Spinning

"Get your butt over here."

His laughter makes me smile as I lean against the counter and adjust the phone on my shoulder.

"I'm not coming over."

"Yes you are. Hurry up so you can help me with dinner." I say, smiling, as he laughs again.

"You've got Patrick and his parents to help you with dinner," he argues but a smile is clear in his tone.

I lean forwards as Patrick puts his arms around my waist, kissing me softly and mumbling sweet things into my ear, "Patrick's not helping," I say, turning so that I'm leaning with my back against the counter and my stomach pressed against his, "and his parents aren't getting in for another hour or so."

I hear Jon sigh heavily, "I'll come drop off your presents but that's it--"

"Jonny!"

He laughs and I smile as Patrick's hands move up my sides, making my close my eyes.

"Jonny, you better be here in half an hour with your overnight bag or I'm going to be crying on Christmas Eve. Okay?"

"You're crazy."

I smile, "Hurry up."

Patrick takes the phone from my cheek and ends the call, putting a hand to my cheek and kissing me so deeply that a soft moan escapes my throat.

He only chuckles as his hands slide my dress over my hips before pulling off my thong which falls to my ankles.

"Patrick, Jonny's going to be here in--" I start but he interrupts, pushing a finger into me and forcing a moan from my throat. A quickie. Before Christmas dinner.

Why not.

"Hey, Kaner! Open the door!"

I widen my eyes at the sound of Jon's voice on the intercom, "Oh my god, Patrick. I'm still--"

He laughs, leaning me into a kiss, "Calm down, I've got it."

I shake my head, kissing him regardless of my anxiety, and then hurriedly changing into a fresh set of clothing before heading back into the hall where the boys are already engaged in conversation.

"Hey, Carly."

I smile, knowing my face is flushed and my chest is rising and falling rapidly, "Hi Jon."

"Wow. Is cooking dinner is really that hard?"

Patrick bursts into laughter and I hit him lightly in the stomach, pushing him backwards into the kitchen and then taking Jon's hand, "Here, you two can mash the potatoes and I'll take these and put them under the tree."

I take the gifts that Jonny has brought and put them under the already crowded Christmas tree. before returning to the kitchen where the boys are laughing, joking and doing everything but mashing potatoes.

The mess that was yesterday seems like a distant memory now as the three of us spend the next hour or so making a dinner that three twenty-somethings would be proud of. I get the boys to set the table and as soon as the turkey is finished cooking, there's a knock at the door.

"Good timing," Jon says, grinning at me. I smile in return, placing a hand on his back and leading him down the hall where Pat's parents are beaming with happiness.

After many hugs and kisses, the three of them have settled in the living room to catch up while
Jon and I put the last touches on dinner. The events of the previous days remain undiscussed as we talk instead about our families back home or anything besides the obvious topic that lingers like a toxin in the air.

By the time Pat's parents have left, it's half past midnight. The boys have long since retired to the living room and Patrick, I'm sure, has fallen asleep.

"Thanks for everything, Carly."

I stand up from filling the dishwasher and put a hand on my waist to see Jonathan standing before me looking as exhausted as I feel, "You're welcome. I'm really glad you came."

"Me too. Do you need any help or are you all finished?"

"Finished."

He smiles, "Well, thanks again."

I lean back against the counter, finding myself simply staring up at his face which has softened to an expression of care, or affection, or some other confusing emotion that I can't quite pick out. The night has long since grown dark but the apartment basks in the warm glow from candles on the counters as well as the distant illumination from the Christmas tree near the far window.

"I'm sorry."

I look up at him. The candlelight flickers in his deep, brown eyes, "Sorry? Why are you sorry?"

"I should have told you."

My heart beats faster and my hands grip the marble counter top behind me, "Told me what, Jon?" I ask him softly, barley speaking in more than a whisper.

"About...Florida. About Sarah. About everything, really. I knew. I should have told you."

There's a long pause between us and I've lowered my gaze to the floor, hearing his words replay over and over again inside my head, "I don't want you to apologize," I say finally.

He furrows his brow.

"It's over, Jonathan. It's in the past," I try to smile up at him but I don't think I manage it, "everything is...okay," I continue, "Everything is fine. So, don't apologize. It's not your fault."

I turn from him, wiping the already clean counter absentmindedly but his hand grips my arm and he pulls me to him.

"It's not okay, Carly. Nothing about your boyfriend cheating on you is okay. And twice? That's the farthest thing from 'okay'."

"What are you trying to say?" I hiss up at him but my voice falls weak and my strength matches that as I fail to pull my arm from his hold.

"I'm saying that it's not fair," he whispers, focusing his gaze hard upon mine as his hand falls to my side, "You don't deserve to be treated like he treats you. He's a good guy, Carly, but I don't think he can handle someone as loving and caring and truly remarkable as you are."

"Stop."

He shakes his head, pulling me to him as he places his other hand on my cheek, "You deserve better, Carly."

I clutch my hands over his stomach, squeezing my eyes shut and shaking my head, "He's what I want."

"But you deserve better."

"No, I don't."

"You deserve everything, Carly."

I shake my head harder, feeling his stomach tighten under my grip as I look up to meet his eyes, "I'm happy, Jonathan. I lam.

"You're not happy," he whispers as our forehead's touch.

"I am..."

"Then why are you crying?"

I close my eyes, feeling sick, "Because...I--because--" I fall empty for words.

And then he kisses me.

"Jon--"

He kisses me again. Several gentle touches of his lips touch mine until I'm kissing him back in a way that I can't seem to stop. My hands settle on his cheeks and his on my waist.

And then it's over.

I touch my fingers to my lips, staring into his eyes for a long moment as if not sure whether or not what just happened was real.

"Carly..."

I put a hand on his stomach and shake my head, pushing him away and then softly moving out of his hold. Silently, without a word to Jon, I walk over to Patrick.

"Come to bed, honey."

He nods, sleepily standing, completely unaware, and half-leaning against me as we walk down the hall and into our bedroom.

I try not to look at Jonathan in the kitchen as he stands, frustrated, with his head bowed and his eyes closed.

What the hell have I done?