-finger contact, but I was shocked. And now, my whole side is pressed to this living, breathing man. His body radiates heat, warming my frozen bones. We’re both wearing long-sleeve sweaters and pants, but I still feel the warmth from him. It’s warming something besides my frozen bones. It goes deeper.
Melting icebergs of forgotten emotions and sensations. Of feelings I dreaded.
But now, I’m not scared, no. Now, I’maware. Aware of someone being next to me. No, not someone. Mark. When I feel safe, the person who makes me feel that way always has a name, always. Even if I’m not prepared, my body is ready to come out of its slumber.
Fuck. I want it to be Mark. I so want it to be. But a man like him would never waste his time waiting for damaged goods like me. No one—myself included—knows how long it will take for me to be fully ready for something physical. What can I promise him? Nothing. I can’t promise anything to anyone.
Mark oozes sex through his pores, filling the little tent with palpable testosterone. I can tell he’s a sexual being and probably needs a lot of sex. He doesn’t need just kisses on the cheek from time to time. Who am I kidding? I can’t even offer that.
My body must have moved backward on its own accord, because a big arm sneaks under my neck and settles against my shoulders, snuggling me closer.
I freeze.
He does too.
“Shit, sorry. I didn’t think.” His voice is full of melancholy, and his body goes tense. “Shit, Alicia, sorry.” He tries to pull his arm away, but my hand shoots up on its own accord and grabs his, holding it in place.
