Out of the Blue

Chapter 27

There was no denying waiting a few weeks before sleeping with Justin had been the right choice. Not because I would have regretted it if we'd made it here sooner, but because this moment was absolute perfection.

Justin's chest was warm, and a little tacky with sweat against my cheek, but also the most comfortable place in the world. I drew in a content breath as his fingers traced circles on my bare shoulder.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked quietly, pressing his warm lips to my hair.

I'd been examining the intricacies of his tattoo, not really thinking about anything other than what we'd just shared. "Nothing and everything," I admitted. "What are you thinking about?"

His chest shook a little and I could tell without seeing that his lips had curved into a smirk. "Just replaying a few moments."

I turned to rest my chin on his chest. "Hmm, and which moments were those?" I asked, trying hard to conceal my smile. Without a word, he leant forward to capture my lips and tell me exactly what he'd been thinking about. "Yes, those were good moments," I agreed when he pulled back. He settled against the pillows with me against his chest.

After a few more minutes of cuddling, I found my eyes wandering around his room again. They soon rested on the small wooden box, the one I'd asked about earlier. While that may not have been the right time to bring it up, I was genuinely curious.

"So," I began with slight caution, "What's in the box?"

Justin followed my gaze, his chin brushing against my hair. He sighed but didn't hesitate to reveal its mysteries. "They're letters from my mum."

I froze. "Oh. Sorry, I didn't mean to pry," I apologised, propping myself on my elbow to look down at him, hoping I didn't just spoil the moment by bringing up painful memories.

"No, it's okay," he smiled, noticing my panic. "They're a good thing."

"When did she write them?"

Justin glanced back at the box. "I'm pretty sure she wrote them when she was in the hospital. There's one for each of my birthdays. Dad gives me one each year."

"That must be lovely, but also hard."

He shrugged. "A little. This year more than others."

"Why's that?"

His eyes glazes over for a moment. "The last letter came on my 21st birthday."

A letter each year until a few months ago. How do you respond to something like that? "Oh."

Justin sensed my uncertainty. "It's okay. I came to terms with mum's passing a long time ago."

"Do you still read them?"

"All the time. They're full of my mother's sage life advice, and her hopes for me. It's nice to pull them out every now and then." 

What a beautiful gift Lillian Hart had left her son. I couldn't even imagine what writing those letters would have been like for her, or how they made Justin feel each time he received one. 

When silence fell again, I moved to get out of bed. "Be back in a moment." After cleaning up a little in the en suite, I re-entered the bedroom to find Justin sitting with his back against the headboard. He'd put on boxer shorts.

Glancing around the floor, I gathered my undergarments and put them back on. When I sat at the edge of the bed untangling the suspenders, which had somehow gotten twisted in the stockings, Justin bounced over to me, his warm lips pressing a small kiss to my waist.

"Why are you getting dressed?"

I shrugged. "I should probably get going," I admitted softly. "It's really late."