Page 43 of Pages of My Heart
“Let’s be home by seven,” Charlie suggests. He gives Thomas’s body a little squeeze. “Now sit up and I’ll wash your hair.”
Charlie gently massages the shampoo through his scalp, then tips his head back, and uses a bowl to rinse out the soap, taking care to protect his eyes from the suds. Charlie then washes Thomas’s entire body, tenderly and meticulously, dropping kisses to his skin as the remnants of the last three weeks are rinsed away.
In bed, they lay facing each other, bodies entwined as they whisper, lips almost brushing, sharing breath, warm and sweet. Thomas’s skin tingles, coming back to life, and the thick murky fog begins to lift from his thoughts. It’s late when his eyes begin to droop. The alarm clock on the nightstand tells him it’s a few minutes past midnight.
“Merry Christmas, darling.”
“Merry Christmas, sweetheart. Sleep now.”
And he does.
Chapter 25
July 1942
Charlie
“Hey, Miller, you better be joining us at Chez Paree tonight.” John gives him a friendly slap on the back. “Benny’s shipping out for basic in two days and we need to give him a good send-off.”
Charlie busies himself under the hood of the car. “I’ll do my best to get there,” he mumbles.
He tries to avoid spending after-hours time with his work buddies because they expect him to chase the ladies. And after all the fabricated stories he’s told them, it’s no wonder. But the longer he and Thomas are together, the harder it is to pretend and the more it eats away at his insides. He knows it’s the same for Thomas too—any romantic association with a woman, fake as it may be, feels like a betrayal of the vows they made.
“Jesus, Miller—you spend any more time at home with that roommate of yours, you’re gonna turn into a damn broad. Your wrist feeling a little limp lately?” John rocks on his heels, throwing his head back in laughter.
Charlie straightens up and glares at him, only to watch the man prance across the garage, hips swaying like a Hollywoodstarlet. John’s display is immediately noticed by George and Jack, who join in the laughter.
George lets out a long whistle. “Who’s the pretty lady?”
“Knock it the fuck off!” Charlie snaps, voice deep and loud. He drops his wrench to the garage floor and heads outside for a smoke, flipping the boys the bird on his way out.
It looks like he’ll have to put in an appearance tonight, and it’ll need to be convincing. Thomas isn’t going to like it, he muses. His eyes fall closed as he brings the cigarette to his lips. He’s not going to like it one bit.
Charlie’s eyes remain locked on Thomas’s as they stand silently on opposite sides of the kitchen. They’ve been arguing for the last fifteen minutes and have reached a stalemate.
He tries again. “Tommy, I need to go. I need to put a stop to it now while it’s still a joke.”
“And what the hell does ‘put a stop to it’ mean?”
Charlie crosses his arms over his chest and looks up at the ceiling, frustration mounting once more. “You know what it means, Tom. I gotta flirt with some girls. Say what I wanna do to ’em. That sort of thing. Everyone there is gonna be sauced, so it’ll be easy.”
“If it’s so easy, why can’t I go with you?”
“Jesus, Tommy! They’re makin’ fun of how much time I spend with you . . . about how much I talk about you! What’s it gonna help if I fuckin’ show up with you, huh? It’s my own damn fault and I need to fix it.” Thomas’s anger seems to wane, the irritation in his eyes replaced with worry. Charlie closes the distance between them and takes his hands. “It’ll be all right. And I’ll only be gone an hour or two. Don’t you trust me? I made vows to you, sweetheart, and I ain’t forgotten them.”
“I just—” Thomas’s chin dips, his shoulders slumping. “I hate the thought of you even pretending to want a girl. The thought of you . . . touching someone else . . . it makes me feel ill.”
Charlie shakes his head. “I ain’t gonna touch anybody. We’ve done this so many times before, why are you so against it now? We knew when we moved in together that we’d need to keep up appearances, right? You said so yourself.”
“Well I don’t want to keep up appearances!” Thomas stands up straight, eyes blazing anew. “I’m fucking sick of it! And normally we go on double dates. This is . . . different. Thisfeelsdifferent.”
“This ain’t even a date! I’m just going to some club with the boys. I’ll pretend I’ve got my eye on a girl and then I’ll come home. To you.” Charlie pulls Thomas’s body against his, sliding his hands around his waist and bringing their lips close. He looks up into Thomas’s eyes and then back to his lips, his mouth hovering, teasing, as the heat builds between them. “You can ravage me when I get home.”
There’s a possessive growl in Thomas’s throat, then Charlie is pushed backward under the force of a bruising kiss.
As Charlie looks around the club, he realizes just how much the war has changed everyone in six short months. There is a certain recklessness within people, a wildness that wasn’t there before. Everyone seems to drink more, to love more quickly, and to disregard the consequences more readily. It’s still pretty early in the evening, but the young women are already tipsy and eager to flirt with the men who have been drafted or have volunteered to sign up, especially those about to ship out.
Benny has a petite, wide-eyed blonde in his arms, whispering into her ear. Charlie is certain it’s only a matter of minutesbefore they go off somewhere to tangle their bodies together. He hopes it will help soothe the fear Benny doesn’t dare show. Charlie doesn’t quite understand the woman’s motivations, but he understands Benny’s.
