Lying in bed with Jack, Caitlin was glowing in the afterlight of a night full of stars and fireworks. She could not believe how good she felt, how full of joy and excitement. 'I never thought sex could so...fulfilling,' she thought with wonder. 'I never thought that I could feel so free, so sexy, and so comfortable.'
She enjoyed Jack's gentle teasing after lovemaking. Snuggled up next to him in the cozy comfort of the RV's bed, listening to the rain spattering on the roof, she thought she could definitely get used to this. Traveling across the country with Jack, popping into town after town, city after city, exploring this great country -- the idea was extremely appealing to her. She was looking forward to getting to know him better, and of course she was looking forward to more sexual adventures. Jack was an amazing lover, making her feel things that she hadn't even dreamed were possible. He made her want to explore herself, explore him. She was discovering a whole new side to herself, and she loved it.
Jack's blue eyes were sleepy, his brown hair tousled, and the blue sheets were tangled around his waist in a way that showed off his powerful chest. She had trouble keeping the smile off of her face as she looked at him, and she giggled as he joked about her sexual appeal.
His eyes were half-closed as he was drifting off, and he mumbled, "Have you figured out that I love you yet?"
She felt the smile fall from her face as she gaped at him. He sat up fast, panic written across his face.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that," he said, his voice high and quick with concern.
She lowered her head, red curls falling across her face as she tried to decide how to respond. She just wasn't prepared to deal with this -- love? He loved her? After a few hours? Was he playing her? She tried to imagine losing him after hearing that he loved her -- she had promised herself that she would never let anyone hurt her again. The mere thought of being hurt by Jack after he professed his love broke her heart -- how badly would it hurt if it actually happened? The silence stretched out into an eternity.
Jack's expression was pinched with worry, but he remained silent. He didn't want to push her, and certainly didn't want to make things worse.
Finally, Caitlin raised her head and forced a smile at him. "Don't worry about it, Jack. It's fine." She hopped out of bed, still wrapped in one of his sheets, and headed for the door. "I'm going to get ready for bed," she said in a cheerful voice that didn't ring true to him.
Jack watched her leave the bedroom with a sinking feeling in his stomach. 'Idiot,' he cursed himself. 'Yeah, tell her you love her after what, four or five hours? That's genius. Real slick.' He sighed to himself, climbing out of bed to pull his boxers on. Walking over to the mirror that hung on his closet door, he stared at his reflection. His brown hair was tousled from his adventurous evening, and he distractedly smoothed it down. His fingers lingered on the silver specks just lightly dusting the hair around his temples, his eyes critically analyzing the crow's feet that had formed near his eyes in his late thirties. The many women he'd dated in the last five years or so had told him that the touch of gray made him look distinguished. Granted, these women had not been twenty-three years old. He frowned at his reflection, wondering how he could have been so stupid to think that this young, beautiful, strong woman would fall in love with him.
In the tiny bathroom, Caitlin turned on the shower and let the sheet fall to the floor. Stepping into the shower, she let the hot water stream over her body in tiny rivulets. She braced her hands against the far side of the shower and tilted her head down, taking slow, deep breaths. She felt the steam rise around her, enveloping her.
'He loves you.' The thought echoed through her head. She didn't know what to feel, and she was worried that her reaction in the bedroom was hurtful to him. But what was she to do? She couldn't just say she loved him back to be nice. She didn't know if she loved him.
'How do I know whether I love him or not?' she wondered. Though her father was a wonderful man, she sincerely doubted if her mother had ever loved him. And her mother certainly didn't love Stanley. She couldn't even know about love vicariously through Shanna, as Shanna had certainly never been in love. Shanna was very open about her decision not to settle down until she was at least thirty. 'I have had no role models for successful relationships in my entire life,' she thought miserably. Maybe once Jack discovered her serious ineptitude for romance, he would change his mind about her. He would decide she wasn't quite as strong and successful as he'd originally thought.
She leaned down and felt around outside the shower for her pack, digging out her toiletries. She shampooed and conditioned her curls, which had turned deep red from the water. Squeezing out some body wash onto her hands, she began to run her hands over her body, rubbing her creamy skin until it was pink. Finally, she turned off the water and reached for one of the navy blue towels hanging on a hook next to the shower. Blotting herself dry, she slipped into the white cotton pants and tanktop that made up her sleep attire. Washing her face and brushing her teeth quickly, she paused before going back to the bedroom.
She stared into the mirror that was above the sink. It was steamed over, and she studied the blurry image pensively. A peachy oval blob surrounded by a curly mess of dark red fire was reflected, with two sharp emeralds in the middle. Thoughtfully, she raised her hand and slowly swept her fingers across the image, which sharpened as the steam was wiped away. 'Maybe that's what love is like,' she mused. 'The person you were gradually becomes clearer because the type of man you love indicates what it is that you really want, and therefore, who you really are.' Shaking her head, she turned from the mirror and headed back to the bedroom.
Jack had changed the sheets and fixed the comforter, and was lying in bed looking at the doorway, worry in his eyes. She forced a bright smile to hide the confusion that was swirling around in her mind. Climbing into bed next to him, she reached over and switched off the lamp that was on his nightstand.
A hazy glow filtered through the RV's bedroom window from the lampposts in the rest area outside. She would have preferred complete darkness so that she wouldn't have to look at the concerned expression on Jack's face.
"Caitlin, I --" Jack began.
She leaned over and silenced him with a kiss. "Jack, don't worry about it. Everything's fine, I'm good. Let's just get some rest, okay?" She hated shutting him out like this, but until she figured out her own feelings, she didn't want to mislead him with speculation of her true feelings.
"Sure," he said in a quiet voice. "Good night."
"Good night," she responded. She shifted onto her side, facing away from him, and held her breath, hoping he would let it go for the night. To her relief, she felt him settle under the covers.