Chapter 55
Fifty-Five
Tedi
Conor opens the door.
He smiles and reaches for his jacket. “I’ll be in Rowan and Henry’s room,” he says over his shoulder, sliding past me. “My bed isn’t part of your jungle gym.”
The door starts to shut when Conor leaves, and I press my palm on it to keep it open.
The bathroom door opens, steam escaping. Tweetie is fresh out of the shower with a towel low on his hips, his chin-length blond hair still dripping, beads of water trailing down those mouthwatering abs. “Where did you say?—”
He stands there, big blue eyes full of vulnerability, waiting for me to say something first.
For a second, my brain shuts down, and I forget all the things I wanted to say in my rush here. My heart hammers against my ribs until it’s all I can hear.
Say it, Tedi. Just say it. Release all that hurt from years gone by. Start fresh.
“I love you.” The words burst out of me like a shaken soda can exploding.
His expression doesn’t change, but his eyes soften. He looks at me as though he already knew. Because he did.
And that’s when I realize.
Of course he knew I loved him.
“You.” I blink at him, my breath catching. I push the journals into his chest. “You about killed me with these.”
The corner of his mouth twitches. “That was the point.”
My jaw drops. “To kill me? Because if you killed me, then all those second chances you wrote about wouldn’t be happening.”
He leans against the doorframe, completely unfazed, as if my grand, dramatic sprint here to declare my love is just like any other day. “I wanted you to know what was going on in my head, how much you mean to me. That this isn’t something I take lightly. I love you, Tedi. And I understand why you wanted to go slow.”
I put my finger to his lips. “That’s just it. I don’t want to.”
His eyes soften even more. “You don’t want to go slow?”
My heart clenches, everything inside me unraveling at once. Then I shake my head. “I choose us.” My voice shakes, but I push through all the worry and fear because he never purposely tried to hurt us. He was just trying to survive. “And I swear, if you try to tell me that I was right and we need to take our time, I will?—”
“I wasn’t.” His lips twitch. This beautiful, frustrating man who always looks at me as if I’m his favorite puzzle to solve.
“Well… good.” I step farther into the room, and he follows.
He wraps his arms around my waist, nuzzling his head into the crook of my neck. Just like old times.
“You’re getting me wet,” I say.
“I like it when you’re wet.”
I place my hands on his arms. “I believe in us.”
“So no more fake boyfriends?”
I circle in his arms and jab him in the stomach. He feigns hurt, his chest shaking with laughter.
“I’m yours if you’ll have me.”
One beat of silence, then he just stares into my eyes.
“Oh my god, are you trying to play hard to get now?” I’m ready to jab him in the stomach again, but his fingers slide into my hair, pulling me toward him.
“Didn’t you know?” he murmurs, his breath warm against my lips. “You’ve always been mine.”
He kisses me. It’s not a careful, hesitant kiss. It’s years of longing and missed chances coming out to play. His lips crush mine, stealing my breath, while his hands grip my waist as if he’s terrified I might change my mind and try to run out of here.
I rise on my toes, my fingers tangling in his wet hair, the heat of his bare skin searing the skin through my blouse. Nothing else in the world exists except for him… me… us . He lifts me effortlessly, and I wrap my legs around his waist.
“You know I’m never letting you go now,” he murmurs against my lips, walking us backward.
“Me either,” I pant.
“There are no takebacks.”
“Then I sure hope you aren’t defective.” I playfully roll my eyes.
He chuckles, but the laughter fades into something deeper, something raw, as he lays me on the bed and hovers over me. His eyes are dark and hungry. “You really love me?”
I cup his face, my thumb brushing his cheek. “Would you like me to pinch you, so you know you’re not dreaming?”
“I’m not really into pinching, but I’ll take some sucking.”
Tweetie’s lips are on mine before I can make a smartass comment back.
There’s no space left between us, no room for doubt. His hands slide into my hair, angling my head as he deepens our kiss. I clutch at his shoulders, his bare skin warm and solid beneath my fingertips. The scent of soap and him swims around us while his mouth explores and claims me.
A soft moan escapes me, and his grip tightens.
“Tedi,” he murmurs, his forehead pressing to mine, his breath ragged. “Do you have any idea how many times I thought this would never happen again?”
I smile against his lips, my fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw. “Yeah, you gave me your journals. But this doesn’t mean I’m giving you mine. You know that, right?”
He groans. “I would never ask.”
“Well, maybe one or two. I’m a sharer.”
“No, you’re not.”
I draw back and act offended.
“So, you want to have a threesome? Share me with some other woman?”
Red veils my vision, and he laughs.
“I thought so.”
I press my lips to his. This time, I take control, my hands sliding along his shoulder blades, remembering the dip and curve of every muscle.
He exhales sharply. “Tedi?—”
“You talk too much,” I murmur against his skin, letting my lips trail down his neck.
His head tilts back slightly, a quiet curse slipping past his lips as I kiss the spot just below his ear. He lowers me to the floor, and his hands trace the curve of my waist. I take his face in my hands, looking into his beautiful blue eyes—the eyes that are only filled with love for me.
His fingers go to my blouse, resting on the first button. With every breath, another button flicks open until he pushes it off me, and it floats to the floor.
“I can’t wait to taste every inch of you.” His hands go to my pants, and he unbuttons and slides the zipper down until I help him by wiggling out, and they pool at my feet.
I step out of my pants, and he steps back, staring at me. Tweetie brings his thumb to his mouth, studying me as if I’m some art sculpture he’s admiring. Wanting to keep his eyes on me, I reach back and unclasp my bra, sliding the straps down my arms until it joins my blouse and pants.
He bites his thumb and groans. “Fuck.”
Continuing, I ease my panties down and off my hips, then my legs, kicking away the flimsy silk fabric. His gaze heats, and I imagine all the dirty things running through his mind. It only makes me feel more wanted.
“You’re awfully far away.” I turn around.
He steps closer and runs his thumb over his name tattooed on my ribcage. “I love seeing this.”
Our eyes meet, and I see guilt in his.
“No. Don’t.” I put my hands on his face and force him to look at me. “Enjoy seeing your name on my skin. I love that you love it.”
“But—”
I shake my head. “It’s in the past. Leave it there.” I push a finger between his abs and his towel, tugging it off of him. “My job was much easier.”
“God, Tedi,” he says before he’s on me. Neither of us can keep things slow and languid.
Our kiss is crazy and messy, and our hands are everywhere all at once. As if a timer’s been set and once the buzzer goes off, we’re done.
“You drive me insane,” he mutters, stripping his mouth off mine, only to push me down on the bed.
“Good.”
I watch his lips curl as he goes to his bag, digs out a condom, and pulls it out of the package. I admire him running it down his thick length.
Then he’s crawling up the bed, his knees pushing my legs apart. He lowers his body, the weight of him pressing me into the soft mattress. “Thank you.”
“For what?” I run my hands through his hair.
“For loving me.”
I bring his lips to mine, and our kiss slows, and our hands explore slower, savoring a moment we’ve both been waiting for. This isn’t just sex. This is us promising each other a future together.
He wedges his hand between us and positions himself at my opening, sliding in.
As our bodies move together, heat curling between us, Tweetie whispers sweet things in my ear. How much he missed me, how much I mean to him, and how much he loves me. And I tell him the same as our lips drag across each other’s heated skin. We share promises of a future because this time, neither of us is letting go.
I come on a cry, my back arching into him, and he swallows my moan before he comes on a grunt and a curse.
After we’re finished, neither of us rushes to get up, not ready to face anything outside of the two of us.