86. Bailey
eighty-six
Bailey
I hold him tight in my arms, his warm tears pelting off my skin as I gently rock him, my heart aching for him.
“I’ve got you,” I say again.
If he’ll let me, if he’s willing to give me another chance, I’d be honored to hold him together any time he needs it. In any way I can.
His arms find mine and I link our fingers together as his breathing slows.
“Sorry,” he whispers.
“Never apologize,” I say against his skin. “It means the world to me that you’re willing to trust me with your truth,” I admit.
“You’re safe with me, Lolly. I promise. I’m sorry I’ve missed so much, but I’m here now,” I kiss his shoulder and add, “if you’ll have me.”
He lets out a small laugh and a few more tears slide down his beautiful face.
I kiss the tears on one side, then move to the other.
“Are you sure?” He asks, looking up to face me.
“Am I sure that running from you was the worst mistake I’ve ever made? Yes. I’m sure,” I admit.
“I feel like you’ve done worse,” he says with a wicked grin.
“Asshole,” I laugh.
“What about your parents?” He asks, tone guarded, brows furrowed.
“That’s going to be entirely up to them,” I reply honestly. It’s the truth. One I should have found sooner, but wasn’t ready for.
“How so?” He asks, eyes dancing with something beautiful.
“If you choose this,” I pause, “choose me, there will be no Christmases without you. No Saturday evening dinners or birthday celebrations. If you’re not welcome, we aren’t going,” I say with certainty.
His eyes widen and his mouth opens but he just stares at me.
My stomach churns with worry, afraid I’ve said too much too soon.
“I haven’t dated anyone since Peyton,” I say anxiously. “It never worked. Trust me, I tried. But none of them were…” I swallow, “none of them were you.”
His eyes soften, and a small smile forms as he shakes his head in disbelief.
“Bailey, I—”
“You don’t have to decide right now. I know that was a lot and probably entirely too soon, so please don’t feel pressured to make a decision,” I cut him off, worried I’m not going to like what he’s about to say.
He slowly stands and turns to face me.
My stomach drops. Oh, I have royally fucked up.
He holds his hand out and I take it, standing to meet him.
I shiver as the intensity in his eyes sears through me. I can’t tell what he’s thinking—what he’s feeling. My nerves are wild with worry and I’m fucking embarassed, my cheeks growing hotter by the second.
He takes a step closer, watching me with those depthless eyes as he brings a soft hand to cup my face.
“Bailey,” he says.
I tremble beneath his touch.
“That decision was made years ago,” he says softly. “I’ve always been yours,” he says.
His words echo in my mind as I stand still, trying to catch my breath.
He smiles like he can sense the madness between my ears, and gently caresses my cheek with his thumb.
My eyes burn but I don’t fight the tears. I lean into his perfect touch and let him see all of me. Everything I am. Who I’ve become and who I hope to be.
His smile grows as he wipes my tears, “Can I keep you?” He whispers.
I laugh, lips quivering as I try to form words.
“Yes,” I manage, and then he kisses me. It’s more than the touch of his lips against mine. It’s a promise. A reckoning. It’s him and me and me and him and I fucking love it.
A small cry escapes me as I launch myself into his arms, holding onto him because my life depends upon it.
I can’t pretend.
I can’t be the version of myself that the world wants me to be because it will fucking kill me—and he makes me want to live. He makes me want to be present for every moment, the good and the bad. To take every opportunity and fucking experience it—all this beautifully fucked up world has to offer.
A warm laugh from him shakes me as he lifts my ass. I lock my legs behind him and breathe him in. He smells like yesterday and tomorrow. Like sunsets and promises. I nuzzle my nose into his neck and damn near purr with delight when he places a kiss to my temple.
“God, I missed you,” I mumble against his skin, unwilling to move.
“I missed you too, green eyes,” he says as he rests his chin on my head.
It feels so good I don’t care that I’m wrapped around him like a feral koala. I fit here. Right here, with him. All our perfect imperfections aligned to create something beautiful.
My stomach growls and we both laugh. “I really am hungry,” I admit sheepishly.
“I could eat again,” he chuckles.
My mind immediately goes to the gutter. God, yes. My dick twitches against his belly and I hope to fucking God he didn’t notice.
“Were you just thinking about me eating something in particular?” He says as he pulls back to look down at me in suspicion.
“Nope,” I shake my head, fighting the smile that's threatening to split my face.
“You’re a shit liar,” he says, then leans in to nuzzle his nose against mine.
I bite my bottom lip and his eyes fall to my mouth. I gently pull him to me, laughing when my smile causes him to kiss my teeth.
He squeezes my ass cheeks and I whimper into his mouth, deepening the kiss.
I’m jostled as he takes a few steps but I’m too fucking lost in him to care where he’s taking me. These fucking lips. This tongue. His taste. Everything is so perfect. So heady it’s almost too much. Thank fuck he’s holding me up because my head is spinning and I feel weightless.
I gasp as my back hits the cold wall, his body pressing against me, pinning me in place. “Fuck,” I groan as my hips chase friction. I’m at his mercy, barely able to move but willing to stay here forever.
My dick is hard again, pushing the limits of my briefs. His shirtless skin is hot against mine—nipple piercings drag across my chest with his heavy breaths and the sensation is fucking obscene.
He pulls away and looks at me, pupils blown. “Bailey, if I don’t stop now you might not be eating for another hour or two,” he says.
“It can wait,” I say, smiling lazily before finding his mouth again.
He groans and I inhale his pleasure, rocking up against him until my length brushes against his.
“You feel so fucking good,” I pant.
“Mm, so do you,” he groans and thrusts against me again, harder this time.
This is so fucking hot but I want to touch him. I want to see all of him.
“Lolly,” I manage between mind-melting kisses. “Can you carry me to my bed?” I say before realizing how ridiculous I sound.
He laughs, “I thought you’d never ask,” he says before crushing his lips to mine and pulling me closer before peeling me from the wall.
We both giggle as he clumsily makes his way down the hallway, pulling my bottom lip into his mouth with a grin while he peers over my shoulder.
I can’t stop twirling his hair between my fingers. I miss the long locs, but this suits him too. He’s stunning. I hope my lamp is on. I want to see everything.
I yelp when the backs of my legs strike the bed, laughing as he gently lays me down, celebrating the glow from the lamp as it ignites across his perfect face.
The warm light paints brilliant hues of gold across his cheek bones and jawline, catching on his septum ring before highlighting his shoulders and pecs like God himself took his creation personally.
My eyes linger on his pierced nipples, mouth watering.
I let my gaze travel down to his abs and obliques, then note the way his quads shift with subtle movement.
He’s flawless. A smirk blooms on his face as he watches me drink him in.
My heart pounds in my chest as warmth fills my being. Everything is right with the world when he’s standing before me like this.
He slowly stalks toward me, bringing one knee to the bed in the most sultry fucking move I’ve ever seen.
I gather what’s left of my brain power and scurry backward to the head of the bed, resting back on my elbows so I don’t miss the show. And my fucking god, what a sight. His shoulders and back muscles ripple as he crawls toward me, leisurely movements that slowly bring him closer.
My breaths quicken, heat dances across my skin as I try to remember how to blink—how to breathe.
He crawls over my legs, planting kisses on each of my thighs before he makes his way up to my abdomen. He licks and teases with the lightest touch, then places a kiss above my heart before coming to a stop just inches from my face.
His breaths kiss my lips and my lungs constrict. I can smell him again, that familiar scent wrapping around me like an old friend. I let out a shaking breath, the need to touch him so great I feel like my bones might shatter. It’s almost painful. The need. The ache.
My hand finds his face and I’m immediately grounded. Settled and safe.
“I want you,” I whisper.
His eyes soften as he searches my face, leaning into my touch.
“I want all of you, Lolly. The sunsets and the rain. I want to carry your pain with you, beside you. To celebrate you and support you in every way that you’ll let me.
” I wipe a single tear from his cheek, my chest filling with a tenderness I didn’t know I was capable of.
“I want to be a soft place for you to land. And I need you to know that I’m not afraid of this—of what we have.
I want to hold your hand when you need to watch the planes fly over.
I want to see my first Broadway play with you and find a beach without fucking sand,” I admit with a grin.
He laughs, and the sound resonates so deeply that I think he might have just given a piece of himself to me.
I press my lips to his, holding his perfect face in my hands before pulling away to look at him once more. “I want you,” I say without reservation.