The Art of Starting Over

Chapter 38 - The Calm Before the Storm

At around ten o'clock, Millie excuses herself and retires for the night. She's visibly tired and I'm not surprised. She spent all day cooking and cleaning to impress, or maybe to intimidate, Keith.

"So," Keith starts, leaning forward on his chair. He puts his hands on my knees and my stomach does a neat lurch. "That could have gone worse, right?"

I hang my head, painfully remembering my grandmother's Jeremy James Cordina anthem. "She's usually very sweet but... well, you know what she's going through. And she's very protective of me. So, this was kind of a big deal for her. You're kind of the first boy I brought home."

"Apart from your boss."

"It's not like that," I tell him. "I never brought Jeremy home. He just... showed up. Millie knew him when he was a little boy and he doesn't get along well with his family so they kind of found each other. He's here for her a lot..."

"And for you, apparently."

It's impossible to ignore the resentment in his voice.

"Keith, it's not like that. We're nothing, we're not even talking at the moment so most of Nanna's words were directed at me, not at you."

Keith nods slowly as his hands cup my cheeks. "I don't want her to think I'm not good enough for you."

"She doesn't think that!" I respond a bit too quickly. 

He looks at me for a long moment before giving me a chaste kiss on the lips. "What do you say we open that merlot?"

I smile instinctively and go fetch the bottle. I open it, somehow managing not to tear the cork, and switch off the radio completely. I grab two wine glasses from the top cupboard and head for the living room. Keith follows me and plops himself on the couch beside me as I slosh the blood-red liquid into the glasses. When I turn to hand him his glass, I find him staring at me.

"What?" I ask running my tongue over my teeth to see if there is anything lodged in them. His eyes smoulder vividly under his romantic, honey-blonde locks. 

"You're so beautiful," he breathes after a while.

I feel myself going as red as the merlot in my hands. Once again, his directness catches me off guard. My mouth goes dry and without thinking, I take a large gulp from his wine glass that is still in my outstretched hand. He laughs softly and takes it from me. 

"You act like nobody has told you this before."

"Not a lot of people have," I say truthfully. One, to be exact. And he turned out to be a total jerk.

Keith observes me curiously as I try to push the memory of Jeremy sitting in the exact same spot while I told him about the jackass who broke my heart.

"Well, they're either blind or complete idiots," he mutters softly as he reaches out and rests his palm over the back of my neck. I feel my mouth curl into a smile. "I really like you, Ally."

I stare back at him, very conscious of how hungry his eyes have become. Before I can say anything, Keith plants a soft, slow kiss on my lips. The softest and slowest kiss I've ever been given. He pulls back about half an inch away from my face and I barely have time to breathe before he's back on my mouth, kissing me harder.

I feel the urgency in his fingertips as they move down my neck, down my back. I inhale, trying to get some oxygen to my brain, but all I get is more of him. Before I know it, I'm on top of him, straddling him, kissing him recklessly as though my life depends on it. I want his touch, his tongue, his occasional soft moans to engulf me, engulf everything inside my brain and replace it with blur. Millie, the fear of losing her. Jeremy, his absence. I block it all out and try to fill the void with him.