Chapter 23: Hers

He said the wrong thing about the menu.

He ordered the fish because he thought it was the safe choice.

I laughed so hard that the waiter came to ask if we were all right.

We ate, and talked, and did not talk about Russell once.

At ten we walked back to the bindery in the cold.

Neither of us pretended that was why we walked so close.

I unlocked the shop door and locked it behind us.

The stairs at the back were narrow and steep, and I went up first.

The little room above the shop was dark except for the streetlight in the window.

I did not turn on the lamp.

I turned around instead, at the top of the stairs, and he stopped one step below me, which put his eyes level with mine.

"Hands at your sides," I said.

His mouth moved.

"Is that an order?"

"It's what I want. You've done all the leading. Tonight you wait."

He lowered his hands.

I took my time.

I kissed him slowly, once, and drew back, and watched him fight to stay where I'd put him.

I took his coat off his shoulders and let it fall on the stair.

I undid his shirt one button at a time.

With each button I pressed my mouth to the skin it uncovered.

I kissed the base of his throat, the center of his chest, the long scar on his ribs.

He breathed in sharply when I reached it.

"Shipyard," I said against it.

"Yes."

"I'm going to learn the rest of you."

His hands closed into fists at his sides.

I pushed the shirt off his arms.

I unbuckled his belt, and he said my name, rough and low, and I said, "Wait," and he waited.

I pulled him up into the room by his belt and sat him on the edge of the cot.

Then I stood in front of him and took off my sweater.

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