Читать книгу Let's Get Lost - Adi Alsaid - Страница 13

6

HUDSON LISTENED FOR noises beyond his own pounding heart. They were lying on the ground, his back pressed against the cool earth. Leila was tight against him, her skin warm and her breathing slow and deep and smelling of an alcoholic sweetness. Her head was resting on his shoulder, her hand still in his.

They’d taken cover where some fallen trees had landed on a little hill, creating a nook that, as it turned out, was just big enough to hide two people. They’d heard the guys get into the boat, the splash of the oars as they rowed away. Some moments later there’d been some unintelligible, muffled shouting. More than three voices, definitely. He and Leila had decided to stay hidden for a while, and that was fifteen minutes earlier. Now Hudson had been lying next to her for long enough to forget the danger and briefly hope that his life could continue simply the way it was. That tomorrow would be a day just like today, with the garage and Leila. Dinner with his dad in their backyard, nothing urgent to say to each other. He wished that could be every day.

Thinking about his dad stirred in Hudson a deep pang of shame and regret that he’d snuck out of the house, been deceptive. Then Leila squeezed his hand, and all his reservations disappeared.

Grass and leaves damp from the humidity clung to his arms. A barn owl screeched somewhere on the island. She looked up at him. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to keep you out this late. I think I’m good to swim back across now. Let’s get you home.”

“No,” he said. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” He put his arm on her back, his fingers coming to rest at the base of her neck, massaging gently.

She smiled and shuffled closer to him, leaning her head against his shoulder. “You’re not worried about the interview?”

“No. I’ll make it on time. Right now I just want to stay here with you.”

Leila curled up against him, her head on his chest, one leg over his lap. When he put his arm around her and they settled into each other, the comfort was so overwhelming that he thought he might fall asleep on the spot. He kept his eyes on the stars until they brought to mind the Northern Lights, at which point he looked down at Leila.

He’d never really done this before, just being close to someone. But this was something people never had to learn, never had to study for. Or, no, that wasn’t quite right. This was like fixing an engine. All you needed was to find the right parts and put them together, watch them click into place.

He ran his arm up and down her back, slipping his hand beneath her shirt, exploring her skin with his fingers. It was more as if her skin were leading his fingers around, as if he had no option but to trace the lines of her shoulder blades, to follow the lace of her bra down the strap toward the clasp. His hand lingered there for a second, then, beckoned by her skin, it moved to the open expanse of her lower back, the faint dimples there, the soft curve of her hip. He rested his hand right there, the tip of his fingers at the edge of her shorts.

How long this went on for, Hudson couldn’t tell. He pictured his cell phone in Leila’s car, imagined his father calling over and over. But having Leila there instantly quelled his anxieties. She’d run her fingers through the hair by his temples, massaging his scalp. Or she’d shift her leg, and he’d feel the warmth of each other’s skin go to new, fresh places. As long as she was there and not driving north and away from him, he was happy.

“Tell me a story,” she said, the words spoken right into his chest, so he could feel her lips pulling away from and sticking a little to his skin.

“What kind of story?”

“I don’t know. Anything. A bedtime story.”

He was about to say that he didn’t know any stories, but instead he said simply what he was feeling. “This is the greatest night of my life, I think.” He paused and let the Mississippi air fill in the background noise as he gathered his thoughts. “Up until now my greatest moment was last year, when this old car my dad and I were restoring finally started. Or the time when I was five, at the park. I don’t remember much from the memory except for the fact that I had fallen and was in pain. Then, out of nowhere, my dad came in and picked me up, almost as if I were weightless. I remember how happy and relieved I was.

“But this,” he said, emphasizing by pressing Leila closer to him, if such a thing was possible. He could feel her skin filling in the gaps between his ribs, the hollows his hip bones created. “This is the highest peak I’ve ever reached.”

He let some time pass, focusing on nothing but her in his arms. Then he leaned his neck toward her and kissed the top of her head. He kissed her softly, not because he wanted anything, but because he could no longer keep the kiss to himself. Without a word, she turned to him, and before he could think to do anything else, her lips were on his.

They kissed madly, like people who’d been waiting for it much longer than they had. Their bodies seemed to understand each other; their lips parted at the same time, their tongues moved in sync, their hands knew exactly when to grasp on to one another and when to explore elsewhere. Hudson wasn’t sure whether it felt better to touch her or be touched by her, and he didn’t care to decide.

He was vaguely aware of the night sky, the plentiful stars, the sound of the river and whatever life it contained. They rolled on the earth, and Hudson was aware of the ground only in that it was outside of them, that it was colder than the two of them, conscious of the occasional pebble or scratch of grass. Aside from those minute details, his world was entirely Leila.

* * *

When they finally stopped kissing, Leila curled herself against him, her head on his chest, one leg stretched across his lap. Hudson was certain that he was grinning like an idiot, but he didn’t care anymore.

“Can I ask you a question?” She spoke softly. Not a whisper, exactly, but the kind of tone Hudson had always imagined people used when there was someone in bed with them. Close, intimate, the words not having to work hard to reach the other person.

“Sure.”

She hesitated and brought up her hand to his jawbone, running her fingers from his chin to the spot behind his ear. “Why do you want to be a doctor?”

The question surprised him, not just because of the moment but because he couldn’t actually remember anyone ever asking him before. “Um, I don’t know,” he said. “I just do.” A mosquito buzzed past his ear, and he halfheartedly swatted at it. “I think I’ve been working for it long enough to forget the moment I made up my mind.”

“Well, if you remember, let me know,” she said, moving her hand to his chest and kissing his breastbone, then propping herself up on one elbow and studying his face. After a while she said, “You don’t regret coming here with me?”

“Not even a little,” he said. “I’m really glad I met you, and there is nowhere else I’d rather be.”

She smiled that smile of hers, the smile that he knew he’d be comparing other smiles to for the rest of his life. Then she kissed him, slow and deep, not as hungry as before but just as rich. “Good,” she said, and she repositioned herself, her face buried against his neck. Every now and then he’d feel the tickle of a hurried kiss on his skin, and he’d think of it as a kiss she couldn’t keep to herself.

“I’m glad I met you, too,” she said. “I sort of can’t believe I did, this early on my trip. I was expecting something great to happen. Just not this.”

“Something like what?”

Leila shifted against him, kissed the back of his hand. “It doesn’t matter right now. I’ve got this.”

One of Hudson’s hands rested on Leila’s waist; the other held her hand. He looked up at the stars in his Mississippi sky, thinking to himself that he never wanted to leave. A sigh escaped his lungs, a deep, gratifying sigh that might as well have been the first breath he ever took. Then, feeling the weight of Leila against him, unable to keep a smile from his lips, Hudson closed his eyes.