Ghosts (A Christian Yelich Story)

Chapter Twenty-Four: More Slowly

I got out of bed before Christian and decided to take a long shower before breakfast to help me wake up. For the past few days, I've been lacking a lot of energy. It was probably the late nights combined with the early morning sex calls. Probably not an ideal mix of factors for healthy sleep . . .

I was washing my hair when I heard a light tap on the shower door. "Can I come in?" Christian asked. He sounded unsure of himself.

"Sure," I said softly.

After a brief moment, Christian opened the glass shower door just enough to step in. He looked good, as always.

"Didn't you take a shower last night?" I teasingly asked him as he stood in front of me under the deluge.

"Yeah, but not with you," he replied before looking me up and down and then pulling me in for a kiss.

"You're such a nerd," I said against his lips. He smiled.

We stood in silence for a few moments before Christian spoke up again. "I am so sorry about yesterday. I'm still embarrassed."

I wasn't used to men being apologetic, but it didn't matter much if he didn't follow through on the apology. "Let's just focus on today."

"What if I want to focus on more than just today?" he asked, running a hand through his now soaking wet hair.

"What do you mean?" He looked worried. I seemed to make him worried a lot.

"What about after all of this?" He was still nervously toying with his hair. God, I loved his stupid hair.

"What do want to happen?" I was confused. I figured this was just a sex arrangement until he was able to get back to his usual groupies. It was all just to make each other feel good in the moment.

"I want to date you. That's why I asked you on a date," he said firmly.

"I don't think I'm the type of girl you'd like to date long term." My voice was quiet. "Just for a night is probably best for you."

"What does that even mean?" There was hurt in his voice again, and I hated it.

"I'm introverted and a bit obnoxious. I'm not a model. I constantly make bad jokes. I'll never be around to cook for you or wait on you after games. I travel a lot . . ."

He cut me off. "Do you like me?"

"Yes, I like you."

"And I like you, so that makes you the type of girl I want to date. I like your jokes. I find you so fucking sexy that I can't stop thinking about all the dirty things I want to do to you. I'm attracted to the fact you're independent and kind. I've never been this infatuated with anyone before." He paused. "Jesus, that was a lot."

"We could really hurt each other, Christian. In fact, it's likely. Is that what you want?"

He shrugged. "It'd hurt just as bad not to try."

"Like I've said before, let's see how our off-day date goes and talk about this after that?"

He sighed. "That's fair, I guess. Do you feel anything? Anything at all?"

I looked him directly in the eyes. "Of course I feel something. I'm just careful — a really cautious person."

"We can be careful." This time he sounded self-assured. He pulled me against him and kissed me more aggressively than before. "I like you so fucking much," he muttered, pressing his forehead against mine.

I just kissed him back because I was terrified that I was going to mess this all up. I was good at saying all the wrong things when my anxiety was in overdrive.

"Can I make love to you right now?" He sounded so sincere, but the question and use of the word love caught me off guard. I had to remind myself it was just a term people threw around, and there wasn't a deeper meaning.

I gave him a shy smile. "Make love?"

"Uh . . . I mean I want to show you how I feel about you via sex. And stuff."

"How's that different than the last few early mornings?"

"I go more slowly," he said, laughing at himself a little.

"I'd like that," I whispered.

"Let's get to it then," he whispered back.