He smiles through his shivers. “Not…quite…how I imagined…undressing with you again.”
I hang up his shirt and pants beside his coat to dry. Over my head, his socks and boxers go flying onto the shower floor. I laugh. He’s wrapped himself up inside my quilt, and only his face is peeking out.
“This doesn’t mean you can take advantage of me,” he says.
I laugh again.
Josh sweeps out a hand across the surface of my bed as a gesture for me to sit beside him, but the quilt catches on the manuscript. It knocks over on to the floor in a loud, crashing, never-ending nightmare. We freeze in horror. We listen for Nate. Nothing.
We smile at the miracle that has been granted to us.
I sit beside him. He scoots in towards me, but I pull back my head. “Don’t you want to know what I thought about your book first?” I ask.
“I don’t know.” He laughs nervously. “Do I?”
“You know it’s good. You know it’s really, really good.”
His face disappears as his entire body slumps into the mound of blankets. “You can’t even begin to imagine how relieved I am to hear you say that.”
“I’ve always known you’re brilliant. And you’ve just proved it to the world.”
A hand pokes out from underneath the quilt. I squeeze it. “For what it’s worth?” he says. “You’d make a great editor someday. Everything you yelled at me was true.”
I look away from him in shame. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
“No. I am. I’m sorry about so many things. And I’m especially sorry for…using your ex-girlfriend to fuel my own stupid insecurities. I want you to know that I don’t love this” – I gesture towards his manuscript, scattered across my hardwood – “because there’s less of her in it. Or more of me. I want you to know that I love it because it has you in it – the good parts and the ugly parts. I love you. I love all of you.”
He grips my hand harder. “Thank you.”
“The praise is a long time coming.” I rub my thumb against his index finger. “And I have so much more of it to give.”
“Tomorrow. Right now, I only want you.”
But my heart grows heavy again. “You mean today. Did you find out when your train leaves?”
“Isla.” He looks surprised. Like I should already know this. “I never bought a ticket.”
My breath catches. “What?”
“I’m not going to the Olympics. I came here for you.”
“Does…does that mean you’re staying?”
He scoots in closer. “Two weeks. Through the end of the games, if you’ll have me. But then I’m stuck in DC until June.”
“Yes. Yes, I’ll have you!”
Josh smiles impishly. “Oh, you will?”
I shove him through the blankets. He topples over onto his side, laughing, pulling me down with him. He stares into my eyes. His smile fades. “I’ve missed you so much.”
I rub my arms against the chill. “I’ve missed you.”
“You’re cold.” He holds open the quilt. “Come here.”
I scoot forward into the blankets and sheets and pillows. Into him. The quilt falls against my back, enveloping me against his body. I press my cheek against his bare chest. He tightens his grip around me. We lie very, very still. The world is silent except for the steady beat of our hearts. After several minutes, I look up at him.
Josh stares back. His heartbeat quickens.
I slide upward until our noses are pressed against each other. I kiss the corner of his mouth, and I feel him smile as he kisses the corner of mine. His fingers trail down my back as he unzips my dress. He pulls it all the way down, past my ankles, and lets it drop onto the floor. He removes my bra and then my underwear.
He removes my compass necklace last.
Our kisses are soft. Teasing. Restrained. Our skin is clammy, and then warm, and then hot. Our kisses grow longer. Our breathing gets faster. I fumble for a condom. He presses against me, and it feels so good, so intense that I cry out. He meets my gaze to make sure that everything is all right, everything is more than all right, and my h*ps arch against him in response. His eyes close in rapture, and he’s guiding my body, and we’re finding our rhythm, and we’re together again, at last.
We can’t say the words enough.
I love you.
They’re a chant through the night as we move together slowly. Then quickly. Slowly. Then quickly. We don’t fall asleep until the break of dawn. Josh’s body curls around mine. Our hands clasp together over my heart. We’re still in this position when my alarm rattles us awake an hour later. I roll over and turn it off, groaning with deep annoyance, and then roll back into him. I resettle against his chest. I sigh happily.
He moves my tentacle arms away from his body. “Mm, no you don’t,” he mumbles.
I give a tiny whimper.
“School,” he says.
“But you’re here. That’s not fair.”
He hugs me, despite himself. “I have to pick up my suitcase. It’s still in Meredith’s room at the hostel. And I wanna say goodbye to everyone before they leave.”
“Can’t I do that with you?”
Josh nuzzles his nose against my cheek. “I’ll be here when you return.”
“I fixed my door. You’ll need a key.”
“I’ll take good care of it.”
“What if I won’t give it to you?”
“Then I’ll break the door again.”
“This dormitory makes me feel so safe.”
He smiles and pushes me from the bed. “Gooooooooo.”
I force him to get ready with me. The building is loud and active now, so we can move around without tiptoeing. We shower and brush our teeth and dry our hair, and everything seems twice the miracle that it did in Barcelona. Because this time we know it can’t be taken away from us. This will be our future.
His clothes are still wet, so I dry his pants with my hair dryer and give him back the T-shirt that he gave me over Thanksgiving. It’s tucked inside one of my pillows. When he sees it, he looks sad and happy and amazed. “I thought you probably threw this away. I still sleep with the scarf you gave me.”
“I want that back, you know.”
“The scarf?”
I smile. “That shirt.”
Josh returns my smile as he pulls the shirt over his head. “I’ll give it back with extra me-scent.”