Page 46 of Winter Break

It was pure instinct when I said, “Please stay.”

His smile was so bright that it blocked out everything else, including the doubts fighting to seep their way back into me.

I don’t know what I expected, but Dalton and I made our way to my bedroom, kissing as we went. We shed our jeans and took turns in the bathroom, where I found an extra toothbrush for him. He went first, and when I was done, I found him standing near the bed, staring out the bay window that was my favorite feature of my little upstairs apartment home.

It was my turn to wrap him in my arms, my turn to whisper in his ear. “A great big ocean out there for you to explore.”

He hummed, a cousin to the delicious sounds he’d made downstairs, this one softer, contemplative. “All visible right here from this window,” he countered before he sat and eased me between his legs, the both of us looking out at the winter sky, its stars scattered like frost.

We talked for hours that night, moving from the window to the bed, both of us on our sides, facing each other, moonlight illuminating our faces. We mostly talked about simple things, the people we knew, the movies we’d watched recently, our favorite singers, carefully avoiding more serious talk. And yet our discussion felt monumental, the Earth shifting and realigning itself with every song we both liked or blockbuster we disagreed about. We laughed a lot.

His hand brushing my cheek surprised me.

“You’re falling asleep on me, Turner.” I inhaled and smiled, embarrassed. He caressed me again and rolled onto his back, taking me with him, moving my hand onto his chest, twining his fingers with mine. The pulse of his heartbeat and him kissing the top of my head were the last things I remembered before my alarm woke us both with a jolt the next morning.

“Time to open the store?” he asked before I was completely awake. Had I been, I don’t think I ever would have responded the way I did.

“I’d much rather stay here and suck you off again, but yeah. I’ve got to get down there.”

“Holy fuck, Turner.” He pinned me down and took us both in hand again, like we’d done the night before. He kissed me, hard, laughing into my lips before pulling back to smile at me, his eyes dancing with joy. I smiled back, pushing down any doubts and worries, focusing on the pleasure that was flooding through me, and that I saw reflected in the greenest eyes I’d ever known.

“Lube, in the nightstand,” I spluttered when Dalton looked worried at my pulling away.

We came together, moaning and grunting into each other’s mouths. I rarely cursed, but I repeated Dalton’s phrase, shouting, “Holy fuck,” as my orgasm hit, and I could feel Dalton’s warm release joining mine.

His clean hand cupped my cheek, and he leaned down, I thought to kiss me, and I chased it, but he tapped my cheek instead and said, “Hurry up, time for work.” We were laughing again as we got out of bed and got cleaned up, and when was the last time getting out of bed was anything but a chore?

We shared a quick breakfast of cereal and coffee, and I ignored Dalton’s comment when he said he looked forward to the day that we could sneak downstairs to use the fancy new cappuccino maker that was tucked under my living room window—as if we’d still be spending nights together in my little apartment after the bookstore opened.

Dalton snuck down the back stairs before I went down to the toy store. He texted from his car to tell me he hadn’t run into anyone on his way there.

I, however, ran into Anita on my way down the back stairs.

“I’m opening today, Anita,” I said.

Anita opened the back door to the toy store, a serious look on her face. She gestured for me to enter and led the way to our shared office. I sat at my desk, and she sat at hers. We faced each other.

“Everything all right, Anita?”

“I’m leaving, Turner.”

“You and Wyatt have been talking about it for weeks. I know that.”

“I mean, I’m not sure when I’ll be back, son. Wyatt is … He’s not one to settle down. And if I’m going to see the world, now’s the time.”

“Anita.”

“I met with the attorney, yesterday.”

“Anita.”

“Don’t argue with me, Turner. It’s done.”

“We said the payoff would be ten years, which is still a ridiculously short amount of time. You can’t just …”

She opened the drawer at the center of her desk and waved a piece of paper. “This says I can. You’ve fulfilled your obligations, Turner. The building is yours.”

The sound of the ocean was washed out by the rushing in my ears. It was too soon for me to be in charge and not right or fair that she’d just turned the place over to me, but these were arguments we’d had over the years. What I wasn’t prepared for was her saying she was leaving, possibly for good. I wanted her to be happy, I really did. But Anita was my family, and I was losing her, to Wyatt and an RV.