The Embrace of Evergreen (Unexpected Love #2)

Blue

Blue

Just like the first night I fell asleep with Ethan stretched out at my side, when my eyes blink open, fighting against the harsh morning light that's found its way in through half-closed curtains, the bed is empty.

I scrub my hands across my face, trying to figure out just how I could have let things get so out of hand so quickly. The fact that, for some reason, I’ve fallen completely and inescapably in love with Ethan despite my promise to myself to never take that type of risk again doesn’t excuse the fact that I took advantage of him. Yes, he’s the one who came on to me, and yes, he’s a grown-ass adult who can make his own choices, but he’s been open with me. Far more open than I’ve been with him. He’s trusted me with the fact that he’s demi and that he’s never in his life connected with anyone enough to have good sex, and instead of taking my time and making sure we had a strong foundation outside of our friendship. Instead of making sure he knows that I want more, that I wouldn’t just use him, I jumped on him the second he showed any interest in me sexually. And…now I’m in bed alone.

The soft click of the door opening has me scrambling to sit up and cover my hips with the sheets. Even though Gabriel has seen me hurt and sick and in the shower while he brushes his teeth because personal space isn’t really a thing in our house, I’m not in any hurry for him to see me lying here all sticky and introspective.

“Hi.” Ethan’s smooth voice breaks through my moment of panic.

“Hey.” My voice sounds deeper than normal, and I love the way the slight gravelly sound reflects the fact I spent a good amount of time with Ethan’s cock down my throat last night.

I shift to my knees and reach out for the mug of coffee he extends in my direction as he makes his way to the side of the bed. He’s wearing a pair of sweatpants he must have snagged off the pile of laundry that always lives on my desk chair and nothing else. The bruises I sucked into his pale skin are dark and obvious, and I both hate the idea that Gabriel might have seen him like this and love the way my marks look on his thickly muscled body.

“I, uh…I thought you’d left,” I mumble around a sip of coffee as he crawls back into bed at my side. I’m more than slightly embarrassed by my assumptions and sp iraling thoughts, even though I’m the only one who heard them.

He grins, and it’s a vibrant, joyful thing. “You thought I panicked and fled to cry through my regrets somewhere.”

I nearly snort out my coffee, my cheeks heating at just how accurate that statement is. “Something like that, maybe.”

“For the record,” he smiles softly, “I don’t really regret any of my attempts at sex and dating and relationships. I may not have enjoyed them, but I don’t regret trying.”

The small fluttery, hopeful thing that’s taken up residence in my chest over the past month dies an instant, painful, fiery death. “Got it. Well, that’s good to know, at least.”

Ethan’s eyes widen almost comically. “Oh my god, no. Jesus, no. Ugh, nice, Ethan, real nice. Okay, that’s not at all what I meant. I meant in the past, with dates that didn’t go well and sex that was terrible. I didn’t mean you or last night. Last night with you was…indescribable.”

His panic over the misunderstanding seems to indicate that indescribable is a good thing, but I’m still a bit too shell-shocked to be sure. “And that’s…that’s good, right? ”

He sets his untouched coffee on the nightstand and pulls mine from my hand to set it down as well before crawling over me to straddle my lap. His strong fingers trace my cheekbones as he smiles tenderly, his brilliant emerald eyes only inches from my own.

“It was everything, Blue. It was everything I’ve ever read about and seen in movies. Everything I always hoped it could be, and so many things I never even knew I wanted.”

Every moment of pain in my past, every second I’ve been hurt or doubted myself. Every day and month and year of living without hope, of hiding my heart behind towering, impenetrable walls, of giving up on the idea that love - real, complex, heart-stopping, chest-aching love - might actually exist are erased with one smile, one sentence, one man.

My hands fly to his hips as I bend my knees and plant my feet on the bed, pulling him close, pinning his body against me and bringing our lips together. Our lips play slow and gentle, and he is everything I’ve ever wanted. I never want to leave this moment, never want to remember what it’s like not to have his weight pinning me to the mattress, his hands clutching my neck, his breath mingling with mine.

Time stops as our kiss slows and our bodies shift, melting into one another until I can’t tell where I end and he begins as he rests his forehead against mine and offers me a shy smile .

“You’re mine now, right?” I ask in a whisper, his mouth still close enough that our lips brush as I speak. I need him to know that I want him, that nothing about this is light or flippant or temporary for me. I want him to know that I want to be his.

“Ya, Blue. I’m yours. I think I’ve been yours for a long time already.”

We lose ourselves in the softness of eager mouths and the gentle trail of exploring fingertips for long, drawn-out moments in the warm morning sunlight, and it’s only with one last flick of his tongue across my lip ring and a deep, contented sigh that he eventually slides off my lap, grabs both of our coffees, and settles in, snuggled tightly against my side.

I let my head lean over against his as he takes his first sip, only to be jolted away when he chokes, pale-brown liquid spilling from his lips as he attempts to catch it in his hand with absolutely zero grace whatsoever. “Ugh. My god. What is this? This isn’t really what counts as coffee here, is it?”