Mr. 365 (20 page)

“Will,” I gasp, every fantasy I’ve had of him has led to this.

He watches me squirm as I wait for his touch. His gaze falls over me with his silent smile, making me feel beautiful.

“No one ever… ever…has made me feel like this.” My head falls back as if in a dream. I open my eyes as he brushes his lips up my neck, and tastes me with warm kisses.

Our hunger overtakes us as he devours me, sinking into me so completely it transcends everything. When we are finally hip to hip, I am electrified by the perfection—the delicious stretch and fullness of him inside of me. I want to cry knowing that my love for him is exquisitely captured in this perfect moment.

“I’m so done for,” I whisper with a love-soaked smile, endlessly opening beneath him.

“Breathe, love, this is just the beginning,” he chants, this man who gives me everything and more. His strong hands hold me until I’m weightless, falling toward him.

The room rocks back and forth with each thrust, the exhilarating anticipation of climax building. We keep going up, up, up, and when we climb high enough, reaching the edge of the cliff, I swear I see the stars in his eyes.

We are wound tightly together, letting the reality of what we’ve done soak through us. I rewind moments over and over in my head. I grin internally and slowly skim my hand from one side of his chest to the other. I don’t have to look up to know he’s smiling. I can feel his happiness; it’s that big.

I realize all the lights in the room have faded to the faintest glow. What time is it anyway? It felt as if we made love endlessly, and I laugh to myself, wondering if I’ll even be able to walk tomorrow. I kiss his shoulder.

“Hey, beautiful,” he whispers, stroking my hip with his fingers.

“What time is it?” I ask.

He turns toward the small table next to the bed and lifts up the clock. “Eleven-thirty.”

“Wow. I guess I’m spending the night.” I giggle.

“You aren’t going anywhere,” he says, pulling me closer.

“Good thing we aren’t shooting in the morning. I’m not sure I’d have the energy. You wore me out.”

He chuckles, his voice sounding rough from exhaustion. “Yeah, we got pretty wild. You wore me out too.”

I lift my leg and curl it over his muscular thigh. “I was out of practice. It’d been a while.”

“Really? I couldn’t tell. But it’s been a while for me too, so we’re even.”

I’m happy to reconfirm that there isn’t a rotating door on his grand bedroom.

“I’m glad to hear that. I wasn’t sure what to think when you first brought me in here. This room screams sex.”

“It does? That wasn’t what I was going for… but I guess it’s an added bonus if you like it. We were inspired for sure,” he says, sounding genuinely surprised.

He lets out a big yawn.

“I guess we should sleep,” I say.

“Please.”

“But one more thing, okay?”

“Just one?” He teases.

“Uh-huh, only one.”

“What is it,” he whispers, and his voice wavers on the edge of sleep.

“I really like you. Really,” I say quietly.

He presses his lips into my hair and gently kisses my head. “I really like you too, Sophia.”

“Good, glad we got that settled,” I say. I close my eyes with a smile on my face, as the soft blanket of sleep slowly eases back over us.

Sometime before daybreak, I stir awake just enough and realize Will isn’t spooning me. I turn onto my back and reach for him, but he isn’t there.

“Will?” I sit up in bed and don’t see him in the bedroom or hear him in the adjoining bathroom. The bedroom door is open and I notice a faint light coming from the hall. I get up, find one of his T-shirts, and slip it on over my head before quietly padding into the hall.

I slowly explore, confirming he isn’t upstairs and decide go downstairs.
Maybe he’s checking on Romeo?
I get alarmed when I can’t find him in the kitchen or family room. The last place I think he’ll be is in the dining room, but sure enough, that’s where I find him.

I gaze at him from the doorway. He’s leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees while sitting in a chair against the wall. His gaze is fixed on the treasure chest. In the dim light I can’t read his expression and it worries me. Why has he left our bed to linger in a room he created from a place of loss?

“Will,” I say softly.

He looks up, his eyes wide with surprise. “Hey, what are you doing up?”

“I was wondering the same. Do you mind if I join you?” I point to the empty chair next to him.

He smiles. “I don’t mind.”

I slowly settle in the chair, leaning back and taking in the silence. My heart is pounding so hard I wonder if he can hear it.

“I come down here sometimes if I can’t sleep. This is a place I like to think things out.”

“So you’ve got a lot on your mind?”

He nods. “Yeah, there’s a lot going on.”

Everything in this room looks different in the dim light. The iridescent walls have lost their shimmer, and many of the ornament shapes are hard to identify. It reminds me of a film I saw about divers and how dark the ocean is when they dive deep.

“So you come to the room you created for Andrew when you need to work things out?” I feel sad as I say it.

“Does that weird you out?”

I look at the treasure chest. “Yes and no. I think I’m a little unnerved because earlier we were making love, and now you’re here. I’m not sure how to feel about that.”

“Right after this room was done I used to sit and talk to Andrew pretty much every night. I haven’t done that in a while. Now it just makes me feel peaceful being in here.”

He skims right over my concern, and I wonder if he even heard me
.
“Is it strange having me in here?”

He traces the scratches on the back of his hand with his finger, and then looks up. “No. The significance of this room is part of me, part of my past. It’s right that I would share it with you.”

“I’m glad you feel that way.”

“Losing Andrew changed my entire life. And even though all these years have passed, it’s still with me.”

“I understand. Can I ask you how he died?” I ask gently.

Even in the dim light, I see the agony flair in his eyes.

“Andrew was the ideal big brother. He was fun and imaginative, protective and bossy. We even had a secret language with each other. I’ve heard twins have the same thing…. He only tortured me occasionally.” He grins.

I laugh. I learned quickly how to give it right back to my siblings, but it could be exhausting.

“So like me, Andrew inherited the holiday gene and always came up with all kinds of adventures for us around the holidays. Around that time my dad’s company was doing transport for a piano manufacturer. If he had access to empty piano crates, he’d haul them home for us to use as clubhouses. He’d just cut out openings for windows and doors out of the sides and we were good to go.”

“Cool,” I say, imagining it in my mind.

“That year we had one we played in all the time and dad strung strands of lights around the crate during Christmas. Andrew convinced me that we were explorers living in the North Pole, hunting reindeer for food, and keeping watch for Santa.”

“How cute.” I picture Will with a plastic bow and arrow stalking suburban backyards with his brother.

“So one Saturday I was crawling through the door to go inside the clubhouse and I scraped up my side because the opening was too small. I made such a scene about it that Andrew decided he’d fix the problem. Dad was at work that day, so Andrew went and got dad’s saw out of the garage and starting sawing away while I cheered him on. It didn’t occur to either of us to turn off the Christmas lights and move them out of the way.”

I close my eyes, suspecting what’s to come.

Will stops and when I glance up, his eyes are haunted as if he’s reliving it. “It happened so fast, Sophia. One minute we’re laughing and he’s proudly making progress as he cuts away, and the next there’s a horrible noise—I’ll never forget that sound—and he falls over flat.”

I gasp at the visual and cover my mouth with my open hands.

“I knew it was really bad. I screamed and ran into the house to get my mom, but by the time we got back, he was gone. He had the live wires clutched in his hands. He’d cut not just through the lights but the big extension cord and there was some issue with the outside lighting so it didn’t trip the circuit breaker.”

“Oh, God. How horrible. I can’t even imagine.”

“My mom went completely nuts. They had to sedate her, and she was never the same after that day. She blamed me, she blamed my dad, and she even blamed Christmas. I felt like my life was over even though Andrew was the one that was gone.”

“So that’s why your family no longer celebrated Christmas.”

He nods. “Not only did we never have it again, it was the worst time of the year in our house. Everything was gray and empty. Dad would drink more than usual and mom would sink into a catatonic depression. I hated being there and as soon as I got old enough, I stayed away as much as I could.”

We sit silently for a minute, and I think about what this means to the Will I know now.

“So all of this” —I gesture to the house— “is to make up for what you lost?”

“Yeah, although it wasn’t premeditated or anything. It just sort of happened over time. I told you about that studio job where I worked on a Christmas movie. It was this big overdone production—every inch of the house was Christmasized. At first I approached it unaware of how it would affect me personally. As the project went on I realized how happy I was working on it. I would get there earlier than I needed to, and hang around longer at the end of the day.”

“How interesting. Your reaction was instinctive. It gave you back some of the joy you missed out on as a child.”

“Exactly. So when they offered the props in lieu of pay, I jumped at the chance even though part of me was worried I’d lost my mind. Where was I going to put all that stuff when it wasn’t Christmas?” He laughs and shrugs.

“Fast forward a few years and here we are,” I say, grinning.

“Yes, indeed. Here we are.”

“What do you imagine Andrew would think of all this?”

“I’ve often wondered that. I think he’d love it.”

“I bet he would.” I scrunch up my nose. “Maybe not all the glitter and mermaids in here… but everything else.”

“Yeah,” he says with a wistful smile.

I scan the room, seeing it in a new light. It occurs to me that this room is different from the rest, but I decide not to bring it up.

“What were you just thinking?”

I sigh and my expression falls. “Just that this is the only room with no Christmas lights.”

“No. Pity the girl I was dating who surprised me by hanging some in here a few years back.”

“Oh, no.”

“Believe me, it was a short lived relationship,” he says.

I smooth his T-shirt down over my legs and get up. “I’m going to go back to bed. Come up whenever you’re ready, okay?”

He takes my hand and stands. “I’m ready.”

After walk back to the room, we crawl under the covers and into each other’s arms. He smiles and runs his fingers over my cheek.

“What?” I ask.

“All that talking and you never asked me what I was thinking about downstairs. I talked to Andrew about something important.”

“Really? What did you talk about?”

He links his hand in mine and squeezes gently. “I told him I’m in love with you.”

“Oh, Will!” I press my hand over my heart to keep it in my chest. I’m overcome with emotion. That’s when an idea hits me. I peel the covers off me and swing my legs over the side of the bed.

“I’ll be right back,” I say.

“Hey, where are you going?” he says, grabbing the back of my makeshift nightie.

I turn back and grin, my eyes dancing. “I’m going to talk to Andrew and tell him I’m in love with you, too.”

His smile is so big I’d swear the sun’s burst in his room.

“Come here you!” He tackles me and pins me to the bed with his body. A moment later he begins expressing to me all of his love, without using a single word.

T
he sunrise is brilliant the next morning, illuminating a crystal blue sky and leaving every shadow sharply defined. Fine dew lingers over the manicured lawns with the quiet hush fading as the sounds of a new day fill the air. Fall in Los Angeles never feels like autumn, just a cooler version of a sunny day.