Epilogue
I sat calmly on the edge of Luke’s bed, running my fingers across the blue and gray plaid comforter, dreaming of ways to redecorate.
His room was surprisingly neat, but completely in need of a makeover.
His walls were a mish-mosh of posters, yes posters , put up with some sort of sticky nonsense.
There was one area that was uncharacteristically empty, and I suspected a picture of a scantily clad woman had once hung there.
At least he’d had the sense to take it down when he began dating me.
“I’m not going to yoga with you. One, I don’t bend that way. Two, if I did, all of the women would be very distracted by me, and that’s simply not fair. They’re just trying to get a workout, and there I am, looking like this, so—”
“Put on your sweats and get in the car,” I sang back happily, not dissuaded in the slightest. “We need the stress relief before finals week and Christmas shopping madness.”
“You realize you can’t actually make me go. I’m bigger than you.”
“Only physically. Mentally, I’m much bigger. And scarier.”
“You are a bigger pain in the ass. I will not argue with you about that.”
“Are you done? Because it’s time to Namaste.”
“Nah-Imma-Stay at home and hang these Christmas lights up that my mom wants.”
“You read that on a t-shirt, stop trying to pretend you’re that clever.”
“Rahhhh!” Luke yelled as he pulled off his sweatshirt and grabbed a FFC t-shirt out of his drawer.
“Are you roaring at me?” I asked, partially amused, and partially distracted by his sudden shirtless-ness.
“Yes. You are stubborn, and I no longer have words. ”
I chewed on my nail as he rummaged through a drawer to find appropriate yoga pants.
It was unclear if I should leave the room while he changed.
We’d been dating for two months, though technically we’d broken up twice.
Each time lasted a couple of hours, and we’d just pretended not to remember about the agreement to break up and continued on as normal.
Between that, a successful cheer regionals, and basketball practice, we mostly saw each other at school.
We went out when we could, and we talked all the time.
It was good, I realized, that we never lacked things to talk about.
But we hadn’t really pushed boundaries in other areas of our relationship.
I didn’t know for certain if this was because it just hadn’t happened yet or because he was intentionally holding back. I suspected the latter.
Things were happy with Luke, and it scared me more than I’d admit.
The way my brain went fuzzy when he would finally shut up and kiss me was enough to fill up pages in my non-existent journal.
As much as I wanted to embrace my newly rediscovered confidence, I still wanted to know he wanted more. And he seemed hesitant.
“Do you want me to close my eyes?” I questioned in a half-serious tone when he located acceptable workout pants.
“If you’re afraid you won’t be able to resist me, sure.”
My eyes rolled back into their near-permanent state when we were together. He was incessant.
“Sorry.” He grinned sheepishly. “Sure, you can close your eyes if you want.”
I hid a small smile at that, as I did whenever he dropped his ego and shifted to his more serious side.
My eyelashes rested together while I waited, only peeking once, maybe twice, but I felt him standing in front of me moments later.
He knelt at the edge of the bed and leaned into me, his arms pulling me in close.
With difficulty, I fought the urge to open my eyes, and I just let him kiss me softly.
The more I was with Luke, the fainter the memories of my other relationship became.
Each anxious moment from “before,” which was how I had come to refer to the whole regret-filled experience, had slowly been replaced by funny and sweet and gentle, which were three of the last words in the English language I would have used to describe Luke Miller prior to that day at my house after the parking lot.
The little bit of scruff he kept along his jawline—after I mentioned I liked it—tickled my neck as he kissed me there. The clean scent of his laundry detergent lingered on his shirt.
“Are you doing your best work because you can’t get enough of me? Or because you really don’t wanna go to yoga?” I murmured as he continued in his journey to my collarbone.
“Obviously because I can’t get enough of you,” he answered seriously. He stopped what he was doing and pressed his forehead against mine. “Look at me.”
I did as he asked, feeling warm in his embrace. His green eyes were so intense at the moment, a sharp contrast to their usual amusement.
“You know how I feel about you, right?” he asked in almost a whisper.
My heart picked up at the implication he was making, and I really didn’t think I could handle him making it anymore plain despite my own feelings running deeper than I thought they would.
“I do, yeah. Let’s…can we just leave it at that? For right now?”
“Yeah,” he breathed, seeming relieved. We held each other’s gaze for several beats.
“I might be persuaded to stay here instead of going to the gym now,” I flirted hesitantly.
We were in uncharted territory, but it was more exciting than frightening.
My breaths came more quickly, not from nerves, but from needing him to stop treating me like he had to protect me from himself.
He paused while his arrogant persona slipped back into view, so I took the opportunity to ruffle his hair.
“Are you sure about that? I don’t wanna hear about how you missed yoga for the next three hours.”
“Three hours?”
“That’s when my mom gets home from work,” he grinned devilishly, making my heart perform some serious acrobatics in my chest.
“Well then, I hope you have some ideas about how to entertain me. I sort of get bored easily,” I teased him, wishing I were wearing something cuter than gray work out pants and a hot pink tank top.
“Bored you say? Challenge accepted,” he boasted, grinning even wider now and sitting up on his knees. He tickled my sides lightly, but any laughter that began to bubble up quickly settled with the intensity of his next kiss.
He’s definitely been holding back , I thought, returning his energy.
He climbed onto the bed with me and blazed a trail with his lips from my chin to my waistband.
It was more than that he was driving me insane with the scratchiness of his facial hair on my stomach; it was driving me insane that he’d found himself in a place where he meant something to me.
Maybe more than something. The look on his face and the sweetness with which he traced my palm, however, told me that I meant more than something to him too.
With a renewed fire spreading through my veins, I pulled off his t-shirt to reveal a look of surprise on his face.
He should be shirtless always , I thought with certainty, welcoming the warmth of his skin on mine.
“Hi,” I whispered to him, not sure why I felt the need to say anything at all. I just needed to know we were on the same page.
“Hi,” he smiled back, leaning away onto his side to gauge my expression.
It wasn’t necessary; I wasn’t nervous. Not with him. “Everything cool?” he asked.
“Yeah, everything’s cool. You smell good,” I complimented randomly, wanting to hear him laugh.
“So do you,” he admitted, leaning back in to kiss my neck .
“Um, so at the risk of killing the mood we have going on here, do you have protection?”
I was done feeling embarrassed about talking about sex. If I’d learned anything, it was that just “going with the flow” and feeling regretful later was not something I was willing to repeat. Ever.
“Oh, okay, we’re having this talk,” he responded lightly. I appreciated that he took everything I threw at him in stride, never faltering. “Yes, I do. But that doesn’t mean we have to do anything with it.”
I sighed slightly. “I know. But do you want to? You just never say anything, so I don’t…I just wanna know where your head’s at, that’s all.”
I couldn’t make the real question come out, which was do you want me? My fingers slid between his, and our eyes met.
“V…of course I want…the things I want to do to you, Jesus. I’m just trying to be respectful of where you’re coming from,” he explained tentatively. His pupils were now overtaking the green of his eyes, and want pulsed low in my belly.
He kissed the tips of my fingers on my left hand, making me break out in goose bumps.
“You are so much more than I thought you were. Before everything.”
“I hope that’s a compliment.”
“The highest of compliments. It’s not often I admit that I was wrong.” My voice came out in a near whisper.
He rubbed my bare arm with his free hand to chase away the shiver I experienced.
“Well in that case, go on,” he joked, pulling me in even closer to him by the waist.
“Don’t ruin it,” I warned him jokingly. “I want you too. And I would be very open to hearing these things you want to do to me.”
His playfulness had all but disappeared as he kissed every inch of me available, elbows included. He stopped and paid extra attention to any area that made me squirm or suck in a breath .
“Just tell me one more time that you’re sure,” he requested once he was done exploring my skin, his breath tickling my ear.
“I’m sure,” I assured him, tracing his jaw with my nails.
“Then I’m very, very glad we have…now two and a half hours,” he let out, resuming his earlier trail down my stomach, “because I want to taste all of you, and I am going to take my time.”
Goosebumps covered my skin in anticipation. Every time he touched me, it made me feel alive, like I could remember the whole purpose for quickened heartbeats, heightened breaths, and butterflies.
“And if I do something you don’t like…or you want to stop, you just say the word, okay? Like, promise me you’ll tell me,” he said, his expression now serious.