Soft on the Lips, Rough on the Heart

I smiled and bit my lip; I just loved when things worked out like they were supposed to. I sat back, wondering when I turned into a walking cliché.

“Oh beautiful, amazing, genius aunt of mine,” I said in a sing-song voice.

Her laughter filled the room and I placed my hands on her shoulders. I massaged them lightly.

“Would it be possible for me to spend the night with Jacob?” I asked in the sweetest tone I had.

“Why?” Well, that’s not immediate rejection.

“His little sister’s having a slumber party. I’ve been called in as reinforcement,” and so the lies return.

I could feel her sigh beneath my hands. And I pulled away so she could turn and look at me. I laced my fingers and dropped to my knees. She didn’t say anything, but she nodded. I did a little dance and whipped out my cell.

I stood outside of Spencer’s door for ten minutes. I rocked back and forth from my heels to the balls of my feet. I had almost walked away four or five times, and I had re-braided my hair way more than that. Finally I knocked, and didn’t even have to wait ten seconds before he opened it.

The sight was strangely familiar; sleeves rolled up, spoon in hand, and the smell of lasagna filled his apartment. My palms got a bit clammy and my stomach dropped.

“Should I be worried at how much this reminds me of the last time we were here?” I asked, laughing a little to cover up my shaky voice.

He laid another layer in his casserole dish before looking at me. “I’m really sorry about that. I just want another chance,” he said with complete sincerity.

I nodded and hopped onto a bar stool. I would not stand right next to him like a lost puppy this time. And when he was finished, we had time to kill. Time I would not kill acting like a kid. So I made him talk to me, I asked him about all the things he’d ever wanted to do. I asked what his favorite color was. I asked about his first kiss. And I was just about to ask who the girl was when the timer on his oven went off.

“Saved by the bell,” I thought, and laid my head on my arm.

“Godere,” he said and I raised a tentative eye brow at the food on my fork.

“You said we were having lasagna,” I said and almost had my fork set on the plate when he smiled.

“That is Italian for enjoy.”

I nodded dumbly and took a hesitant bite. I had a foodgasm, and I actually let out an audible moan.

“So good,” I said with a mouthful of food to cover my blush.

Reid cleaned up while I sat on his couch. I was thumbing through his DVD collection when he joined me once again. I put the case between us on the couch; one whole cushion.

I tried to savor this like a fine wine. That whole, time only makes the heart grow fonder crap seemed to be working. I studied each movie slowly. Asking about the ones I’d never heard of or just wasn’t sure of. Every time I leaned forward, my v-neck dipped down more. I could feel his stare, and I would only briefly hold it; smiling when I did. As the minutes ticked away he grew more forceful; hungrier.

I was actually quite surprised as he pushed my shoulders back. I opened my mouth to speak and his lips were pressed on mine, though not quite as forceful as his hands had been. Hips were softer than I remembered, and as much as I was trying to fight him, I wanted this. I wanted this a lot. I did gain enough concentration to sit up and push him off me.

“Stop,” I said, taking a deep breath. Focus, I told myself, focus. “We’re going to do this my way; the slow way, Capiche?”

He nodded, looking like a puppy I just kicked in the stomach.

“Now,” I said with a smile.

I pushed the DVD case to the floor; he had kneeled on them in a rush, probably breaking a
few. I grabbed his hand and pulled him closer so I could toss my legs over his lap. I laid my head on his chest.

“Slow,” I heard him whisper. He was dragging a nail up my back causing me to shiver. “Did you know that during thirty minutes of sex you can burn about 200 calories?”

I smacked his chest with my free hand. “Did you just call me fat?”

His eyes widened with fear. “That’s not what I meant at all. No Emily, no,” he stuttered.

I laced my fingers with his. “Relax, I was just kidding.”

I placed a light kiss on his lips. When I pulled back his eyes were shifting back and forth.

“What?” I asked when he didn’t stop.

“Your eyes have flecks of gray in them,” he said. I released his hand and grabbed his neck.

He could be raping me but he was noticing things about my eyes? No more, I couldn’t wait anymore. I pulled our heads together. My nose knocked against his and I pulled back. I pouted. That wasn’t supposed to happen.

He kissed the tip of my nose and the corners of my mouth. I smashed our lips together. He lightly bit down on my bottom lip. I opened my eyes momentarily. He had been practicing. I made a mental sticky note to ask him about that and got back to wrapping my arms around his neck. His hands cradled me close as he picked me up.

We sat on his bed in the same position. His hands didn’t move from my lower back. I pulled away slowly breaking our kiss.

“How long do we have?” he asked and I pressed my forehead to his.

“All night,” I said with a breathy voice. “One step at a time, right?” I made a cross with my arms and pulled my tee over my head.

He nodded, concentrating on my eyes and fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. I reached forward to help him. He slid out of the dress shirt and I laughed. He was just as pale as I was. I traced his collar bone, on both sides, with just one finger. I ran my whole hands down his upper arms. When he shuddered, I grinned.

I watched him do the same to me, tracing with just a few fingers my collar bones; then from the hollow point of my neck down the line of my cleavage. Spencer grabbed one of my bra straps and toyed with it, rolling it between his fingers. His bony fingers traced down the side of my breast and down my side. Goose bumps raised along my skin. His hand trailed along my stomach, and laid me down.

“Cold?” he asked in a teasing voice as he turned off the light and walked back to me in the dark.

He braised himself on his elbows and pulled the covers up around us. Reid settled his body onto mine in slow movements.

“I’m not going to break. You weigh the same as an African child,” I smirked in the dark.

His warm hand swept my bangs from my forehead.

“Not tonight,” he said in a firm voice and I knew what he was talking about.

“Definitely not tonight,” I replied and he eased to my side.

Being in that position had proved too tempting for the young doctor. I laughed when I thought of my jean shorts still being on, and his khaki slacks right next to me. I curled into this chest, wedged a leg between his thighs and closed my eyes.

I slept for a few hours before waking up. I wiggled off my shorts and returned to my position. I smiled to myself when I felt that Reid’s pants had already been shed.

“You talk in your sleep,” he mumbled against my hair.

I blushed, though I knew it already. “What did I say?”

He sat up a little, readjusted and laid back down. “Nothing really coherent, you did cry a little bit though. I wasn’t sure what to do.”

I closed my eyes. I had been dreaming about my parents; about a picnic we had when I was ten. It was such an insignificant detail, but I had felt it. I had smelled it. I had heard it.

I recapped the dream to him, with my eyes still closed. I wanted to be back on that small patch of grass we called ours in the park. We brought my favorite blue patchwork quilt to sit on. Mom taught me how to make chicken salad sandwiches just for that occasion.
Spencer was quiet and his breathing so even I thought he had fallen asleep. I sighed and rested back on his arm.

“I miss my mom too. I send her a letter every day, but it’s not the same. She’s not here to read to me anymore,” his voice startled me.

I tried to picture his mother. Did she look like him? Did she have his same love of knowledge?

“She used to be a college professor. She’s a schizophrenic, in a Las Vegas psych hospital now,” I let him say whatever he wanted.

He told me of the poems she read. Of the small amount of time he could remember when his dad lived with them.

I drifted to sleep to the sound of his voice telling me a story, a story he remembered from his childhood.

I woke up a few hours later. I nipped at the side of his peck, to wake him. Reid had stolen the covers and I was freezing. I pinched with my teeth a little bit harder and he shook awake.

“Play nice,” he mumbled and pulled me closer.

“Give me some freaking covers,” I shivered dramatically and he lazily threw them across my body.

I grumbled a thank you and relaxed into his arm. After a few minutes of silence I realized I was awake; really awake.

I let my hand hover across his chest. I shoved myself upward and kissed his neck. I flipped effortlessly onto his hips.

“Really, now?” he questioned.

I wrapped my arms around his torso and lay down, on his chest.

“Nope, not now,” I replied.