55. Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Five
Ali
I won, we won. The words have replayed over and over in my head the entire journey home. I reassured everyone I would be fine and told them to get back to work. All of them listened, except Harry, and truthfully, I’m glad he didn’t. I’m not ready to be alone yet, to be without him.
We head back to my apartment, a place I have avoided as much as I can. I haven’t stayed here in weeks. It now holds too many awful memories. A place that was once my safe haven is now tainted with some of the worst nights of my life. But I refuse to let him take anything else away from me. Seeing him today helped me realize how far I have come. I will never forget what he did to me, what they took from me. But I won’t let them take another thing. I will feel safe in my home again, but there is something else, a part of me and Harry I fear has been lost, something we won’t ever be able to get back. It was such a huge part of who we were, how we connected. But what if it’s different now? Maybe it is, and maybe that’s a good thing. There’s only one way of knowing and I am done letting my fear hold me back.
New York looks beautiful this evening: an orange glow in the sky reminiscent of the sun rising at dawn. We work side by side, washing and drying the dishes, music playing in the background. We ordered takeout from a local Italian restaurant and got my favorite cheesecake from Bella’s Bakery. We played cards and watched movies. It’s been the perfect way to spend the day. Since hearing the words parole denied, it’s felt like little pieces of me have been put back together as the hours have ticked by. I had done so much healing over the last fifteen years. This was just a minor setback. I am not where I was fifteen years ago. Now I have love and support. A team of people willing to stand by me, go to war for me, and I’d do the same for them.
I feel like the past month or so has all been about me, and I want to change that.
“So, how’s things at the club? Did you figure out where that missing money was going?” I ask as I stack the clean plates in the cupboard.
Harry washes the last of the cutlery. “No, Brad is looking into it, but we’ve gone through the accounts, and we can’t work it out.”
“Maybe ask Gabby to check. She’s a trained accountant, remember?”
“Shit, yeah, I forgot that I’ll get Brad to go through the accounts with her. Numbers are more his thing than mine or Jack’s.” I smile, closing the cupboard door, enjoying the everyday conversations with him again.
“Does anything else need washing?” he asks, back turned to me. He changed into a black pair of sweatpants and a white tee when he arrived. I threw on my favorite pink sweatpants and matching sweatshirt.
“Uh, just this.” I lift the tray we used to heat the food in the oven. It’s long and heavy and just as I lift it, I feel it slip from my hands. I launch it into the sink filled with soapy water, a huge splash covering Harry.
“Jesus, woman.”
I clamp a hand over my mouth to stifle a laugh. The front of his white t-shirt is now soaked and see-through.
“Seems you are all wet H,” I giggle.
“Ali Cat, if you wanted me to take my top off all you had to do was ask.” He stills after he says it, his eyes widening. I don’t want him treading on eggshells anymore. I miss our playful banter, our physical connection.
“Oh really, that’s all I had to do?” I say coyly. “Well… you better take that off. We wouldn’t want you to catch a cold.” I give him a playful wink, reassuring him I want this.
He peels the shirt off slowly, revealing his toned abs and his tattooed chest, sending my internal body temperature through the roof.
He tosses the shirt to the side and grins. “Better?” he questions.
“Much.” I smirk. He turns around, washing the pan, my eyes drifting to his ass then back up his body, watching his back muscles flex as he washes the tray, then puts it on the drainer. A familiar warmth spreads throughout my core.
I clear my throat, reaching for the cloth, wiping down the countertops I know are already clean, but I need to busy myself. Is it too soon? Will he reject me? So many questions are running through my head. But I know he won’t make a move unless I ask. He said we are going at my pace. I have to be the one to reach out here.
I move towards him, intentionally pressing my front to his back as I brush past him. He stiffens and I pray in a good way. He spins to face me, my eyes locking with his.
“Is there anything else you want me to do for you?” he asks, his voice deep and gravelly.
Yes, there is a lot you can do for me.
My eyes drift to his mouth and back up to his eyes, his expression never changing. He steps forward, pressing our bodies together. Biting on my lower lip, our chests heave in perfect synchronization.
“Ali…”
“Yeah,” I say, my words barely audible.
“Is there anything you want me to do… anything at all?”
Kiss me.
I try to speak but words fail. I’ve never been good at saying what I want but always good at showing it. My hands reach for his waist, moving up his torso and drifting across his chest. As they glide across his tanned skin, goosebumps scatter, and I smile. He’s just as affected by my touch as I am with his. His large hands find my waist as mine cup his face. I go up on my tiptoes, closing my eyes and pressing my lips to his. I melt into his touch.
I break the kiss and look at him needing to know he’s feeling the same way I am. But before I can try and register his expression his lips crash back down on mine and our kiss turns frantic. His tongue dances with mine as strong arms lift me, setting me on the countertop. His body moves in between my legs, and I cross them, locking him in and pulling him into me. His fingers weave into my hair as mine do the same to his, deepening our connection. Every kiss, every flick of his tongue he’s bringing me back to life. We haven’t kissed like this in months and holy shit does it feel good. I’ve missed this, I’ve missed us, and I need more.
He pulls away and he steps back. Hand over his mouth he hisses, “Shit, Ali…”
“It’s…”
“No, I’m sorry, I got lost in you there, because fuck… did that feel good but, if it’s too fast, too soon, we can stop,” he rambles, and I interrupt.
“H, I want this… I want you. I need you.” His face softens as my words echo around us.
“Y-you want me?” he questions, his voice unsteady and I nod. He steps closer, cupping my face, resting our foreheads together.
Sensing he needs me to be vulnerable here I open up, I owe him that much. “I’ve always wanted you, needed you. It just took me a while to realize that. I thought I was protecting you by pushing you away, but I was wrong, and I’m sorry.”
He presses a kiss to my forehead, and I close my eyes. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“Yeah, I do. I should have known you were different. I think I knew from the moment I met you, and that’s why I pushed you away. But I’m done pushing you away, H, but…”
“But what, baby, tell me, and I’ll do my best to make it better,” he begs, his hands still cupping my face.
“I need to know I’m not completely fragile, that…that he didn’t take everything from me. I need to know we are still us…”
Not needing to elaborate his tongue peeks out and swipes across his bottom lip. A deep rumble comes from his chest as he squeezes his eyes shut. “Are you sure? We go at your pace, okay? You are in control here,” he reassures.
“Yes, I’ve spent years trying to get rid of his touch and you’ve been the only one to do that. The only man to ever make me forget and feel whole.”
I reach for his face, loving the roughness of his five-o clock shadow against my skin. I’ve never felt so vulnerable yet safe. But it’s now or never. This is what we need. The final piece I need to put me back together to be the person I was.
“Just… just show me I’m not broken. Make me yours again.”