“Well, that’s not what happened, but yeah, whatever you call it was normal. Adults do it all the time. It’s called passion.” I run a hand through my hair, wishing I grabbed my hat from the tent. It would be better if I could just reach out and tug her to my body. The moment the thought crosses my mind, I’m instantly warm.
“That’s not normal for me. I don’t do that.” Her face turns grim, and I’m not quite sure if she’s slut-shaming herself or what, but regardless, I don’t like where it’s going.
“Alicia.” I sigh and palm my face with my hand. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” She looks at me, confusion written on her face.
“For acting the way I did.” I feel shame for being unable to control my urges, especially around her.
She grabs my forearm, nearly knocking the mug out of my hands, and squeezes it with all her might. “Don’t apologize for—” she stops, looking for the right words, “the intimacy. It’s something I forgot but very much needed. It’s me who needs to apologize for putting you in this awkward position.” She looks down at her hands again, kicking a small twig in the snow. “You know, for asking you to kiss me and all that.”
“It was anything but awkward.” I cackle. “In fact, I was very much comfortable.”
A smile spreads across her face. It’s shy but confident. Somehow, she looks different than yesterday.Feelsdifferent too. I want to ask so many questions about the disturbing information I found out yesterday, but I keep my mouth shut, trying not to destroy this quiet peace by saying something I might regret. We stay sitting on this fallen log in comfortable silence for ages, watching as the snow slowly falls around us. The morning hours are chilly, but with a steaming cup of this brown mud and her presence, it doesn’t seem so cold anymore.
I don’t want to ask the wrong questions, but I want to hear her voice, so I suddenly find myself sharing pieces of information I’ve never shared with anyone.
“I grew up with an abusive father.”
Alicia’s face whips toward me as she draws in a loud breath.
“He was an asshole, you know. Always trying to get a rise out of me by nagging at my little sister.”
“You have a sister?”
“I do.” I nod. “She’s in college in California.”
“How old is she?” she asks, gripping her own cup so tight, her knuckles turn white. I want to touch her hand so she’ll relax, but I’m scared to feel her skin on mine now. I don’t want to break down in front of this woman. She unravels me with every breath she takes, and I’ve known her for only a few weeks. I’d think it’s desire and blue balls talking, but it’s not. It’s something more.
And it scares me.
“Twenty. My mother left us when I was probably about five and came back for a short time, had my sister, and disappeared again.”
Her eyes turn sad andunderstanding, so I look away and keep talking. “So yeah, our house wasn’t full of love and laughter, so I don’t know how to do this… thing.”
“This thing?” Her forehead wrinkles.
“Yeah, this thing.” I circle the space between us. “Whatever it is. Whatever is happening, I can’t be the only one who feels it, right?” My voice is shamefully hopeful.
She lifts her eyes toward mine. “No, you are not.”
I let out an embarrassing sigh of relief. “Don’t expect too much from me, Alicia.” I swallow roughly. “Because I just can’t give it.”
“I didn’t expect anything, Mark,” she whispers back. “The kiss idea came on a whim.”
“And it was the best fucking kiss I’ve ever had.” And that’s the honest truth. She doesn’t need to be ashamed of her own desires.
She snorts loudly through her nose and instantly covers her mouth with her hands, her eyes widening in embarrassment. “Sorry!”
“Don’t be. It was cute.” I chuckle. Everything she does is cute.
She pulls her knees together. “I’ve been out of practice for a long time.”
“Could have fooled me.”
Her face brightens with a smile, and she stares at the fire. “Where is your father now?”
“Where I left him.” My voice is firm, and she raises a questioning brow. “He’s alive. I just don’t care about him anymore.”
