Chapter 31
Anders
*coffee emoji* ?
I feel bad that you’re always the one getting the coffee
Anders
Why? I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want to do it.
I guess. But I can get it on Friday.
Anders
I like buying your disgusting tar water Bex. I like buying you coffee. I like you, okay?
Okay.
I wake up in a pitch black room with a strong arm wrapped firmly around my middle and delicious beard stubble grazing my shoulder.
Last night was quite possibly the best night of my life. This whole weekend has been something out of a fairy tale, but reality starts to hit as I blink my eyes, trying to orient myself. I look over at the clock on the nightstand and see that it’s just after ten in the morning. Damn, those blackout curtains are nice.
“What time is it?” comes the ruggedly, sleepy voice behind me.
“Ten-ish,” I respond.
“Mmmkay. Just a few more minutes until the masseuse gets here. Think we can sneak in a quickie?”
I turn in his grip and sling my leg over his, kissing him on his nose. “You’re insatiable, you know that?”
“Always will be, when it comes to you,” he mutters, his eyes still closed.
The way he speaks with such certainty about the future—our future—makes my stomach swoop. I can’t tell if it’s a butterflies swoop or more of an I’m-going-to-vomit swoop, but it’s there all the same.
“I can hear you overthinking,” he says as he nuzzles his face between my breasts. “Mmm, I like it here.”
A laugh pops out of me. “You are ridiculous! If the masseuse is almost here, we should get cleaned up. This room smells like sex.”
“My new favorite smell, I’ve decided,” he says on a yawn.
I kiss him one more time, because damn I really can’t help myself, before wriggling out of his grip, hopping out of bed, and flinging open the curtains.
He dramatically throws the comforter over his face and yells, “THE LIGHT!” entirely too loud for someone who seemed so sleepy only a moment ago.
“No wonder you’re an actor, you’re very good,” I tease.
Anders peeks his eyes over the top of the covers and mumbles, “And you’re an evil woman. Gloriously naked, but still evil.”
“I’m going to hop in the shower, care to join me?”
The theatrics are gone and he’s out of the bed and into the bathroom, already starting to turn the taps before I even have the chance to finish my question. I do, however, have the chance to admire his beautiful bubble butt as he hurries across the room.
I huff a laugh. “I guess that’s a yes.”
I make a mental note to reward Anders’ foresight. Booking an in-room massage after the night we had was precisely what the doctor ordered.
As we walk down to the subway, because I insisted I pay for something on this trip, and neither of us wanted to chance finding parking in the city. I can’t help but think back to an hour ago when some impossibly strong woman was working all of the knots out of my back with impressive accuracy. I definitely need to find someone who can do that back home, though I’m not sure I trust anyone in Sassafras to massage me.
Anders reaches over and laces our fingers together, pulling me closer to him so we can weave through the crowds without getting separated.
“Where are we going, again?” I ask.
I’ve been to the city several times over the years, especially since it was an easy trip to make from Massachusetts, but Anders grew up here, so I’m letting him take the lead again today. We checked out of the hotel after our massages, but we’ll have to go back to grab Anders’ car before we head home.
Home. We’ll also need to talk about that today, I suppose.
“Brooklyn,” he replies, answering my earlier question. “There’s a bookstore down there that I want to take you to.”
I perk up at that. “A bookstore?”
He bops me on the nose with his finger and then brings it under my chin to give him better access to my lips. “You’re easy to please, Baby Bardot,” he whispers against them before giving me a deep kiss.
“You know… I’m pretty sure there’s a bookstore in Brooklyn that only sells romance novels,” I muse.
He gives me a panty-melting smirk. “You don’t say!”
“Oh my God! Is that where we are going?”
“Good grief, woman, let me surprise you, please!”
I squeal excitedly and then make a motion to zip my lips and throw away the key.
A while later, we hop off the subway at the Union Street station stop, and I practically jog until we arrive at the bookstore.
Before I can go inside, Anders tugs me into him and cups my face gently. “Take as long as you want in there, I won’t rush you. Pick out a few things and then we’re going to lunch. My only request is that you find something extra dirty for me to read,” he says with a wink.
I can’t contain my excitement as I throw the door open and step into what will now be my favorite spot in the city. Maybe my favorite spot in all of the Northeast.
The whole thing is black, white, and pink, and I immediately see some of my favorites right alongside books I”ve been dying to read.
Anders’ hand comes to the small of my back, pushing me the rest of the way into the shop. “I want one of everything,” I breathe.
He chuckles, wrapping his arms around me and kissing my neck. Then he pulls back, smacks me on the ass, and says, “Go to town.”
So I do.
An hour later I have several books in my arms, including a signed edition from one of my favorite authors, and a cute T-shirt that says “Smut Readers Do It Better.” I couldn’t resist.
I skip out of the store after we pay, bag swinging merrily in my arms. I’m never this giddy, but Anders knows exactly what will make me happy, exactly how to show me that he pays attention to me and the things I love.
He slings his arm over my shoulder and we walk a few blocks to a cute little cafe with outdoor seating. After ordering coffees and sandwiches, Anders faces me, bracing himself for whatever he’s about to say.
“I just want to thank you,” is how he starts.
“Thank me? You’re the one who planned an amazing weekend for me. I should be the one thanking you!”
He shakes his head. “You don’t understand, Bex. I would do anything for you. Anything to see you smile the way you have this weekend. I love—I love spending time with you,” he finishes. He watches me for a moment before looking down at his coffee and smirking. “I’m just glad you finally gave up the ‘friends with benefits’ bullshit.”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, yeah. You were right, oh wise one. It was a bad idea. I was scared… Still am, if I’m being honest. I mean you’re you!”
“I get that. That’s why I went along with it. It didn’t take me long to learn that my restraint quickly wanes when it comes to you. I couldn’t stay away, so I was willing to take whatever you were ready to give me.” He slides his palm against mine. “I don’t want you to be scared of this anymore. We are in this together, okay?”
I nod, soaking in his words. They’re like a balm to my soul, reassuring in a way that I wasn’t sure I needed.
“There are a few things we need to talk about though. First, I’ll need to tell Professor Callahan that I can’t TA the class anymore. I probably should have already stepped down.”
“Wait, what? Why?”
He looks sheepish now. “Well, I might have gone to him at the beginning of the semester. I wanted to make sure that our relationship, even if it was only a friendship at the time, was disclosed. I wasn’t sure what university policy was on all that. He said it was fine that we knew each other but if it ever became anything more than friends, I was to tell him immediately. I think he could see that I felt strongly about you.”
“Even then?” I ask.
He laughs, but it almost seems forced. “Even then, Baby Bardot. Actually, a lot longer than just this semester.” He looks at me, gauging my reaction to this.
“How long?” I whisper.
Anders squints, looking up to the sky as if the answer is written in the clouds. “There was this night when I was a senior at Hawthorne. You probably don’t remember it, but you had to come pick Gabe and me up from a party. We were totally smashed, Gabe even more than usual. I don’t think you expected me to be there too because you looked so flustered when I got into the car. It was adorable, really. You had these pink bunny slippers on, with your hair tied up in one of those high bun things. You were wearing an oversized sweatshirt that said ‘Thicc and Tired’ on it—your little saying shirts always make me smile, by the way—and I just remember thinking you were the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.”
Oh my God. I know exactly what night he’s talking about.
He continues before I have a chance to respond. “I almost kissed you that night.” His eyes search my face.
“I thought you were going to kiss me that night,” I say, feeling all kinds of shaken up at confessing that.
“I’m glad I didn’t kiss you though,” he admits. I must make a face because he just laughs and squeezes my hand. “Not like that. I was… Things were not good then. I was drinking a lot. Barely passing my classes. I hadn’t been diagnosed with ADHD yet, so I wasn’t managing my life well at all. I wasn’t ready for you, then.”
“Are you ready for me now?”
He reaches around and grabs the bottom of my chair, scooting me until our thighs are squished together. His hand comes up to stroke my cheek, green eyes gazing at me with what can only be described as adoration. “I’ve done a lot of work on myself to get ready for you, Rebecca. I’m ready now. I’m not saying everything will be perfect and we’ll never stumble. But you are worth it to me. We are worth it. The question is, are you ready?”
“I think I am. I know I want to try. You believe in us and I want to, too.” I take a deep breath and then remember what started this conversation. “I also just can’t believe you remember that night,” I laugh, shaking my head.
“How could I forget it? You looked fucking adorable and I already had a crush on you anyway just from coming to Sunday dinners.”
I lean my forehead down on his shoulder, unable to believe that I’m here with Anders freaking Olsson, and he’s felt the same things that I have for all these years. “I also need you to realize that we’ve become those people.”
“What kind of people?” he asks.
“You know. Those couples that sit on the same side of the table because they are so sickeningly obsessed with each other that they can’t stand being apart.”
He puts his arm around my shoulder and pulls me closer to him.
“Baby Bardot, I’ve been dying to be ‘those people’ with you.”
He punctuates that statement with a kiss to my forehead, and my heart swoons even more for this man.