Chapter Twenty-Two

Erin awoke the next morning to the bright sunlight streaming in, splashing golden rays across the massive white bedspread. Cocooned in the blankets, she felt Jon’s hard body pressed up against her back. She turned slightly to see him – one arm flung protectively over her side, the other bent and cradling his head, his legs stretched out comfortably. Blond hair hung down into his face, his lips parted slightly as he breathed quietly.

She sighed. He was beautiful.

Not wanting to wake him she lay still, enjoying the feel of him nestling her against him even in sleep. She wasn’t in a hurry to get up, anyway – her eyes were still heavy and she would gladly bury herself back beneath the blankets and sleep another few hours.

She had lain awake for hours after their “talk” last night. The battle she’d waged with her overworked brain all evening had finally lost with that climatic end on Jon’s part.

Those three little words. How was it possible that they could cause such a reaction in someone? They held such power in their simplicity, such depth in their connotations.

I love you.

Erin closed her eyes and sighed. She’d analyzed and over-analyzed last night until she nearly had to force her brain to shut up and shut down so she could rest. It seemed it was an entity all on its own, nowadays.

Part of her was touched – deeply touched – that he not only felt that strongly about her, but that he could confess it so openly. She wasn’t used to emotion and raw honesty in men. After all, Max had never shown one iota of evidence that he had an emotional side – besides worry, that is. He could easily pass as a one-dimensional creation and no one would know the difference.

Erin had grown used to that as an inclusive element of his character – just part of who he was – and it had never posed any real problems. It wasn’t that he was stony-hearted. He had a romantic side – if you could call it that. He’d dote on her and bring her flowers, tell her she was the most beautiful woman in the world, do everything and anything she wanted him to in bed, charm the neighbors when they walked down the sidewalk, hand in hand. But it had never really seemed pure. It all always seemed routine, like he was doing it because he was supposed to. Like he knew that men should try to make their girlfriends happy, whether they meant it or not.


But she’d grown tired of his antics and possession over her. He was the easily jealous type, she’d learned quickly, but he’d been the only one she knew when she moved to New Jersey, and she didn’t have many other options. He was just kind of there – someone she was dating, or seeing, rather than in a real relationship with. It took finding someone else to give her the courage to break things off when she did.

She’d never been in love with Max. She’d never uttered those three words to him, though he had to her. The problem was that she didn’t truly believe him.

She believed Jon, though. With every inch of her heart she believed him when he said it. And that was what scared her.

There was so much attached to a proclamation like that. For one thing, it ended the notion that they were a casual relationship. Erin had never considered them a fling, or a purely physical match – there was a lot more to it than that. A friendship, definitely. Attraction and chemistry, absolutely. But she didn’t think she was ready for the “L” word to be thrown into the mix.

Then there was the whole pressure of return. Was she supposed to say it back to him? Could she say it when she wasn’t sure if she felt the same? And what did that say about their relationship if one person was in love and the other…wasn’t?

Erin mentally shook herself. She was covering the same ground over and over again, retracing her steps. But she still couldn’t come up with a good reason why Jon’s confession was the end of the world. Because it wasn’t.

So stop acting like it is, she chided herself.

She felt Jon stir against her and rolled over to face him. She had to smile as he ran a lazy hand across his sleepy face, his eyes still shut against the offending morning light. The blond hair was tousled, a red mark from his arm decorated the side of one cheek. He was absolutely irresistible.

“Good morning, rock star,” she smiled. Jon scrunched up his face and opened one slitted eye at her, deciding how to accept the greeting. He decided on a throaty mumble, which elicited a soft giggle and kiss from her.

“How did you sleep?” she whispered. Jon nuzzled her neck, breathing in the scent that was so perfectly Erin.

“Pretty damn good,” he replied, his breath warm on her skin. “How about you?”

“Fine,” she lied. “This bed is ridiculously comfortable.”

“I know,” Jon sighed sadly. “I wish I could take advantage of that more often.”

Erin smiled. “Look at that pout – you’re such a little boy.”

“Oh really?” Jon wiggled his eyebrows at her. “I don’t think you would have said that last night.”

Erin blushed. “Now, now, no getting cocky. And don’t even think about making that joke,” she cut in as he opened his mouth to retaliate.

Jon laughed. “You do know me all too well.”

They fell silent again, content in the early phase of “wakeup” that rendered them both lazy.

The silence was broken, however, by Erin’s stomach growling loud enough to wake the dead. She burst out laughing.

“That lobster seems so long ago,” she giggled. She propped herself up on her elbows and looked down at Jon, her green eyes imploring. “Feed me.”

Jon sighed. “So demanding. What is it with women and food? You give them too much of it, they bitch about how fat they are. Give them too little, they whine and beg and put on a big show complete with mood swings and irritability until they get what they want, then eat too much of it and go back to bitching about looking like cows. We can never win.”

Erin laughed. “We?”

“Men. See, we’re perfectly content to eat however much we want and not worry about our figures. Give me a hamburger and fries and I’ll down them in five minutes, then agree to a whopping ice cream sundae with all the fixin’s. And I’ll wash it all down with a chocolate shake.”

“Okay, ignoring the fact that you never have to worry about your figure, you could not just happily eat all that and not suffer from heartburn or indigestion at the very least later,” Erin raised an eyebrow challengingly.

“Could so. Ever heard of tums?”

Erin snorted. “Okay, but on the other hand, if men are deprived food they are even crankier than women are. You guys turn into children when you’re hungry! All pouty and whiny and grumpy.”

“We do not!”

“Do so!”

“No,” Jon said, turning up his nose arrogantly. “You’re mistaken.”

Erin shook her head, laughing. “Like I said – children.”

Jon grinned up at her boyishly and snaked his fingers up into her hair, pulling her toward him for a kiss. “Back to your original request – what do you want to eat?”

Erin tilted her head in thought. “Pancakes,” she proclaimed. “Or French toast. Eggs. Bacon. Waffles. Fruit. Granola. Anything. I’m starving here.”

Jon chuckled. “All right. Your wish is my command, darlin’.”

He pushed back the covers and slid out of bed. Erin eyed the rippling muscles beneath the tan skin as he moved, thoughts of the night before flashing back like a movie reel.

“Enjoying the view?” Jon smirked as he pulled his jeans on.

“On second thought, I think I do know what I want,” Erin replied.

Jon pulled up the zipper and put his hands on his hips, looking at her thoughtfully.

“Sausage?”

Erin threw a pillow at him.

Monday, May 18, 2009

1 Comment:

Anonymous said...

ohh keep it coming. This is better than the books on my kindle. I cant wait for the next chapter.

 
Lie To Me - Wordpress Themes is proudly powered by WordPress and themed by Mukkamu Templates Novo Blogger