20. Savvy
I’M TRYING NOT to panic.
The entire drive home, my hand keeps drifting to the little switch on the side of my phone that controls the ringer volume, checking that it’s on. I keep expecting to find that it’s turned itself off or I somehow mixed up the correct position, as if the piece of metal is responsible for Dar not immediately calling me to come back.
It’s not reasonable to expect him to. I offered him space, and he took it.
That doesn’t mean… We had a fight, that’s all. Couples fight. It’s normal.
That’s what I keep telling myself, anyway, trying to reason away the icy ball of dread that has settled in the pit of my stomach. The one that gets heavier and heavier every time I touch that stupid switch.
Dar is going to call and tell me to turn around. He needed a minute to breathe, but he’ll call. He has to call.
This is supposed to be different than every other shitty relationship I’ve had, the ones I thought were special or important but now pale in comparison to the feelings I have for Dar. I’m in love with him, like, completely in love with him. The kind of love that doesn’t get thrown off track by stupid arguments or misunderstandings. The kind of love that’s forever, damn it.
What if, with one stupid comment, I made him realize that this—us—is more trouble than it’s worth? He’s already had to change so much just to allow me a place in his life, and while I thought he was happy to do it, what if I was wrong all along?
Then, on top of the hurt, I keep thinking about the way his hands moved under the water at the kitchen sink and how he reached for the soap like a lifeline. Stress and big life changes aggravate OCD; I’m not an expert, but I know that much. My suggesting that he would have to leave the place where he’s most comfortable to have me in his life full time was the emotional equivalent of setting the kitchen on fire.
As I turn into the driveway of Dad’s house and shift the car into park, the last sliver of hope that this will quickly be over dies. My eyes burn with unshed tears, and, for a moment, all I can do is stare at the cracked garage door pane, trying to make sense of the last half hour.
Was it really just thirty minutes? It seems impossible that I could have felt perfectly happy such a short time ago when I now feel like my whole world is crumbling around me.
Hollowed out and endeavoring not to cry in front of the sour Mrs. Paul while she prunes her rose bushes, I push the car door open and step out onto the drive, wiping my eyes.
There’s no comfort in coming back here, to my supposed home. Even with my name on the deed and most of my stuff in boxes in the garage, it still feels so much more like Dad’s house than mine. He’s been gone for over two months now, and I haven’t gotten around to clearing out his bedroom or listing his hundreds of collectibles on eBay.
I’ve just made it to the walkway that leads to the front door when the sound of a car turning quickly into the cul-de-sac makes me glance back toward the road. From here, there’s a clear view of the entire street, including a familiar car speeding toward me.
My heart stalls.
I watch, filled with reluctant, terrified hope, as the driver turns sharply into my driveway, almost upsetting the big rolling trash can at the curb. A ragged little sob bubbles from my lips as the car stops and my eyes meet Dar’s through the windshield.
Seconds later, he’s on his feet, not even bothering to shut the car door as he closes the distance between us in long strides. Without a single word, he wraps his arms around me, pulling me into his chest so forcefully that he sweeps me off the ground.
He’s shaking.
“I’m sorry.” Two raw, pleading words, and I know we’re going to be okay. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so fucking sorry.”
Wrapping my legs around his waist, I press my forehead to his, making sure he can see my eyes. “I know. I know, Dar. It’s okay?—”
“It’s not,” he interrupts, his voice weak. “It’s not okay, Savvy. Fuck, I never want to make you feel that way again. Never. We’ll sell the house. Stone’s too, if you want, and buy a new place together. Or I can move in here. I don’t care.”
“Dar, it’s your safe space. We can—” I begin, but he’s already shaking his head.
“No. No, Savvy. You are my safe space. You are my home—you are my fucking partner.” His voice cracks, and his arms tighten around me as tears spill over my cheeks. “Baby, I love you. I’m so in love with you. It’s impossible for me to stop feeling guilty for the impact my disorder will have on your life. You deserve perfection, and I’m the furthest thing from that. I trust you, though, more than I’ve ever trusted anyone. If you tell me you’re in this, that you can handle it, then we’ll figure out the rest.”
I’m nodding before he’s finished speaking. I’ve never felt this way before, have never experienced so much relief and fear and hope all at once.
Life is messy. Fights and misunderstandings happen. Dar’s disorder will never stop being something we need to watch, and I’m hardly without my own issues.
Things won’t be perfect. I don’t want them to be.
I want someone who is going to screw up, then break speed limits to come after me and fix it because he loves me as much as I love him.
Still wrapped around Dar like a monkey, standing on my father’s walkway with the disapproving eyes of Mrs. Paul from next door on us, my hands frame his face. “I’m in this.”
His throat bobs, worry still shining in his dark eyes even while holding me tighter. “Just like that?”
“Yup.” My smile is effortless as the last shadows of fear and doubt fall, replaced by so much happiness that it might last me forever. “I love you too, Wilder. Got a problem with that?”
The hot, demanding kiss I get in response confirms he does not, in fact, have a problem with that.
We sway on the spot, clinging to each other, until Dar has the presence of mind to begin moving toward the front door. “Say it again,” he rasps, and I can tell by the tremor in his muscles that he isn’t quite past the fear and guilt that prompted him to follow me here.
I work my fingers through the coarse hairs of his beard, loving the way he leans into my touch, like he craves it. It’s not something I’ll ever take for granted. “I love you.”
Another searing kiss, but we break apart laughing when he steps off the walkway and has to pause to yank his leg out of a bush.
“You can put me down,” I pant as we resume our path, Dar’s hands palming my ass.
He shakes his head, reaching blindly into the bag still hanging over my shoulder in search of my keys. “I’m… I’m not okay right now, Savvy. I need you close.”
“I love you,” I promise again, and my back hits the front door, pinned in place as our lips meet once more. His teeth graze my bottom lip, and the tiny gesture makes me melt, arching closer.
“Fuck, baby,” he groans, pulling away to fumble one-handed with my keys. I attack his neck, kissing and biting as wetness coats my panties. The friction I’m getting from rocking against him isn’t enough.
There are things we need to talk about and I have to get to work soon, but even if I were physically capable of peeling myself off this man (which I’m not), I wouldn’t do it. Ten minutes ago, I was fighting back tears, not sure what the future held, and now Dar is holding me in his arms and promising to love me forever.
Responsibility can suck it.
Clattering through the door, Dar only narrowly avoids tripping over the bunched-up entryway mat, but he still doesn’t release me. Urgency is strung tightly between us, pulling with every step. By the time we make it into the living room, both of us are panting.
“I need you.” I don’t want to let go of him, but there doesn’t seem to be a way around it.
As my feet find the floor and my hands move to the hem of my T-shirt, though, Dar stops me. “Let me.”
Oh god.
He undresses me with a level of self-restraint that’s torturous. The silence in the house presses in on us, making every gasp or rustle of clothing so much more erotic. When the last piece falls to the ground, so does Dar. He kneels at my feet, dropping hot, wet kisses from my belly button up to each pebbled nipple, taking his time laving attention on both.
“Dar,” I plead, gripping his shoulders as he moves to my ribs, skimming his nose over the dark ink there.
There’s a quiet grunt in response. “I’m going to marry you someday.”
My heart shoots into my throat. “Okay.”
“Properly,” he continues, kissing each word of my tattoo. “You’ll wear a dress. There will be people there. We’re going to dance.”
Tears are burning behind my eyes, the raw emotion of the moment bleeding into the frustration and need that’s still so potent. “I’d like that,” I whisper, barely able to speak past the heart still lodged in my throat.
His hands start at the backs of my ankles and move upward, touching every inch of me, except where I need him most. They pause on my lower back, and Dar lifts his gaze to mine.
How could I ever have thought his eyes are cold? There’s so much there. Love and hope and joy. My whole future, staring back at me.
“I’m going to build us a home.”
I nod, my bottom lip trembling. “I’d like that too.”
His smile is breathtaking. “I’m going to get you pregnant.”
My answering laugh is bordering on hysterical. “We can start practicing now, if you want.”
He does want.
I giggle as I collapse back onto the floor, my thighs spread. Dar is still dressed in the sweatpants and T-shirt he was wearing earlier, and my mouth goes dry when I see the little dark spot over the head of his cock. A second later, it’s gone, and Dar is hovering over me, naked and hungry.
He doesn’t check if I’m ready for him; we both know I am. And when he fists his cock, guiding all those inches into my body, my back bows off the floor and a cry shatters the quiet of the house.
“Shhh.”My back burns as his first thrust pushes me over the carpet. Dar grunts in pleasure, pressing his forehead to mine, and the noise alone is enough to make me wetter. “You’re mine now, baby. No going back.”
Another powerful thrust, and I can sense he’s losing it.
I love the change that comes over him when he’s inside me. It’s gradual at first, his control slipping with every smooth pump of his hips, until he can’t help but lose himself in me, his body taking what it needs from mine.
Nothing turns me on more.
“Yours,” I echo, and his pace begins to stutter. “You can do what you like with me.”
Dar curses, and the arms framing my body flex. “Yeah? Hold your legs open—yeah, like that—gonna fuck you rough now.”
My hands grip the backs of my knees, holding myself open and exposed as the man on top of me lets loose.
Every muscle in his body is strained as he pulls back and drives forward, bearing down on me with all his strength and fucking me into the carpet. Our lips meet, and he kisses me, muffling my cries.
I thought I’d seen Dar unleashed before, but it wasn’t like this. We’re both flayed open, raw and vulnerable from the events of this morning, and it’s like he’s trying to get deeper than he ever has.
“So goddamn tight, every fucking time, baby,” he groans against my lips, one hand winding through my hair and pulling hard enough for it to hurt.
I’m shaking now, and the wet slap of his cock is getting faster. We’ve barely begun, and already I feel my orgasm threatening to swallow me whole.
He knows it too.
The hand in my hair tightens. “Watch,” Dar grits out. “Watch me fuck you.”
He lifts himself off me, just enough for me to look between our bodies, and my mouth falls open at what I see. It’s primal. He’s big and hard, and I’m small and soft, but the differences between us don’t stop him from needing me. He pumps and pumps, takes and takes, and I don’t realize that he’s giving too until my orgasm swallows me whole.
I come, clawing at his back as lights burst inside my eyelids and my breaths come in ragged sobs. Dar isn’t far behind. I’ve barely begun to collapse back onto the carpet when he presses deep, his face slack with pleasure as his cum fills me.
It’s everything.
“Oh my god,” I half laugh, half cry, my muscles weak as the man I love showers my face with kisses, his big hands cradling my face. The sweetness of the moment should be strange after the roughness of our coupling, but it’s not.
Dar collapses onto his back beside me, reaching up to wipe damp hair off his forehead.
We gaze at each other.
“I really am going to do it,” he says quietly, his hand finding mine in the space between us.
My heart flutters. “Which one? Marry me? Get me pregnant? Build us a house?”
“Yes.” His tone is so dry and matter-of-fact that I laugh, rolling over to press my face into his neck and breathe in his familiar warm, morning smell. “I’m not going to sell Galactic Guild.” I hadn’t decided until this moment, but as soon as I say the words out loud, I know they’re right.
Dar hums, kissing the crown of my hair. “Don’t keep it because you think I want you to. I was scared, Savvy. I thought… I don’t know what I thought, but it wasn’t the truth.”
“It was the OCD talking?”
He nods jerkily, and I curl closer, holding him tighter. “I love you so much. It fucking kills me that this has become your problem too.”
“If it were me, would you think it’s too much to handle?”
“Of course not.”He sounds offended that I even asked.
I flick him. “Well then. We’re in this together. Partners, remember? Maybe we should schedule some sessions with your therapist so I can stop consulting Doctor Google about the best ways to support you.”
Dar blows out a shaky breath, and I feel him nod. “Yes. That’s—yes.”
Kissing his chest one more time, I sit up, stretching. “And I’m not keeping Galactic Guild because you want me to.”
“Why, then?” he asks, following me into a seated position and reaching for his pants.
I hesitate. “It’s kind of… proof that I’m more than I thought I was. Before this, I think I got comfortable with being a failure. Losing jobs, sabotaging relationships, letting my college roommate pierce my nipples?—”
“That’s where you got them?”
“Yup. I almost had to take them out because of the infections, but I got some antibiotics at the tropical fish store and it cleared right up.” There’s a choking noise to my right, and I grin, reaching for my panties. “Anyway, I just kind of accepted I was an idiot, but when I had no other option than to succeed, I did it. I mean, maybe. We haven’t even opened yet. Things are going in the right direction, at least.”
I start to get to my feet, but a warm hand catches my hand. I turn to look at Dar, who is gazing at me wearing my favorite stern-principal expression. “You did it, Savvy.”
My heart is so full as I nod. “Yeah. I guess I did.”