Page 15 of Save You
His words have my entire body rooted to the armchair, frozen in anxiety as I contemplate what he’s about to do. With my hands gripping my thighs, I watch him rise back up, cup my cheek with that warm, calming hand of his, then press his lips onto mine.
“Close your eyes, Mary! Goodness, have you two even kissed before?” Mrs Topple chastises me and I grin involuntarily against his lips before I obediently shut my eyes.
Tom’s hands gradually slide behind my waist and up my back, bringing his chest firmly up to my rather inflated one. My arms instinctively rise so I can link my fingers behind his neck as our mouths move against one another with a tender softness. He smells of musk, wood, and soap, with subtle scents of citrus fruit. As we kiss, his hands grip around the fabric of my hideous maternity dress, as though he’s desperate to get closer to me. It feels both weird and natural all at the same time, like we’re meant to be doing this, but it’s still a first time, and we don’t quite know how to navigate through it without endangering our friendship.
It feels like my heart has jumped into my throat when he shocks me by swiping his tongue along my lips, begging for me to let him in. I take a chance on something I’ve wanted to do for such a long time, and part my mouth for him. Our tongues swipe at one another gently, tasting one another with caution before he seems to fall further into it. The slight aroma of citrus fruit makes sense to me as I taste hints of orange on his tongue.
“Much better!” Mrs Topple claps her hands, the sound of which makes both of us jump apart in shock.
She begins to talk about kissing her husband, Percy, while we look at each other with confusion, silently asking one another what the hell that was. However, within a few, short moments, it is Tom who jumps up first, breaking all eye contact with an array of mixed emotions passing across his face. He awkwardly rubs his hand around his neck before making up some excuse to leave, though I couldn’t tell you what it was. I don’t even try to stop him when he marches out the room in hurried steps, leaving me feeling disappointed and having to pretend to listen to Mrs Topple and her memories of falling in love with an American soldier during the war.
“Mrs Topple?” I ask while rubbing my stomach, “What do contractions feel like?”
“A kind of tightening around the belly, gentle at first. Why, dear? Do you think the wee baby liked their mummy and daddy sharing a kiss?” she giggles with one of her cheeky winks.
“I think it might have done, yes.”