Page 123 of On His Mind

And what hits me the hardest is that I’ve never been in a picture. Not on anyone’s wall, not one in a phone that didn’t get destroyed, not one anywhere –– and here I am for the first time, hand-drawn, on purpose. She even has my hands right. She looked at me long enough to get it right. My posture, my expression, my width.

I look at it too long. I know I’m looking too long. I can’t stop.

This is the best gift I’ve ever received.

I’m going to have this when I’ve got nothing else.

“Thank you,” I say. I realize I’ve said those two words that have been so hard for me to put together, but it’s not enough for what I actually feel. It’s the wrong size for what it is, but it’s the only thing I’ve got.

She’s watching me, and I think she catches some of it, but she doesn’t say anything as she moves in against my side and looks at the drawing with me. I hold it careful at the edges and keep staring at it.

We don’t say anything for a long time.

The snow keeps coming down past the window. The Christmas lights are on. The house is dead quiet, the way it only gets this one week a year, and for once, the quiet isn’t empty. I have her.

I never want this to end.

She turns her face up off my chest and looks at me. Her hand comes up to my jaw, turning me from the paper to her, and she kisses me with open eyes, watching me. She’s soft and careful, like she knows I’m cracked open and she’s being gentle with me.

I set the drawing down. On the coffee table, out of the way where nothing can happen to it, and she waits while I do it. Then I turn back to her.

She takes my face in both of her hands as she kisses me sweetly. I reach under the shirt she’s wearing, running my cold fingers up her body. She inhales, gasping, so I stop. I take it off instead and let it drop on the floor. Then I stop and just look at her.

“Are you alright?” she asks.

I grab her hand and bring it to my lips. “Better than okay.” I kiss the back of her hand and kiss up her arm. “I love––” I kiss her arm, “I love the drawing, Penelope.”

“I’m happy you like it,” she replies.

I bite down on her forearm. “I love it.”

Her eyes flick down to my lips. I pull my shirt off and dive in to kiss her. I want to feel her against me. I’m careful about it. I know her now — where she likes my hands, the sound she makes when I get it right, the way her breath catches. I take my time with her, savoring everything about her. The whole thing is quiet. We watch each other. I shove my pants down to free my cock while she pulls her pajama shorts down. I slowly rock into her, watching her moan under me. I take her left breast into my mouth, using my tongue to make her moan. She grabs onto my hair and gently pulls. I work my mouth on her other breast. I thrust into her over and over again, watching as each one makes her blush. She grabs my hand and presses my fingers against her clit. I rub circles and watch her gasp for air. She says my name low, once, and it goes all the way through me.

This isn’t like the other times. She orgasms on me, and she’s clenching around me. I come at the same time, meeting her hips over and over. I press my forehead against hers and stare into her eyes. She runs her hands to the back of my neck.

“This is my favorite Christmas,” she breathes.

I kiss her open mouth. “It’s mine, too.”

I stay inside her for a long minute, not wanting it to end.

The guys come back in six days. I know that. Once they’re back, it’s second semester of the school year, the town fills back up, reality is coming. But not today. Today it’s snowing, the Christmas lights are on, and she’s warm against me. I pull the blanket over us both, and I don’t think about the six days. I just hold her.

Chapter 42

Penelope

Theguyscomebackthe first Sunday of January, and by that night, I’m parking two blocks from Hawthorne again. It’s the same walk I’ve made a hundred times — the cold, the dark street, the text when I’m close, the side door, his hand finding the small of my back to move me past the third stair. Except two weeks ago, I walked in the front. Two weeks ago, there was nobody to hide from, and tonight Stanley’s laughing at something through his bedroom wall. Hearing it makes me panic, so I hold my breath on the landing and jump into Percy’s bedroom.

In his room, with the door shut, he pulls me in and kisses my forehead and whispers, “Sorry it’s back to this.”

I nod.

“The break was nice.”

“It was.” I press my face into his chest, so he doesn’t see me start to crumble. I know what I signed up for. Winter break was two weeks of the front door, and now it’s back to late nights, and I chose this, and I’d choose it again.

“Come here,” I tell him. And I mean it.