Chapter 66
Ace
I don’t remember much after she said it. Not the music. Not the crowd. Not the ridiculous frat-party chaos happening around us. All I remember is Julia Brooks, in a blond Sandy wig and skintight black pants, looking me in the eyes and saying, “I love you.”
Everything tilted. My heart, my head, the fucking axis of Earth.
She loves me.
She. Loves. Me.
Thank fucking everything.
Still in our stupid costumes, still drunk on the high of that moment, and riding the elevator up to my apartment like we’re trying not to combust before we make it to the finish line.
She’s standing close, her Sandy curls brushing my shoulder, red lipstick a little smudged from where I kissed her senseless in front of all our friends.
And I can’t stop looking at her.
God, she’s beautiful. Beautiful in that devastating, once-in-a-lifetime kind of way that makes your chest ache and your future reorient.
When the elevator dings, I don’t wait. I scoop her into my arms like some love-sick Danny Zuko on steroids.
“Ace!” she shrieks, arms flailing before they wrap around my neck.
I grin down at her. “This is me carrying you over the threshold.”
“We’re not married,” she says, laughing.
“Well, duh,” I say. “We’re not twenty-five yet.”
She goes quiet for half a second—just long enough for our eyes to meet—and then she shakes her head, cheeks flushed, smile wide. “I can’t believe you remember that.”
“I remember everything when it comes to you.”
I stop outside my door and shift her slightly in my arms. She tightens her legs around my waist, threading her fingers through the hair at the back of my neck.
“You sure about this?” I ask, quieter now. “Because once I step through this door, I’m not letting you go.”
She doesn’t hesitate. “Don’t ever let me go.”
Fuck me sideways.
I push the door open with my back, step inside, and kick it shut behind us.
Then I kiss her. And it’s mayhem.
Months of wanting. Years of not knowing. A lifetime of feeling something I couldn’t name—all of it crashes into me at once.
I kiss her like she’s air and I haven’t been breathing right for years.
She clings to me like she feels the same. Her lips chase mine. Her hands are everywhere—my neck, my jaw, the buttons of my letterman sweater. I don’t even care when she pops one off and it bounces somewhere under the couch. She could set this whole place on fire, and I’d say thank you.
We stumble into the living room, never breaking contact, and I drop to the couch with her in my lap, legs tangled, hands greedy, lips desperate.
“Fuck, Julia,” I curse softly against her neck, and she giggles.
“What?”
“You’re in my arms,” I whisper, kissing her collarbone. “After all this time, you’re actually here.”
“I know.” She lets out a soft, breathless laugh that’s equal parts joy and disbelief. “It almost doesn’t feel real.”
“It doesn’t,” I agree, brushing my nose against her cheek. “But then you touch me, and…yeah. It’s real. It’s so fucking real.”
“You know, I used to secretly imagine this.” Her fingers find the back of my neck, tugging me closer. “You and me together.”
“You did?”
She nods and glides her lips against mine. “I did.”
“I’ve imagined this too,” I tell her. “A thousand times. A hundred different ways.”
She leans her forehead against mine. “We’re really doing this, huh?”
“Fuck yes, we are,” I murmur and kiss her again—deeper this time and slower.
Her hips shift against me, and a soft moan escapes her lips.
Fuck.
She’s kissed me before, but not like this.
Not like someone who loves me back.
Not like someone who’s mine.
I lean into her, mouth at her ear. “Tell me again.”
She pulls back enough to meet my eyes.
“I love you, Ace.”
I’m gone.
Totally and completely.
And fuck, I want it to be more than this. More than frantic touches on my couch. I want to remember everything. I want to feel everything. I want to fucking worship her.
I stand, lifting her with me, and she wraps her legs around my waist like it’s second nature. I carry her down the hall to my room. I kick the door shut with my foot, and she’s already pulling at my shirt and letterman, fumbling with the hems, laughing when they gets stuck over my head.
Once both are gone, I guide her to the bed, laying her down gently. I remove her wig and her heels, kissing her feet as I do. Her shirt and bra are next, and her pants and lacy underwear come off shortly after that.
I have to pause to catch my breath. Naked Julia is inconceivable. Undeniable. Fucking perfect.
My heart pounds so hard inside my chest it might as well be a playlist—the soundtrack of our love.
Julia is beautiful in the way that you feel to your damn bones.
She’s beautiful in the way that makes me wonder if I’m going to die of a heart attack before I reach twenty fucking years old.
She’s beautiful in the way that I know with absolute certainty, years and years later, the vision of her like this will be so ingrained in my fucking brain it’ll probably have to form a new goddamn lobe to remember any other shit.
“I love you,” I tell her. “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything.”
“I love you too,” she says and moves to kneel on the bed before me. With quick hands, she removes the rest of my clothes until I’m completely naked. My cock juts out like it’s willing to disconnect itself from my fucking body to be closer to her.
I crawl onto the bed, urging her to lie back again, and start kissing every inch of her. Her feet, her legs, her upper thighs, her belly, her breasts, her arms—my lips and tongue and mouth touch every part of her skin.
My kisses are greedy and desperate, but they’re reverent too.
I memorize her body, her panting breaths, and her little moans and sighs.
“Ace.” She reaches out to pull me toward her until my body hovers over hers. Until my chest brushes against her breasts and the tip of my hard cock can feel how wet she is between her thighs.
“I need you.” She looks up at me, her hand on my jaw, eyes so full of emotion it nearly levels me.
“I’ve always fucking needed you, Julia,” I tell her, my voice a little hoarse. “You should’ve been my first.”
Her eyes soften. “You should’ve been my first, too.”
“You should’ve been my first everything.” I brush my lips against hers. “But now, you’re something better.”
She searches my eyes.
“You’re my last,” I say quietly, stroking my thumb across her cheek, “You’re my always. You’re my forever.”
“You’re mine too.” Her eyes glisten. “Let me feel you,” she whispers. “All of you. Inside me.”
Every piece of us, together. Every piece of us forever.