Page 113 of Lucas & Melissa Falling in Love
I turn and say, my voice overwhelmed by the day, “It’s not about the money, Dad. You know that, right? It’s that I always thought I was your number one priority.”
I shut my eyes and turn away because if he’s going to cry I don’t want to see it, can’t take it right now. And even though I can’t stay now, can’t stand another second of emotional battering, I know I can return another day, make repairs, fill in the cracks, so that things will work again, even if they’re never the same between us.
Lucas drives until we get to the first motel we see and he pulls in. We stay the night, but we don’t sleep. We make tender passionate love over and over until daylight, until yesterday’s turmoil is like a dream that never happened, lost in the fog of distance and separation.
Then we sleep.
* * *
When the dingycurtains can’t hide the bright sunlight of the day any longer, I squint my eyes open and become aware of Lucas’s warm body up against mine in a flood of lust and longing that swirls through me.
Later, after we’ve brushed our teeth and returned to bed and made love again, he nips my earlobe and says, “Don’t fall asleep again. You can sleep in the car on the way back to the city.”
“What will you do?”
“Drink coffee,” he says. I laugh.
Then, with a random unthinking lurch from my gut, I say, “Do you ever worry that we have nothing in common except sex?” I’m lucky he laughs because I’ve horrified myself with my unconsidered words.
“And here I thought you liked art and enjoyed my sculptures and fast cars.” He gets up from bed after kissing my shoulder and starts dressing.
“I do, but not the same way you do, not with the same passion that you do.” And I realize I don’t have the same passion about anything the way he does.
“I’m glad. We should complement each other, not be so similar that we have nothing to share, to add, or so that we compete. I want to be surprised by you, refreshed by you—the way I always am. I want to admire those things in you that make you special.”
“Like what?” I say. Then I realize I sound insecure, like I’m fishing for compliments. But I don’t back down, don’t blink and he smiles with maximum dimple.
“Like your irrepressible practical streak. It turns me on when you think about laundering the sheets after we’ve made mad passionate love for hours.”
“You mean it amuses you. Gives you something to tease me about.”
“That too.”
“So I’m your foil.”
“Nothing so simple as that, Melissa.” The honeyed way he says my name makes my nipples perk up in pleasure and I see his eyes go serious and glassy as he zips his pants. I think, but don’t say that he should unzip his pants. What I do say is far bolder.
“Maybe we should live together. I don’t care if my parents disapprove.” My skin warms to hot pink.
He chuckles. “We’re not teenagers, Melissa. Why would you seek your parents’ approval?” He sits on the edge of the motel bed.
“I wouldn’t. I’m just saying.”
“You want to defy your parents? Teach them a lesson? Is that why you want to move in with me?”
That stings, but I don’t see any remorse in his eyes.Don’t over-react, Melissa. Don’t make it worse.I can see where this conversation is going and I feel cornered, but I don’t panic. I can get out of it. I sit up and throw off my covers, looking into his beautiful passionate eyes.
“No, I want to move in with you because it feels right,” I say.
A nice illogical non-reason sounds convincing in this situation, or I’m hoping it’ll convince Lucas. Because the honest-to-God’s truth of the matter is that I’m suddenly desperate to live with him, to have him for my own, to have a commitment. And to sleep with him every single night. And I have no explanation for this sudden strong urge.
“And what makes it feel right? Tell me?” He’s says, going in for the kill now. I can see it in his eyes. He wants a confession of love and I . . . don’t know what I’m waiting for.
“All right. I’ll confess.” I pause to study him. He looks mildly curious, but I want to see excitement. This is a momentous occasion for me. I’ve never said this before. A zoo of birds and frogs and butterflies bop around in my belly and my chest, making me jumpy, giving rise to a lump of emotion. Great, now I can’t even talk and he’s waiting.
He reaches a hand up and I know he’s going to hold my chin captive in a caress. I reach up and stop him. This has to be all me, all my own free will, I decide and I step back.
“Give me a chance. I’ve never made . . . this kind of declaration before.”
