There’s only one honest answer I can give him. “The first time you kissed me, in the garden. It’s like you erased everything I ever felt for—”

He doesn’t let me finish. His face contorts into an almost animal snarl, a primordial expression of male possessiveness, and he kisses me, imprisoning my face between his hands and pressing his lips to mine with such passion I might faint. Thank goodness I’m already in bed.

We kiss for a long time, just like last night. But when he looks me in the eyes and tenderly brushes the hair away from my forehead, I know tonight is not going to be kissing-only. I haven’t been with a man in forever, and I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want Diego right now. My body wants him, my mind wants him… I want to give myself to him, and I want all of him in return.

Diego has been in my life only a short time, and we haven’t spoken about the future or where we stand with each other. But looking into the green of his eyes, I can’t help but trust him with all my heart, with all of my body, with everything that I am…

Making love to Diego is a soul-wrenching experience. It shatters me to pieces, before bringing me back together in his embrace. We make love all night until we’re both too exhausted to keep going, and we fall asleep clinging to each other.

When I wake up still wrapped in his arms, I experience a brief moment of pure ecstasy. Then a sheer terror engulfs me, making my chest clench under the pressure of its tendrils. I’m terrified that I’m flying so high I wouldn’t survive a fall. Terrified, because I realize I’ve fallen hard for a man I barely know. A man whose ideas on the future I ignore. Is he looking for a relationship? Does he want to get married? To have kids?

Okay, maybe I’m jumping the gun a little here. But I can’t get rid of the cloud of doubts circling my head even if nothing about last night feels like a mistake.

That’s why I sneak out of bed before he wakes up. I’m not sure he would’ve wanted to talk right away, but I’m too scared of learning the answers to all my questions. All I need now is to shower and clear my head first; we’ll have plenty of time to talk later. Now, I just want to be happy and cherish what happened.

Nineteen

Do You Hear What I Hear?

There’s a long-standing Moore tradition I need to submit to on the day after Christmas. Since we were old enough to be safely left alone in the kitchen, Julia and I have been in charge of lunch. With us busy preparing the food, our parents can spend the morning visiting their neighbors to exchange late best wishes. The tradition originated mainly to give Mom a rest after the cooking marathon of the previous day, but also because, since we’re basically rearranging scraps, it’s impossible even for the two of us to screw up the meal.