Previously:
Truly, instead of finding lots of convincing reasons why he shouldn’t love her and why they could never be together like that… she’d only confused herself more. Because the more she thought about it, the more it seemed like Clark Kent might just be…
Good for her? What she needed?
In the end, she’d decided not to think about it anymore. She’d pulled on those cream-colored jeans she’d thought about earlier and paired it with a soft burgundy top that always made her feel just a little sexy when she wore it. The sleeves were three-quarter length, the material soft and flowy. She knew the color looked good on her, and the neckline was suggestive without being revealing. A pair of diamond studs and a long, thin gold chain completed the ensemble, and, after a spray of her best perfume, she was ready to go.
Physically, anyway. Her head was still a mess, but she’d thought that she’d still have the ten-minute ride over to Clark’s to figure the whole thing out.
Until that was over, too… and she still wasn’t sure what she was going to say.
Which brought her to where she was right now, staring awkwardly at his front door, her hands shaking slightly as she raised one to knock. The soft sound echoed against the wood, and she stood there for a moment, frozen, afraid that he hadn’t heard her. It had been hard enough to do the first time; she didn’t want to have to knock again.
Just then, she heard footsteps against the landing. He opened the door swiftly, as if he was afraid she’d already disappeared because he had taken too long. Her name was a quick exhalation from his lips. “Lois.”
“Hi,” she whispered.
==========
And now, part 2:
“Hi,” he returned softly, and those two words didn’t do justice to the myriad of emotions she saw cross his face: surprise, excitement, nervousness, joy. Momentarily stunned by his expression, she fell silent. It was humbling, to say the least. She could tell right away how much this evening meant to him.
Say something else, her mind begged her. Anything else. Tell him you’re not here for the reason he thinks. Tell him you really can’t stay. Say something!
But nothing came out of her mouth.
He filled the silence. “Come on in. You look great,” he told her as he stepped aside to let her in. The look in his eyes took her breath away more than his words.
“Thanks. So do you,” she returned as she took in his appearance. He was dressed more casually as well, in dark-colored chinos and a slate blue oxford shirt, the sleeves rolled to just below his elbows. She swallowed hard, eyes searching for something else to concentrate on besides him. He couldn’t know it, of course, but she secretly loved those times at work when he’d roll up his sleeves; it was usually when they ended up staying late, holed up in the conference room, pouring over their latest investigation. Those rolled sleeves gave off this relaxed, yet confident, and – if she were honest – completely sexy vibe that she’d tried to distance herself from since the moment she met him. It hadn’t worked, however; ever since Clark had started working at the Planet, she’d spared those strong forearms more glances than she would care to admit to anyone.
She tried looking beyond him, into the apartment, searching for something else to say, to comment on. But when she saw the space and what he’d done, the words died on her lips, and all she could manage was, “Oh, Clark…”
He lifted the light spring jacket from where it was draped it over her left arm and hung it up on the coat rack. Then he took her purse and set it on the bench next to the coat rack. That task completed, he reached out and gently took her hands.
“I am so glad that you came.”
“Clark…” she tried again, but her words were swept away when he pulled her to him. The embrace was warm and solid, but nothing like the few hugs they’d shared as partners. This one was different; less guarded, more intimate. Lois could feel that intangible connection she shared with him make itself known, and it pulled at her heart.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I just want to memorize what it’s like to hold you.”
Her breath caught at his words, and she found she didn’t have any way to respond back to him, except to tighten her arms around him. All the things she’d thought about saying to him, all the speeches she’d prepared at her apartment… all of it went away, and all she could do was hug him back. It felt good, to be held by him. They’d been at such odds for the past few months, and her life in general had been in turmoil for the last several weeks… but here, now, in his embrace, she felt some of that dissipate.
She sighed against him, turning her head so that she could rest her cheek against the soft fabric of his dress shirt. “Clark, aren’t you tired? I’m tired of arguing, I’m tired of wondering about Lex, I’m tired about worrying whether I’m going to make the right decision. I haven’t slept a full night in weeks. I’m just tired,” she finished softly.
Silence slid through the apartment following her words, but she didn’t dare move back to look at him. She could feel him still, probably wondering what she was going to do next. Her emotions had been on such a roller coaster lately. She couldn’t blame him for thinking she was going off the deep end.
“I’m tired, too,” he whispered near her ear.
This time, Lois did pull back so that she could look at him. At her scrutiny, he dropped his arms, shuffling back awkwardly, assuming the moment was over. He reached over and shut the door with a soft click.
Lois watched him as he turned back to her. Her eyes traveled over his face, searching for the warmth that always radiated from him.
But it wasn’t there anymore. She hadn’t noticed it before, but there were lines across his face as well, creasing his normally flawless skin. His eyes themselves were troubled, almost as if he was on the verge of conceding defeat to some more powerful opponent. He looked battered and bewildered – a reflection, Lois suddenly realized, of her own weary state of mind. This whole situation with Lex and The Planet, plus the heaviness of this afternoon, had exhausted them both.
“Clark?” she asked in a small voice.
He met her gaze, silently giving her the signal to continue.
“Can we just forget about all of this, just for a minute? Can we just go back to being us? What if we just... I mean, what if I asked you to ...” she trailed off, unable to voice what she so desperately needed from him at that moment. She was just so afraid that he’d reject her or push her away. And he’d have every right to, given what she’d done to him today.
But that wasn’t who Clark was. All he did was nod and stretch his arms out for her again. She went back into them more than willingly. Her soft sigh flooded against his shoulder, her tears held just barely in check behind her eyelids. He’d known what she was too proud to ask for, fulfilled a need that she was too terrified to voice.
And deep in her heart, she knew that he would always know, because he was the one person on this earth who knew her better even than she knew herself.
His hand stroked the back of her head with slow, soothing motions, and she let herself begin to relax for the first time in a long time. She could feel him breathing, his body moving against hers. In response, she matched her own breathing to the rise and fall of his chest and shifted closer, melding them together, as if trying to draw strength from their bond, as fragile as it may be right now.
She needed this; she needed him.
It wasn’t a shocking revelation – perhaps she’d always known it on a purely subconscious level, but it was a wake-up call to acknowledge, even in her own mind, the fact that she needed Clark. He was incredibly special to her.
More so than even her would-be fiancé? Could she even imagine herself sliding into Lex’s arms like this when she needed comfort or support?
The truth was, she couldn’t. This feeling seemed reserved for Clark alone.
But right now, she didn’t want to think about any of that. She’d said she wanted to forget, if only for a moment, and that was what she was going to do. She inhaled deeply, concentrating all her energy on the man who held her, trying to feel the beat of his heart against her chest.
At least here, in the harbor of Clark’s arms, she felt safe.
After a long moment, she realized that too much time had passed; he’d held her far longer than allowed by the confines of friendship. She shifted, heat stealing across her cheeks as she realized that neither one of them seemed very eager to let the other go. He was in love with her…. but what was her excuse?
She forced herself to move away, ducking her head down while one arm reached up to tuck a stray hair behind her ear. What was she doing? She wasn’t supposed to be falling apart and falling into his arms at the first opportunity.
“So…” Desperately, she searched for something to say. “Your apartment looks really nice.” She turned and started down the stairs as she took a good look around at the decorations that had taken her breath away when she’d first arrived.
“Thanks.”
After she didn’t offer any more comment, he cleared his throat and followed her down into the living room. “I … uh, I made dinner, if you’re hungry. At first, I thought maybe I should take you out, but then I wasn’t sure if you were even coming, so making dinner reservations only to have to cancel seemed silly…” he trailed off, then seemed to gather himself and continue. “Anyway, I thought maybe it would just be nice to have a quiet night in, just us, since everything has been so crazy lately.”
She could tell he was a little nervous, which somehow calmed her own fears. He was right; here and now, it was just them. “It’s beautiful, Clark. You did so much… you didn’t have to.”
“Well, I wanted it to be nice. If this was the only time we’d… anyway, I wanted to make it special.”
And he had. He’d strung white lights around the perimeter of the living room and dimmed the lights, making the atmosphere seem soft and inviting. She noticed candles on his end tables and coffee table, plus a few more on the kitchen table. Only the kitchen lights shone brightly, presumably because he’d been cooking. Soft jazz music lit the background, adding to the cozy effect of the decor.
Lois couldn’t help but feel flattered that he’d gone to so much trouble for her. Now didn’t seem to be the time to start in on a conversation that was going to be difficult anyway. Maybe after they ate, she’d feel ready to tackle that “love” thing he’d said this afternoon. Plus, she’d eaten an early lunch and nothing since, so she was hungry. “Well, everything looks great,” she told him honestly. “And smells great, too… what’d you make?”
An easy smile lit up his face as it seemed to sink in for him that she wasn’t bolting from the room. “Spinach and mushroom risotto for the main course, but I also threw together a quick butter lettuce and herb salad on the side. Actually, I was just finishing up the lemon vinaigrette dressing when I heard you knock.” He started past her toward the kitchen, calling over his shoulder, “Why don’t you come have a seat? It’ll just be a minute.”
She followed him, sliding gratefully into the chair he pulled out for her. It was a little overwhelming, seeing what he’d done for her, even knowing that it might all be for naught; she could have chosen not to come tonight. He’d done it on blind faith that she’d show up at his door. No man had ever shown such belief in her. No man had ever done anything this romantic for her, either.
Sure, Lex had chartered his private jet to fly her to Milan for dinner, but what effort had that taken him? Maybe a phone call to his personal assistant, telling her exactly what he wanted? Mrs. Cox had probably then taken care of the plane, the pilot, the champagne, the reservations, hiring the musicians, all of it. Lex hadn’t had to lift a finger to take her halfway around the world. Idly, she wondered if Lex had even picked out the garish engagement ring he’d presented her with that night.
But Clark… she watched him from the corner of her eye over at the counter, measuring and mixing the ingredients for the salad dressing. Every part of tonight had been chosen by him, specifically for her. The intimate atmosphere that surrounded her, the music, the meal… had all been created by his hands. Clark couldn’t call on his personal chef for dinner; he’d spent the afternoon preparing dinner for a woman who’d hurt him mere hours before. That spoke volumes about his feelings for her; if she’d had any doubt before, it was gone now. Clark had been telling the truth out there on that park bench this afternoon: he loved her.
For in all of Lex’s extravagant gifts and dates, there had been one thing missing from their relationship that Clark Kent had already given her in spades: his effort. His time. Himself.
Her first dates with Lex had been about impression. He’d flaunted his wealth, his status, his far-reaching hand, all to impress her. There’d been parties and operas and charity dinners; he’d wined and dined her. But rarely had there been an opportunity to just sit down and talk, to get to know each other, to find out more about the man underneath the expensive suit he wore. Even when Lex had proposed and she’d questioned him about how little she really knew him… even then, he’d answered her with a smooth line about how all she needed to know about him was that he loved her.
But that wasn’t true; she did need to know more… much more. And a date like this was where she would find out those things. This was the kind of date she’d needed all along: a place to start to feel safe and comfortable with a person, a place where she could open up and share parts of herself that she kept hidden and ask about those parts of him that he kept from the world, too. And it was Clark, not Lex, that knew that. It was a startling revelation for her: while Lex had showered her with presents, all Clark Kent had ever wanted was her presence.
She picked up the water glass on the table in front of her, already filled, in much the same way Clark had filled her life over the last year: quietly, unobtrusively, already sitting there and just waiting for her to notice.
Should she have noticed? Was that love? And even if it was, would it last?
She sipped slowly as she watched him.
She wasn’t sure.
===========
Clark could feel her eyes on him as he poured a little of the lemon vinaigrette into the salad bowl and used tongs to toss it lightly. He wished he could tell what she was thinking; over the last year, he’d had the opportunity to witness what he thought were all her looks and moods, and usually, he could tell just by her body language how she was feeling. But tonight, he wasn’t sure.
He was grateful for the light jazz music easing out of the speakers in his living room, not simply because it added to the atmosphere, but because conversation had come to near halt in the last few minutes. He pretended to be busy with the salad, but really, he just needed something to concentrate on. She’d been quiet, seemingly lost in thought, since he’d sat her down at the table.
He wasn’t sure what to say, either. He’d promised himself that if she did come, he’d keep it as light as he could, even though he’d be dying inside that this would be the one and only time he’d get to treat her like a date. However, that notion had disappeared in their emotional embrace at the top of the stairs as soon as she’d entered his apartment. This was not going to be a light and easy evening at all.
He’d been happy to see her at his door; he’d hoped that she would come, but with Lois, nothing was a sure thing. But what had surprised him most was that she’d stayed so willingly in his arms. In fact, she’d been the one to initiate their second embrace; when he’d seen that vulnerable look in her eyes, he’d known exactly what to do. That instinct to comfort her urged him to reach for her again, and she’d come without hesitation, as if they’d done it a thousand times before.
Theirs was certainly a strange dynamic; first, she’d shot him down in the park this afternoon, but only a scant hour or two later, she’d clung to him for comfort and support. He’d hugged her because he’d known – he’d always known – that the natural place for her was in his arms, even if tonight might be the last few times he’d get to hold her. Sure, he might hold her again as Superman sometime when she needed help, but he’d never have the chance again as Clark. So when she’d walked through his door, he’d immediately pulled her to him, trying to imprint the way she felt against his body into his memory… but then instead of pulling away, she’d surprised him by burrowing into an even closer hug just moments later.
What had happened in the few hours since he’d seen her last was a mystery, but he didn’t want to come right out and ask; he didn’t want to spook her now that she was here, in his apartment. For now, he was on his date with Lois Lane, and he was determined to make the most of having her to himself all evening. There were no stories for them to focus on, no Jimmy barging through the conference room doors, no ringing telephones to command her attention, no Superman (so to speak) to catch her eye. In fact, he’d decided earlier this afternoon that Metropolis was going to have to get by on its own tonight, life-threatening disasters notwithstanding. If it could be handled by local law enforcement, it would be; his alter ego was taking the night off so that Clark could focus his attention on her.
Tonight was important to him. Tonight, the outside world could wait.
Turning around, he carried the salad bowl to the table and set it down. “Here we go. Dinner is served.”
“Th-thank you.” She cleared her throat slightly as he began to place the tossed salad on both their plates. He went back to the stove and grabbed the risotto – remembering to grab a pot holder for appearance’s sake – and then served that onto her plate as well.
The last thing he went to get was the crusty bread he’d been warming through in the oven. “Sorry,” he apologized as he sat down in the seat next to her. “I had to get the bread from the store; there wasn’t time to make my own.”
She looked over at him in surprise. “You make your own bread?”
“A lot of the time,” Clark said proudly, enjoying the impressed look on her face. “Mom made sure I knew it all – how to sew, can, and cook. I was never very good at the sewing – I can put a button back on if it comes off, but that’s about it – but I always enjoyed the cooking. It came in handy, too, when I went out on my own.” As he spoke, he took the seat across from her. “I bet I can teach you to make bread sometime.”
At that, she laughed. “I don’t think you realize how amusing that thought is. You’d better be one heck of a teacher.”
He flashed her a grin. “I’m pretty patient.”
He expected a retort in return, but all he got was a quiet, “Actually, you are.” Clark glanced at her and noticed that she had that look back in her eyes: the one where she was watching him almost as if she were seeing him for the first time. “You know, Clark, you surprise me sometimes.”
“Do I? Well, maybe there are a few things you don’t know about me, Lois.” He raised his glass toward her. “So… a toast? To discovering some new things tonight?” He knew it was risky, reminding her about the new thing he’d shared with her today, but contrary to what he’d told her in the park, he didn’t want tonight to be about a good-bye. Now that she was here, he realized that he’d invited her, truly, as last-ditch attempt to get her to see just how well they fit together, in all the ways that mattered.
She raised her own glass and tilted it toward his. “To discovering new things,” she echoed slowly, as if she were thinking about the meaning of the words. The soft clink reverberated through the kitchen as they brought their glasses to their lips.
It felt like an agreement. Clark sat back and relaxed a little, watching her take the first bite of her risotto. Her eyes closed briefly as she savored it. “Oh, Clark, this is so good. You really are a great cook.”
“Thank you.” He grinned, raising his own fork to his mouth. “I’m glad you like it.”
“I love it. I could never cook like this. You know how useless I am in the kitchen.”
“You don’t give yourself enough credit, Lois. You’re great with food. We both know you call for take-out so much better than I do.” He winked at her.
She laughed, and he could visibly see the muscles in her shoulders relax as she reached out and swatted him lightly across his shoulder. This was common ground for them; this teasing and laughing and enjoying one another’s company. This, they could do.
She surprised him, though, when her hand dropped from his shoulder and landed gently on his arm. “Thank you,” she whispered, catching his gaze and holding it. He was opening his mouth to respond to her when she took his breath away again by letting her hand trace down over his forearm to cover his hand. It was the most intimate touch she’d ever given him.
He wasn’t sure what she was thanking him for; for inviting her, for the meal, or for the way he’d teased her to make her feel more comfortable. It seemed like it could be any of those, but from the way her fingers traced softly over his knuckles, he sensed it was something greater even than all those things.
His response came so naturally that it would only be later that he would wonder where he’d gotten the courage: he turned his hand over so that their palms connected. Engulfed in his larger one, her hand seemed smaller than he’d thought it would; but then, he’d never held her hand this way. He never would have dared before, for this kind of touch spoke of feelings beyond partnership, beyond friendship.
“Anytime,” he whispered in return, squeezing her hand just the slightest bit. He watched, fascinated, as her gaze dropped to their joined hands, as if she was just realizing the way they looked: man and woman, holding hands over a romantic, candlelit dinner. He noticed her cheeks darken with the slightest bit of color, but his heart soared when she didn’t pull away. Feeling bold, he gave her one final caress with a sweep of his thumb across her fingers. His super hearing didn’t miss the catch in her breath before he let go.
He smiled at her, and she returned it with a soft smile of her own. Clark knew he was going to have trouble eating any of his dinner tonight; he found himself just wanting to watch her in the candlelight, loving the way it played over her cheeks and reflected in her eyes. She was beautiful tonight, and even though he knew it probably wasn’t true, he wished that she’d done it for him.
He secretly loved it when he got to see her like this – more casual and laid back, letting him see a side of her that she rarely showed to the outside world. It made him feel closer to her. Was she feeling closer to him, too? From the way she’d hugged him when she arrived and the way she’d taken his hand just now, it seemed that she was… dare he hope that maybe her feelings for him weren’t as clear as they’d seemed in the park this afternoon?
His heart grabbed at the possibility and held tight, just like she’d held his hand a moment ago. If that was even the slightest bit true, he knew he couldn’t let her leave without talking to her again. But for right now, she was looking more at ease than he’d seen her in days, so he just smiled again and said, “If you like this though, you should see what I made for dessert. I promise it’s better than a Double Fudge Crunch Bar.”
She looked skeptical but intrigued. “I’ll be the judge of that. What is it?”
“You’ll see later.” At her indignant “Clark!” he just laughed and took a bite of his own dinner. Cocooned in warmth of this time and this place, he wished fervently that the evening would never come to an end.
==========
The rest of dinner passed easily, and they chatted about everything but Lex, the Planet, and LNN. It was like those events weren’t even part of their lives. She asked about his parents, the farm, his childhood. He told her stories of herding cattle, raking hay on hot summer days, grabbing dinner with his friends at the town pizza joint. “I was a legend,” he boasted good-naturedly. “To this day, I’m still the only person to eat a Messina’s pepper pizza without drinking anything. That thing had every pepper on the planet on top of it – sweet, hot, you name it, it was on there. I downed two of them the night we won States.”
She burst out laughing. “That sounds disgusting! I’m sure you never gained an ounce from it, either.” At his sheepish grin, she just rolled her eyes. “Some people have all the luck.”
“I was seventeen, Lois. And a football player!” came the ready defense. She grinned at him, enjoying the small little glimpse into Clark Kent’s teenage years.
In turn, he asked her about her years at Metropolis High, seemingly just as eager to learn about her as she was about him. She talked about running around with Julie and working on the “The Lion’s Den,” their school newspaper, barely making deadlines and paste-up sessions that lasted well into the night as they put the paper to bed. “It was high school in the mid-eighties, so none of that fancy stuff yet.” She’d laughed. “A few Commodore computers, grid paper, light tables, a bunch a glue, and in the end, you just hoped the articles stayed straight when it went to print.” He’d grinned knowingly, some of their memories shared, even though they’d worked on high school papers several hundreds of miles apart.
They were clearing the table when the conversation finally walked the inevitable path back to their recent time at the Planet.
“You know, the first time I walked into that building, it felt like home,” Lois said as she handed him her plate. “I was 22 and looking for my first reporting job. At the time, they weren’t hiring, even though I’d done part of my internship there. But I went back every day until Perry finally agreed to interview me. I think he did it because I was driving him nuts just hanging around out front.”
Clark laughed, rinsing the plate before setting it down in the sink. “I think Perry was just humoring me when he met me for the first time. I’m pretty sure he didn’t think I had it in me to be a big city reporter.”
Lois smiled, too. “Well, I hate to admit it now, but I agreed with him; I thought you were a bit of a hack when he hired you. That first time we worked together? I didn’t want a partner, let alone one from Smallville, Kansas.” She bumped his hip with hers as she watched him reach for the dish detergent. “Here, let me wash. You cooked.”
“Yeah, you made that clear when hit me in the arm and started laying down the rules within the first 15 seconds,” Clark returned, pulling the bottle of detergent away from her questing hand.
She bit her lip and grinned at him, unrepentant as always. “I had to let you know who was in charge.” They played tug-of-war with the bottle for a moment before Lois finally gave him a look that clearly said she wasn’t backing down. “Speaking of which…let go, Clark. You can dry if you want, but I’m washing the dishes.”
Knowing when to give in, Clark pulled back both his hands, holding them up in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. You know, I was going to mention the first time I won an argument with you. But…” He paused dramatically. “…then I remembered that never happened.” There was a glimmer in his eye and a smile on his lips as he opened a drawer to the left of the sink.
Momentarily struck by that gorgeous smile, she blinked, but her recovery was quick. She stuck her tongue out at him and reached down into the drawer first, grabbing a towel off the top of the pile. She threw the dish towel at him, and he reached a hand up to block it, catching it just before it hit him right in the face. “Just dry, Kent.”
They worked in companionable silence for a bit, their thoughts whirling in time with the swish of the water as Lois washed their plates and bowls, along with the pots and pans Clark had used as he’d cooked their meal. “You know, I still can’t believe it’s really gone,” Lois finally said.
“What?” Clark asked, still lost in his own thoughts.
“The Planet.” Lois sighed. “I keep waking up every morning, thinking it was all some sort of nightmare, and everything’s going to go back to normal. And then I remember that everything’s changed.”
“I know. I hate it, too.”
“I mean, we didn’t even get to be partners for a full year,” she said, her tone reflective. “I keep thinking of all the investigations we didn’t get to do, all of the stories we didn’t get to write… all the things we never got to do together.”
“Almost a year wasn’t long enough,” Clark agreed. “I feel like we had so many things left to accomplish.” He paused. “And actually, I was looking forward to a lot of ‘firsts’ with you, Lois.” He held her gaze as he finished his thought. “Our first Kerth, our first Pulitzer…” his voice softened. “Our first date… our first kiss.”
She blushed and looked away, and the light atmosphere they’d created during dinner shifted into something bigger and started filling the space between them. He must have noticed, because he immediately backtracked. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I know we’re not exactly on the same page with our feelings. It just slipped out… maybe my mind figures there’s nothing to lose anymore.” He chuckled, but it sounded hollow and more self-conscious than anything else. “I mean, I know you never thought about kissing me, but let’s just say kissing you crossed my mind a time or two, and leave it at that, shall we?” He grinned at her, obviously trying to play down his words.
She tried to look busy, drying her hands off and rearranging the pots on the drying rack. “It’s fine… we’ve kissed before, anyway. Trask’s plane and then in the honeymoon suite at the Lexor, remember?” Her response was matter-of-fact, intended to make him think she was still comfortable, still in control… that her heart hadn’t immediately skipped a beat at his confession that he’d spent time thinking about kissing her.
He shook his head. “No, I mean a real kiss, not just an undercover one.” The tone of his voice changed, becoming just the slightest bit wistful. “Not that those kisses weren’t great, but… I guess I always wondered what it would be like if it was for real. I’ll admit I spent more time thinking about it than I probably should have.” Another rueful grin followed; she caught this one because she’d finally dared to glance back at him.
“So… what’d you think it’d be like?”
Flushing slightly, her gaze darted away from him again, surprised at herself that she’d even asked the very personal question. It had passed her lips before she could stop it. Darn the reporter in her… couldn’t she leave anything alone, especially something like this? She needed to change the subject, not ask for more details!
He raised an eyebrow at her question, but didn’t comment. “Most of the time it came at the end of our first date.” His gaze shifted beyond her, a faraway look in his eye, and she knew he was seeing something she hadn’t ever thought to look for: their future. “One day – I was planning on sometime soon – I was finally going to gather up the courage to ask you out. I knew you’d probably go back and forth about your answer for a little while, trying to decide if it was worth risking our partnership, but… I was hoping you’d decide that the possibility of something great outweighed the chance of losing what we already had. I was hoping you’d say yes, and I could take you out – maybe a nice restaurant, maybe a concert… I don’t know.” Clark shrugged his shoulders before continuing.
“In my mind, it wouldn’t matter what we did, because we’d be together. I had this vision of walking you home – all the way to your door, even though you’d probably tell me you didn’t need me to – and just before you stepped inside your apartment, I’d reach for you, like this.” He transferred the towel to his other hand and stretched out his right hand, just grazing her cheek. She stilled at his touch, every muscle suddenly frozen at the contact of his skin. “I’d look into your eyes, trying to convey everything I was feeling that I couldn’t put into words. And then, I’d lean down because I couldn’t wait one more second to feel your lips against mine. Our first real kiss,” he whispered, and his eyes flicked down to her mouth.
Lois stared at him, drawn into the imaginary world his words had painted. She pressed her lips together, feeling their sudden dryness. It felt like all the moisture in her mouth had drained down through her arms to coat her palms. She slid her tongue quickly across the seam of her lips, swallowing hard as she watched his eyes follow the movement. Had he left the stove on? It was suddenly hotter in the kitchen.
All this talk about kissing was bringing up some memories she’d thought she’d buried months ago. The last time he’d kissed her had been in the honeymoon suite, and it came back in a rush now. She remembered the hard sensation of his body pressing her into the mattress, contrasting the softness of his lips. The gentle touch of his hand against her cheek – like it was now – even while his mouth devoured hers. That timeless moment when her own lips had begun to tentatively respond and explore against his. The fact that it had all been over far too quickly.
And if that one hasty kiss had left such an impression on her, what would a real kiss from him be like? The impulse to find out hit her with such force she grabbed at the edge of the counter to keep her balance.
“Go ahead,” she blurted out.
He dropped his hand, his confusion clear in the furrow across his forehead as he tried to process her words. “What?”
“That kiss,” she whispered, unable to help herself. Her voice had suddenly gone hoarse. She tried to clear her throat. “The one you imagined… go ahead. Try it.”
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tbc
