Here the Whole Time(54)
I don’t know at what point this happened, but I let my hand fall off the side of my bed, and Caio interlaced his fingers with mine. We’re in the dark, holding hands, staring at the ceiling, and saying anything that pops into our heads.
“Counting you, I’ve kissed two mouths in my life,” Caio informs me. “So far, you’re way ahead. The other one was the biter.”
“Denis.” I nearly whisper the name of the first guy Caio kissed. Which, if you stop to think about it, is a pretty creepy thing to do this late at night.
“You remember his name?” Caio laughs.
“I’m good with remembering names,” I answer, even though that’s not true. I think I just have a good memory for resentment.
“No need to be jealous of Denis. I haven’t talked to him since then. And like I said, you were better,” Caio says, trying to steer the conversation in a different direction.
“I’m not a jealous guy,” I say, but deep down, I think I am.
What has this kiss done to me that I can’t stop lying for one second?
“It’s a funny thing,” he says. “We just kissed today, and we’re already talking about jealousy. That’s not right. There must be something else between the first kiss and the first bout of jealousy.”
“Probably a little more kissing,” I joke, but Caio doesn’t need any more to jump into my bed.
In the dark bedroom, he catches me by surprise and squeezes himself between me and the edge of the bed. The first three seconds are a hot mess because he tries to kiss my mouth but first hits my nose and chin.
When our lips finally meet, I’m certain I want to do this every day. But then Caio hugs me, and his hand touches my hips, and I know it’s time to stop.
I have to say, kissing in the movies is very different from kissing in bed, in total darkness. Here in my bedroom, Caio kisses me intently. I try to kiss him back in the same way, but my mind is on full alert because there are parts of my body he’s not allowed to touch. That no one is allowed to touch.
His hands slide up and down my hips. I furtively try to keep my T-shirt in place. I pull it down on one side, he pulls it up from the other, and all of a sudden, kissing Caio is almost exhausting.
When our lips separate, I’m breathless. I need more training to synchronize kissing and breathing. Caio runs his hand down my face, which sends shivers down my neck, and before he can say anything, I say, “I’m not ready yet.”
Caio looks confused. “Ready for what?”
“Oh, for god’s sake, Caio! Don’t make me say it.”
“To be in a relationship?” he asks.
“No! To have sex!” I say, almost whispering the last word.
“Are you afraid your mom is going to walk in on us?”
“No, my mom isn’t the problem,” I say. “She’d probably throw a pack of condoms our way and bring some juice after we were … done.”
Caio laughs and runs his fingers through my hair, and I discover that, after the kiss, this is the best thing I’ve felt today.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to go all the way today. I was just excited and got ahead of myself. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I’m sorry. For real.” He says all of that propped on my left arm, looking me in the eye.
I’m living through one of the most surreal moments of my life, and I feel like diving completely into it. But usually diving completely into it means letting the other person touch you, and I don’t know if I’m ready for that.
“It’s okay. I just need a little more time,” I say, running my hand through his hair, too, the way I’ve already done a couple hundred times before in my imagination. “In the meantime, we can do a lot of other stuff together.”
“Like what?”
“Like go on a date, I don’t know. Talk about everything, get to know each other better,” I say, trying to use everything I’ve learned from all the rom-coms I’ve watched in my life.
“Felipe, technically, I’ve been going on a date with you for thirteen days now.”
“And there are two more to go,” I say, with a smile that I’m not sure he can see in the darkness of the room.
“Actually, just one more. My parents come back on Friday morning,” he says.
I know it doesn’t make a difference which day he’s leaving because we live in the same apartment building, but I can’t help but feel sad. Because it won’t be the same when he goes back to apartment 57. I’ll miss his company. I’ll miss sleeping like this, really close to him. I’ll miss grabbing his hand and placing it on my face, because I don’t want him touching anything from my neck down (which, by the way, is exactly what I’m doing right now).
“I’m sorry if I made things weird,” I say.
“I’m sorry if I pushed your boundaries,” he says.
“I’m sorry I’m such a weirdo.”
“I’m sorry if I made you feel like a weirdo.” Caio’s voice now sounds more urgent. “You are not weird. You are incredible.”
Don’t fall in love with someone who doesn’t make you feel beautiful, my mom said this morning. I still don’t feel beautiful when I’m with Caio. But in this moment, I feel incredible. And it’s a really great feeling.