I Can’t Let You Go 6

::SIX::

It’s quarter to seven, when I finally pull up in front of the university bookstore. I had to drive around for about a half an hour, or I would have been even earlier. I can’t help that I feel that way, but I don’t need to freak her out, either. Put my head back on the headrest for a minute, closing my eyes, trying to settle my nerves. When I think of all the things I’ve walked into in my life. Firefights, outright war zones, and this has got me nervous. More than nervous, if I’m going to be honest about it. Scared. This scares me in a way none of those things ever did. Maybe because I know that if I screw this up, it’s going to hurt worse.

Wiping my palms on my jeans, ignoring the hollow pit in my gut, I get out of the car. There are four people, sitting at tables, drinking coffee, and a few more looking quietly through the stacks of books. The kid with the purple hair, Dan, looks up when I came in, with the tinkle of bells above the door.

“She’s in the back.” He says, coming towards me, a bunch of empty cups in one hand, his other extended. The introductions are quick, and he’s pointing to a door behind the counter, with the sign, ‘employees only’. “She probably finished already, she was pricing some stuff.” He goes back to what he was doing, leaving me to go find Jeanette myself.

The room is small and dimly lit, stacks of books piled high on raw wooden shelves. The sound of Jeanette singing some unidentifiable song to herself, under her breath, as she works, sitting at a low table, her voice soft and quiet, completely content. I stay as still as I can, not wanting her to stop, the sound of her voice making me giddy and heartsick at the same time. Knowing that when she turns around and realizes someone else is there to hear her, that she’ll stop, and probably be too shy to start again.

The room is too small for me to go unnoticed for long, and, inevitably, she turns and catches my eye, her voice stilling instantly, I miss it already. “Sean! You weren’t supposed to hear that.” She’s grinning, blushing furiously.

“You have a beautiful voice, Jeanette.”

She stands up, the space between us less. We had kissed last night, when I had dropped her off after dinner. A little kiss, I had called it. Standing here so close to her I can’t call it a little kiss. I don’t think there is such a thing as a little kiss, not with her. My hand at her neck tilts her face up to me, as I lean down to kiss her, the movement slow. Still a delicate kiss, the heat hidden deep underneath, neither one of us ready for it yet.

“I’ve been thinking about that all day.” She says, with a soft sigh, breaking into a huge smile.

“Glad I’m not the only one.” I kiss her hair this time, laughing softly. She thought of kissing me all day. I can’t help how happy that makes me, hold her tight, my nose in her hair, for just a moment, before letting her go. Like last night, our hands touch. Maybe I just need to touch her to tell myself this is real. Maybe we both do.

“Just let me tell Dan I’m leaving.”

“I’m not going to get you in trouble, am I, coming by like this?” She turns to me, our hands still linked, the smile bright in her eyes.

“Dan’s my boss.” She laughs at my obviously shocked look. He’s a kid with purple hair, afterall. “He liked you the minute you brought me flowers. He said you were a keeper.”

“Maybe I should be bringing HIM flowers.” I like making her laugh, the sound of it, in it’s own way, like her singing. Quiet, soft and contented. A sound, like her singing, that I’d like to get used to. I stay close to her as we walk out, nodding to Dan as we leave. If him liking me does anything towards her wanting to stay with me, then I like him just fine, purple hair or not.

“I was thinking maybe we could go see a movie?” I ask, as I sit next to her, for the first time since signing out this car not minding how small it is. It makes it easy to hold her hand again, something else I’m starting to like. “What do you like to watch?”

Her laughter gets a little deeper, her smile a little wider. “You’ve done it now. What if I like chick flicks?”

She has me laughing with her, as I pull out, heading for the theatres. I shouldn’t get lost, I checked out where they were, in my driving around before going to pick her up. “I think I’d even sit through a chick flick with you.” She kisses my hand, making me glad this thing’s an automatic.

She turns to face me, biting her lower lip again. “I like horror movies, the scarier, the bloodier, the better.” She almost looks guilty when she says it, as though she’s telling me some deep, dark secret about herself.

I turn to her, laughing again, “You’re full of surprises, Jeanette. Have you seen anything lately?”

“I’ve rented movies, but it’s better when you watch it in the theatre. You can’t scare yourself silly at home. What do you like to watch?”

“Now? Now I like scary movies.” She’s blushing again, as we pull up to the theatres, watching the times on the marquis up front. She lets out a gasp, pointing up at one of the titles. Big scary teeth on the poster, lots of blood, she’s grinning like a little kid.

Her happiness over it is infectious. “Come on, we’d better hurry, it starts in, damn, seven minutes, Jeanette.” A run into the theatre isn’t exactly what I had in mind, when this started. Tickets, a run down the hallway, giggling, still holding hands, sliding into seats somewhere in the middle of the theatre, right before the lights go out. Still enough light that I can watch mischief sparkle in her dark eyes.

“Fifteen minutes of commercials, we probably could have walked.” She grins at me, whispering quietly.

“Wouldn’t have been as much fun though.” She curls her legs underneath her, getting comfortable. It’s awkward to hold her hand, the way we’re sitting, so I rest my arm on the back of her chair, not quite sure about putting it around her yet, if that will be too far. She notices, and nestles her head into my arm anyway, giving me butterflies again.

The sound comes up, just as I lean in to ask her if she wants me to get her something to drink before the movie starts. I lean in closer to ask her again, her puzzled look telling me she didn’t hear me. My nose brushes her cheek, about to whisper in her ear. Everything around me fades out, as I raise her chin to me, kissing her instead. It wasn’t something I had planned on. She hadn’t either, an intake of breath, lips parted in surprise.

Caught off guard, a flick of tongues, the lightest of touches, tracing a pattern on her lip for a moment. The kiss deepens, when neither of us pulls back. Our tongues sweep easily over each other, tangling. Our hands bumping and moving past each other, mine to rest behind her neck, pulling her tighter to me, hers to cup my jaw, tracing the stubble with her thumb.

Pulling back to breathe, to watch her. Worried I’ve angered her, or worse, hurt her. That I might have gone farther than she wanted. The first kiss had caught us both off guard, the second didn’t. Both asking a silent question with our eyes, as we broke apart. Answering with our mouths and our hearts, as we kissed again, no accident this time. A soft moan becoming a shared hum, as our tongues met again. No hesitation this time, a passionate kiss that had us both breathing hard when we finally broke.

I had dreamt last night about kissing her, the dream doesn’t even come close to the real thing. The feel of her, the electric charge of her skin, as we touched. Our breathing stills, our noses just touching, as the commercials stop, in a brief moment of quiet before the start of the movie. We kiss again, gently this time, like the very first time, our eyes holding each other the whole time. Maybe the passion in the kiss wasn’t expected, but it wasn’t objected to, when it came, either.

“I dreamt about kissing you last night, Jeanette.” I leave the rest of it out, as I tell her. My own words come back to me, as she looks up at me, her face full of mischief again.

“Glad I wasn’t the only one.” She grins, the both of us turning to watch the start of the movie.

I had woken up this morning, flushed and feeling guilty, after what, to me for the first time in a year and a half, was an erotic dream. A dream of a woman other than Stacy. I didn’t feel guilty now. Kissing Jeanette felt right. Her curled up against my shoulder watching the movie felt right. Being with her felt right.

I felt a little sad, but I didn’t feel guilty. Sad, because in accepting Jeanette, it meant knowing I was letting Stacy go, something I never thought I would do, never wanted to do. Looking over at Jeanette, her knees pulled up to her chest, giggling at being scared silly. Jeanette would never ask me to let Stacy go. She accepted Stacy, as being part of my life, last night, when she kissed the ring I still wear. She would never ask me to give her up, and, knowing she would never ask, I let Stacy slip a little further. I had come all the way out here, trying to leave everything behind, trying to find a way to let Stacy rest, and now that it was happening, I wasn’t prepared for how much it hurt. For how sad it would make me.

I pull Jeanette a little closer, my arm around her shoulder, nuzzling my nose in her hair. Her hand reaches out for mine, our fingers interlacing. “You okay, Sean?” Her voice is so quiet, her head resting on my shoulder, eyes closed, ignoring the movie for a moment. I nod, my face still buried in her hair. “I am now.”

We don’t watch much of the rest of the movie, the occasional bloody scream making us both look up, and watch for a few minutes. My arm fell asleep, I didn’t care. Some clown behind us yelled out that we should get a room. I didn’t care much about that either, especially not when I looked down at Jeanette and saw her laughing softly at the comment. As long as she’s not mad about it.

“Maybe we’ll have to rent this, when it comes out?” I mumble in her ear, when the credits run. It takes months for movies to come out to rent them. My chest tightens a little, thinking how much I want for this to last.

She grins up at me, letting out a quiet laugh. “We could NOT watch it all over again.”

The night air is cooler, when we leave the theatre, not that I would need any excuse to keep my arm around her. “Coffee.” Resting my hand on her hip, pointing across the street to a nearby coffeehouse. No answer from Jeanette, just a soft hum of happiness, which has me grinning again. It’s too busy, and too loud, inside, so we sit at the picnic tables outside, her back nestled into my chest, my arms comfortable around her waist.

“Thank you for taking me, Sean, I haven’t had that much fun in a while.”

“Going to the movies, or making out at the movies?”

I don’t have to see her to know that she’s grinning. “Both.” She leans back against me, my nose in her hair, my lip just touching the shell of her ear. I pull her a little closer to me, circling her waist.

“When?” It’s out before I can stop myself, the word little more than a whisper in her ear. Part of me wants to take it back, knowing I had no business asking, that maybe I don’t want to know.

“No one since John.”

I look over her shoulder at her, my thumb under her chin. “No one since Stacy. I haven’t wanted to until now, not until I met you.”

“Are you going to break my heart, Sean?” Her voice is quiet, her body still and tense in my arms, like she’s holding her breath. Maybe it’s a question she doesn’t know if she wants the answer to either.

“I’ll never hurt you, Jeanette, not ever.” Her body relaxes a little, and I hold her tight, nuzzling over her ear. It’s not something I said just to say it. I can’t imagine ever hurting her, not in any way. “Don’t break mine.”

She’s turning, in my arms, her skirt pulling up, she doesn’t care, to straddle the picnic bench in front of me. Her face is serious, the skin between her eyebrows bunched, as she takes my jaw in her two hands. Leaning in, pulling me to her, she kisses me hard, the heat of the kiss enough to leave me breathless. “I won’t break your heart, Sean.”

Her hand drops over my heart, resting there for a moment. We watch each other for a moment. There’s so much I want to say, and I don’t know how, or if I should. I know that once I start, I probably won’t be able to stop. A lot of it I’m scared to say, not wanting to say it out loud, not just yet. Maybe I just need to know this is real, before I get my heart ripped out. Watching her face, still serious, I know she won’t hurt me either. It wasn’t just something she said, just to say it. She meant it. The both of us know hurt well. More than just being dumped, or stood up. More than just being disappointed. We know hurt, in a way a lot of other people might never understand. I know I’ll never hurt her. Never. Looking at her, feeling her small cool hand over my heart, I know she’s not going to hurt me either.

I kiss the bunched up spot between her eyebrows, making her laugh. “What are you doing tomorrow? Do you have to work late?”

“I work until seven again. I bet if I asked, Dan would let me go earlier.” She breaks out in a laugh. “If YOU asked….”

I kiss her again, the sound of her laugh making me grin. “My partner, Alvarez, and his family are coming over tomorrow to help me sort my house out a little. They’ve been asking when they would get to meet you.”

“What time?”

“We won’t be there until about four or so. I should warn you, I haven’t unpacked since I moved in. You have to promise me you won’t run out screaming.”

She’s grinning at me, but her eyes are still serious. “If you want me to be there, I’ll be there.”

I lean in to kiss her again, the heat in it closer to the surface. Her hand hasn’t left my heart. Threading my hand in her hair, pulling her close to me. “I want you there, Jeanette.”

“I’ll call you when I’m off?”

Not trusting my voice, I nod, my nose buried in her hair again. I would have stayed like that all night with her, but it was close to eleven now, and it was getting cold. “I should take you home, ‘Nette.” Neither one of us seemed like we were in a rush to go, the walk back to the car slow, my arm around her waist, holding her close. The ride back quiet, and comfortable. I like talking to her, I love her voice, and her laugh, and I like this too. Just being quiet, and spending time with her.

It’s harder to leave her than I would have thought. Our passionate kiss at her door gentling, ending in just a brushing of lips, so much like our first kiss. In the end just holding her tight. “I want to be more than just a date to you, Jeanette.” I hate the hoarseness, the need, in my own voice.

“What am I to you?”

Lover? Beloved? A woman that makes me feel alive again every time I look at her? Every time I think of her? “Girlfriend?” The word seems weak, in my own ears, not coming close to what I feel. Maybe it’s just the safest word, for now.

She smiles up at me, kissing me one last time. “Girlfriend, then.” Weak word or not, the sound of it, when she accepts it, makes me grin again. It’s another ten minutes before we get separated again, and I drive home.

“Fuck it, he’ll be up.” I sat by the phone until it was nearly twelve, debating whether to call, just needing someone to talk to, the idea of sleeping impossible.

His voice is sleepy on the other side of the phone, but he picked it up right away. I know he keeps it by the bed. “Hicks…” I hadn’t talked to him in about a month, and, if I wasn’t already smiling, hearing his voice again would have done it anyway.

“Holy shit, Vetter…no, it’s just Sean, go back to sleep baby…” His voice is a whisper when he gets back on the phone. “What the hell have you been up to?”

“I’m seeing someone….” Maybe it’s a strange thing to make a huge long distance call at midnight to tell a guy you’ve got a girlfriend. Maybe if it was anyone else but Hicks, who watched my life fall apart, when Stacy died. Who watched me die with her. Candice and D tried to set me up a couple of times. To quote Jeanette, it just never took, it never felt right.

“Is it serious?” I can hear the worry in his voice, even across this distance. Candice is talking to him in the background.

“Not yet. I…”

“I don’t want you to get hurt, Sean.” His voice is quieter, when he says it. It’s not really something a guy says to another guy, but it’s Hicks, not just another guy. It’s been strained, lately. I guess that’s my fault, maybe not all of it, but most of it. He’s still one of the best friends I’ve got, and he’s allowed to ask that I not get hurt, especially after he had to try to hold me together the last time.

“It’s okay, D.” I laugh over the phone, “I’m probably in way over my head, but I don’t think I’m going to get hurt.” I lean back in the chair, listening to Hicks tell me about Candice, and their daughter, Rachel. It’s good to hear him again. We talked for about another half an hour, before Candice wrestled the phone away from him, and I hung up.

I tossed and turned for a while, unable to sleep, and when I slept, I dreamt of her.

next…