24. Mom #2
He was patient. Reading every sound I made and adjusting, circling the spot that made my fingers twist into the sheets.
I said his name. He pulled me closer, his grip on my thighs tightening, and the heat climbed until I couldn't hold still anymore.
My back arched off the bed and I came apart with his name on my lips.
He kissed his way back up my body. My ribs, the hollow of my throat, the corner of my jaw. I could taste myself on him and instead of pulling away I drew him in.
"You okay?" he murmured.
I watched him reach into the nightstand drawer for a condom. He tore it open and rolled it on. I kissed him once more. Then I turned over. Looked at him over my shoulder.
The look on his face changed. His hands gripped my hips and he pulled me back. I felt him press into me and my face dropped into the pillow.
He started with his chest warm on my back, his lips on my shoulder.
His hand slid up my spine and into my hair and I pressed into him.
He picked up the pace. His breathing roughened at my neck as I matched him, pushing back every time he pushed forward.
His arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me upright. His lips grazed my ear.
"Andy."
I turned my head and he kissed me. Deep, unhurried, his hips never stopping. The tension coiled tighter, deeper, starting somewhere low and spreading through every part of me. His hand slipped between my legs and I broke the kiss because I couldn't breathe.
He finished first. I felt him shudder, his arm tightening around me, his forehead pressing into my shoulder. His hand stayed where it was and I followed a moment later, my fingers gripping his forearm, his name caught somewhere between my teeth and the pillowcase.
We stayed like that until our breathing evened out. He pulled out gently and we collapsed into the sheets. He reached for me and pulled me close, my head finding his chest, his arm settling around me, his thumb tracing my shoulder.
"The other day, Birdie asked if I was going to marry you."
I let it hang in the air for a while. "She did? What did you say?"
"I said it depends if Andy wants me to."
I laughed. I couldn't help it. I lifted my head up and kissed him. I felt him smile against my mouth. He pulled back and looked at me.
"I love you, Andy."
I looked at this man. This man who endured months of my attitude and never once took it personally.
Who showed up at every call, every dinner, every morning with the same steady patience.
Who made me laugh on days I didn't think I could.
Who sat on his couch and listened to the worst parts of my life.
Who braided his daughter's hair badly for six years and never stopped trying.
Who looked at me like I was something worth keeping long before I believed him.
I loved him. I'd loved him longer than I'd been willing to say it.
"Cassandra."
He didn't say anything for a moment. "What?"
"My real name is Cassandra."
His thumb stopped moving on my shoulder. I could feel his heartbeat under my cheek, steady, waiting.
"Cassandra." He brushed his thumb across my cheek. "Why don't you go by Cassandra?"
I leaned into his hand. Closed my eyes for a second.
"When I was a teenager, there were these girls at school. Liz, Jen, and Sanaiya." I traced a line along his collarbone. "They used to say my name like it was a punch line. A pretty name on a girl with dirt on her knees."
"Kids are cruel."
"They were right, though. I didn't know how to carry it. I grew up with my dad. Just him. No mom. No one to show me how to be a woman. He taught me how to shoot and change a tire and read a case file. He was everything a father should be. But he couldn't teach me what he didn't know."
Wyatt's thumb brushed the back of my neck.
"After he died, I started figuring it out on my own.
Little things. Spending too long in aisles I used to walk past. Buying things I never thought I was allowed to want.
" I smiled even though it hurt. "It felt like finding a room in my own house I didn't know was there.
And I thought dating Elliot was part of it. "
I stopped smiling.
"Then he told me I wasn't that kind of girl. That I dress like a man and think like a man. That some days he thought I was more of a man than he was."
Wyatt reached down, took my hand, and raised it. His hand was broad, rough, twice the size of mine. My fingers looked small and dainty next to his.
"A guy who looks at you and feels less like a man? That's not about you, Andy. That's about him."
He laced his fingers through mine.
"You want to know what I see? I see you at a scene and you've got this look, this focus, and nobody in their right mind would mess with you.
And then you're on my kitchen floor braiding Birdie's hair and you're humming and you don't even know you're doing it.
" He shook his head. "Those two things. The same woman. I can't get over it."
I laughed and kissed him.
"Only my mom and dad ever called me Cass. And now you."
His hand came up and tucked my hair behind my ear.
"Cass," he said. "I like it."
He kissed me. Slow. Like he understood exactly what I'd just handed him.