Chapter 11: She Stays

I did not answer Calvin's text, and I did not go to Saturday's plan.

I went to Keith's flat instead.

This time I brought a toothbrush, which I told myself was practical.

He opened the door in an old T-shirt and bare feet, and he had a pot of something on the stove.

"I made soup," he said. "It's not good."

"Is it edible?"

"It's soup-adjacent."

We ate it standing at the counter, and it was not good.

We laughed so hard I got broth on his floor.

Then he put the bowls in the sink and turned and looked at me.

There was nothing hurried in it.

He took my face in his hands and kissed me slowly.

We had all night.

He undressed me in the lamplight, one piece at a time, and kissed every place he uncovered.

My shoulder. The inside of my wrist. The long line of my ribs.

When I reached for him he caught my hand.

"Not yet," he said. "Last time you took care of me. Let me do something for you."

"I'm in charge."

"You can be in charge of the rest of your life," Keith said.

He laid me down on the bed. "Tonight, lie still."

I did not lie still.

He took his time between my legs until I was begging.

Then he stopped and held my hips and waited until I asked him in words.

"Please," I said. "Please, Keith. I need you inside me."

He came into me slowly, so slowly that I felt every second of it.

I locked my ankles behind his back and pulled him down, and he pressed his forehead against mine.

"I've got you," he said.

I had not known how much I needed someone to say it.

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