He promised that he’d come over and help her unpack. She’d had the boxes packed neatly for the move from Stamford, but from the hotel to the apartment, she’d just been shoving things where they would fit.

            “Karen, you’d give Martha Stewart a heart attack if she saw you packing like that.” He stood with his hands on his hips and cocked his head to the side.

            “I don’t think packing is a domestic thing. I’m pretty sure big heavy boxes and rolls of tape are Mr. Stewart’s job.”

            “Well, I’d help, but you know that I’d end up snooping through your stuff. You wouldn’t want me to come across something embarrassing and personal, maybe sexual,” he added quickly, “and then be forced to tease you about it.” He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching her.

            “Jim, you already know that I keep all that stuff in the nightstand,” she brushed her bangs out of her eyes. She’d have tried to find a headband somewhere if she didn’t already know it was pointless to search for anything in this room. They fell back into her eyes almost immediately and she swiped them away again.

            When she looked up, she saw that he had moved; now he going though the drawers of the oak nightstand beside the bed.

            “You lied to me,” he held up the Bible, the only thing that was in the drawer.

            “Well, I always pack my valuables first,” she winked. He frowned dramatically.

            “If that was a direct remark about my sexual abilities then you had better amend that or you’ll only have your valuables.”

            She considered it for a minute. “No, I think I meant what I said,” her eyebrows jumped and she smiled deviously.

            “Okay, that’s it,” he grabbed her around the waist and spun her down onto the bed on top of a pile of clothes yet to make it in a box.

            He made quick work of their clothing and she sighed as he pushed into her. One of her legs bent at the knee and she pressed her foot into the bed for leverage. The mood had changed quickly and they weren’t laughing anymore, but there was still a faint smile on his lips.

            “Karen,” she loved the way he breathed her name into her ear, the way he buried his head in her hair. Times like this, when it was just them, he would pant and sigh into her shoulder, and times like the other night, after a few beers and some late night movie on one of the pay channels, when he would grunt and bite and whisper curse words like they were commands.

            He kissed the corner of her mouth down her jaw and her neck and he was just heavy enough that she wasn’t able to really maneuver when he was on top of her, but she could nip at his collarbone and run her fingers through his hair and out of his eyes so she could watch him, his mouth falling open to accommodate his breathing.

            He slipped his fingers down between them, pushing against her (not directly on her clit, but just above it, like she’d showed him shyly the first time he’d done this, before they were sleeping together and he’d just really wanted to watch her, had begged her to let him watch her, and then cautiously she’d let him try himself. She was kind of amazed he’d remembered, most guys didn’t and they’d go right for it, and she’d end up numb and unsatisfied, telling them to just stop).

            “Jim,” her hips arched into him and he was still rocking into her. She saw him smiling down at her and feels his fingers slow. She whimpered at the tight, heavy burning that resonated with the loss of speed.

            “Are you going to take it back?” He kissed the corner of her mouth again, her cheek, the corner of her eye, into her hairline.

            “You know you’re better,” she stared him in the eyes. (He did know, she’d told him once when they were both a little past drunk and lying on his living room floor. He laughed at her comment, told her it was a little bit out of the blue, but his eyebrows wiggled suggestively. “Now don’t let it go to your head.” Later that night, he’d gone down on her for the first time. Turned out, he was pretty good at that, too.)

            He chuckled and started moving his fingers faster. He was breathing harder when she started to tighten around him, and then when she was bucking her hips gently upwards against his hand.

            “Harder,” she whispered, and when he added just a little more pressure, she felt it start deep inside of her and then she was coming fast and powerfully, a deep groan rumbling from her chest.

            He pressed his face into her shoulder, feeling her breasts brush his chest as she arched into him with her orgasm. “Karen,” he whispered it again, pulling his hand away from her supporting himself with faster thrusts.

            She gasped when he pushed in, still sensitive, feeling the tiny aftershocks pulsing through her. He thrust into her one last time, deeper than before and she knew he was coming, could feel the throbbing.

            He was usually quiet when he came, gasping a few times and tensing up; this time he got out the first syllable of her name before going completely silent and collapsing on top of her, panting.

            She was the first to speak, maybe five minutes later. “You’re crushing me,” she giggled when he relaxed more, pushing her further into the bed. “Hey!”

            He lifted up and smiled at her, slipping out of her gently and looking for their clothes.

            “I can’t tell what we were wearing and what you had already laid out here,” he looked around at the piles of clothes.

            “I think that one with the wet spot was your t-shirt,” she blushed a little.

            “Oh, well, I still have my undershirt from before here, right? That one I left?” They stood slowly and started looking through the piles on the bed.

            “Here it is!” She held it up triumphantly. Considering the current state of her room, it really was kind of amazing that she’d found it.

They got dressed and surveyed the damage done to her work clothes strewn over the bed. “Oh, they’re all wrinkled.” She scrunched up her nose and grabbed as much as the pile as she could before dropping them into the box at her feet.

            “And so you’re thinking, what, that shoving them in there like that was going to iron them out?” He lifted one of the balled up blouses for her examination.

            “Well, they’re only going to be like this for about 10 minutes till I can get to the apartment. If you could just stop distracting me!” She shoved him playfully and handed him the box to take to her car.

            “Sorry, I had to prove myself.”

            She laughed at his words and her nose crinkled slightly. He smiled at her with something like wonder and she felt herself flush.

“Hey,” he looked down at his feet and then back up at her, hesitantly.

            “What, now that you got sex you’re not even going to help?” She brushed her bangs out of her eyes yet again and winked.

            “I just…,” he sighed wistfully and her smile faded some.

            “You okay?” Her brows knit together and she watched him as he swayed from foot to foot.

            “I think I might love you,” he blurted it out in a rush, bit his lip and watched her face for a reaction. She looked scared, happy, confused. A little bit like how he felt.

            Her voice died in her throat, unsure of what to say. He set the box down again and walked towards her, holding her face in his hands, he bent down to kiss her.

            “I--,” she could hear the waiver in her voice and coughed, closed her eyes and tried to think of what to say to him. Something that was the truth.

            “Sorry,” he let his hands drop to her shoulders and bowed his head. “Maybe that wasn’t--,” he trailed off.

            “Tell me again, when you’re sure.” She chose her words carefully, placing her hand on top of his. She didn’t want to admit so soon that his words made her insides flutter in way that they hadn’t in a long time. It was the smile in her voice that led him to look back at her.

            “Okay,” he looked somewhat embarrassed, but he was smiling. She wrapped her arms around his neck and stood on her tip-toes to kiss him.

            “Now, let’s get this crap to my car, huh?” He laughed into her hair and nodded.

            Jim picked the box back up and winked at her as he walked out the door, onto the balcony that led to the stairs.

            As it turned out, he didn’t ever say it again, but it was those six words that kept Karen holding on even when everything around her was screaming at her to just bail now while she still might not want to say it back; six words that kept her thinking ‘maybe one day he actually will.’