When I took ahold of him, he hissed out a breath. “No,” he said. He bent, bracing my arms and pulled me up to stand. “What are you doing?” he said.
My face flushed. I was heated but embarrassed. “I thought . . .”
“No, let’s kiss.” His lips were on mine again, urgent. He somehow managed to undo my bra without me even knowing he was trying. It fell to the floor as he cupped my breast. He bent, kissing it while running his hand up the small of my back. I arched into him. Seth was in charge, smooth, strong, and commanding, the way he played baseball. He laid me on the bed and then stood up straight, drinking me in. When he reached for my panties I covered his hands with mine. “Wait.”
“What is it, Charlotte?” His eyes were drowsy with desire.
“Do you really like me?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t be here with you right now if I didn’t.”
He crawled up beside me, propping his head on his hand. I looked down and noticed how painfully turned on he was. “Just give me a second,” I said, my chest heaving in and out.
“You were about to go down on me without even hesitating.”
“I know.”
His fingertips danced across my belly before his hand went sliding down under the waistband of my panties. He dropped his head to my breast, kissing and sucking at my nipple.
After several moments, he whispered, “I’m going to worship you now. Tell me to stop if you want me to stop.”
“Ahhh,” I breathed out when he touched me down below. I held his hand to me, pressing and guiding.
“Don’t,” I whispered.
“Don’t what, Charlotte?”
“Don’t stop.”
A second later my panties were gone and then his mouth was on me and my back was arching off the bed. “Jesus. Don’t stop. Don’t stop!”
When I pressed his head to my body, he hummed in satisfaction, making my body explode into a million tiny pulses of light. I couldn’t make a sound, couldn’t breathe; I was falling apart, trying desperately to ride out the waves without screaming. I felt the back of my head digging into the bed while my body quaked and shuddered.
When my brain was able to register my surroundings again, I looked up to see Seth between my legs, sitting back on his heels, looking mesmerized. I was embarrassed, but all I could see on his face was desire. “That was good, right?”
“Yes,” I choked out.
“You’re stunning,” he said. I shook my head. His hand was still on me, moving in slow circles across my sensitive skin. “You are, Charlotte. Why don’t you know that?” He blinked. “I want to make love to you.”
Warmth spread from my chest to my limbs. My throat tightened. I moved his hand from my body and pulled him up to cover me while I opened my legs wider, inviting him in.
Once we were joined, his mouth was on mine and he was moving gently in and out. He sucked on my bottom lip and then moved to my neck and up to my ear. “God, Charlotte, you feel so good. Too good.” He picked up the rhythm.
“Ah” was all I could say. His breath near my ear was making my brain malfunction. I was losing it again, feeling my body tingling around his. He thrust into me once more and then collapsed. I held him to me until our bodies stopped pulsing.
He put his weight on his elbows and leaned back to look at me. There was just enough light in the room to see his serene expression. “That was amazing.”
“Yes,” I said with conviction between gasps. “Very good.”
He pecked me on the lips and then kissed my cheek and lifted himself off me. “Shower?”
“Okay.” I followed him into the bathroom, neither one of us self-conscious of our nakedness. I admired how well built he was. How young, virile, and enthusiastic he was once I realized he was turned on again just moments after we were done having sex.
In the shower, he lifted me, pressing me against the cold tile. I wrapped my legs around him and he was inside of me again. “I want to stay here inside of you for a long time.”
“I want you to stay there for a long time.”
He moved harder, pressing me against the wall. “I really like you, Charlotte. I’m falling for you,” he said through ragged breaths. How could he be so open, so honest?
I kissed him, answering his passion without words.
After the shower, we fell asleep naked on top of the covers, tangled up in each other.
16. Good or Bad Timing
Seth was leaving to go on the road in two days. I invited him to come up and stay at my house before he left, and he agreed. I was letting it all happen.
When Seth and I got to my apartment, I was surprised to find Chucky sitting at the bar, eating cereal and reading the newspaper.
“No hot date?” I said, walking through the door.
“Not tonight, Fatbutt.” When Chucky spotted Seth behind me, he stood up from the barstool and quickly swallowed a mouthful of cereal.
Seth immediately approached him, hand out for a shake. “Hey, I’m Seth.”
Chucky gave him a firm handshake in return. “Nice to meet you. I’m Charles.” He pulled Seth toward him and then whispered loud enough for me to hear, “We have mafia ties. Don’t forget it, man.”
“Oh shut it, Chuck,” I snapped.
He shrugged and went back to his cereal. Seth followed me into the kitchen. “You want a beer or something?” I asked.
“Sure,” he said. Seth stood awkwardly next to Chucky on the other side of the bar while Chucky flipped through the newspaper. My brother and father read the newspaper every single day. It was like brushing their teeth—and for Chucky and my dad, that’s saying a lot. When I handed the beer over the counter to Seth, he smiled his sweet, boyish smile and said, “Thank you.” But something caught my eye as I reached across the counter. It was the voicemail notification on my phone.
“Will you excuse me?” I said to Seth.
“Sure.” He looked at me peculiarly as I grabbed my phone and headed for the bedroom. I overheard Seth and Chucky making small talk, so it was a relief that Seth at least had that distraction.
I hit the voicemail button and recognized Stacy’s voice immediately. “Hi, Charlotte. I talked to Adam. He wasn’t sure if it was okay to call you after all this time but he would love to hear from you. I also think you and I need to talk if you do decide to call him or see him. I’d rather not discuss it over voicemail, so if you’d like to call me back, I’ll be here for the rest of the night.”
I immediately dialed her number. “Hi, it’s Charlotte.”
“Charlotte, I’m so glad you called. Sorry about all the anticipation. I wanted to go and see Adam myself, and see what state of mind he was in.”
State of mind? He is crazy. “Okay . . . and?”
“He was actually in great spirits.” She paused for a few beats. “Charlotte, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but he wanted me to tell you that he’s in the hospital. Adam has a stage four glioblastoma.”
“Huh?”
“It’s a brain tumor. He has cancer, Charlotte.”
I dropped the phone. A guttural sound escaped me. I lost my breath, clutched my chest, and felt a sharp pain radiate through my lungs. The wind had been knocked out of me by one sentence.
It all made sense. Quitting his job. The parking tickets. The Post-it notes. His odd behavior, which had seemed like spontaneity in the moment.
When I met Adam, he was already dying. And he knew it.
I finally gathered the strength to pick up the phone and lift it to my ear. “I’m sorry, I dropped the phone.”
“I know it’s a lot to take in right now. You left quite an impact on Adam. At the time you two met, part of the tumor was pressing on his brain so much that it was affecting his short-term memory. He couldn’t remember what day of the week it was, or who he had met five minutes before. He painted a lot of women during that time but remembered none of them but you. He tried to find you. He painted the name Charlotte over and over. He wanted to tell you that, for a little while, he believed the story you two had made up. I don’t know what that means, but I guess that will mean something to you.”