Chapter 28
Between the Raindrops
Ayear of tension unlocks, and what’s left of our uncertainty shatters.
Jude’s mouth crashes into mine as rain rolls off the tin roof over our heads. Everything we’ve held back pours out in a rhythmic sequence of tugging and tasting, and our flimsy defenses wash away under a single wave of emotion.
Our lips don’t politely request—they demand, drinking each other in with the taste of rainwater and the specific minty sweetness I always knew would be there. He kisses like he sings, with passion and intensity, raw and exposed.
The needy desperation of his touch tells me everything I need to know.
This kiss didn’t happen by chance, or proximity, or some surface-level attraction.
It happened because it was always going to happen.
It happened because we were inevitable.
I gasp when he lifts me, pressing me against the door for support while he moves my hair to trail warm kisses down my neck.
“Four,” I scratch out, wrapping my legs around his waist, coaxing his mouth back to mine. “The door … it’s one, two …” I inhale sharply, getting lost as his mouth drags across my cheek to my ear.
“Three,” he breathes. His mouth below my ear ignites a fire I’ve never felt before as he returns to my lips, working his way down the other side of my neck. “Four … got it.”
He shifts my weight, and I grip him tighter when the door falls open behind me.
“I got you.”
“I know.”
He slips inside, pushing the door shut with his foot while feeling the wall for a light switch. Lightning flashes through the window over the sink, and it’s enough to see the couch, so he gives up on the light and sits with me straddled over his lap.
Every one of my senses is overwhelmed when he begins to remove his rain-soaked shirt, undoing the remaining buttons and peeling it from his skin. It’s pasted to his arms where it’s rolled up, so I tug the sleeve over his forearm and hand, freeing him from the offensive material.
Stupid shirt.
Fantasies number one and two have now been checked off, but familiar doubts begin to creep in. If something seems too good to be true, it probably is.
I don’t get to keep good things.
I’ll want this forever, but he’ll lose interest.
Our game is over.
“Lu?” He meets my lips again and brings my hand to his chest. His heart beats wildly under my touch while his eyes search my face.
How is he so achingly perfect?
That small bandage from the other day is gone, but it’s too dark to make out the detail of what’s there. A scrape maybe? I’ll ask later if any part of my brain still works after this.
“I’m … freezing. Are you, um, cold?” I may be deflecting so I don’t ruin this moment with feelings, but despite the fire inside me, I am shivering. The window unit air conditioner still blows full blast, and I’m soaked. He rubs his warm hands over my arms.
“I can hear your gears turning, Punk. I’m sorry. I should’ve asked you first.” He waits patiently for our breaths to slow. “Are we okay?”
“Always. We’re always okay. I’m just freaking out a little bit.” I stare helplessly into his eyes, hoping I haven’t ruined everything. I feel like there’s some piece of information I haven’t considered and this will all blow up in my face.
“You still want me to be in charge?”
“Please,” I whisper.
“It’s just you and me. Don’t overthink it. I’ve done enough overthinking for both of us. There isn’t any challenge we can’t find a solution for. Calm problem-solving, remember?”
He gathers my wet hair from my shoulders and neck, twisting it behind me before leaning in for a gentle kiss.
“We will not dissect every detail of the last year, and I’ll try not to obsess about what I should’ve done differently.
I wanted you the minute you fell into my arms, and overthinking almost cost me everything. I won’t let it happen again.”
Tears pool in my eyes. “I feel so stupid.”
“No one should ever make you feel stupid for trying to love them, Lu.”
“You would never …”
“I. Will. Never.”
“I’m so sorry, Jude.” I’m ruining what has been one of the best days of my life.
“You don’t owe me an apology. He lied to you, and I didn’t tell the truth loud enough.”
“But I stayed with him when I knew. I think I always knew.”
“I understand.” He frames my face between his hands, swiping tears with his thumbs and kissing every doubt off my lips. “We’re fixing it now.”
“But I don’t want anything to change between us,” I blurt.
His familiar laugh soothes my panic.
“Nothing? Are you sure?” He grins and tugs me against his bare chest, relaxing into the sofa cushions. “We’ve already implemented a few changes, and I think it’s going pretty well. Don’t you?”
Heat radiates off him, and the steady pulse of his heart against my cheek is my new favorite song. Every part of my soul feels at home in a storm in the middle of the woods.
“How do you do that? Anything I worry about … Poof. Gone.”
His laugh rumbles against me. “I’ve mentally debated every objection either of us could possibly have for the last year.”
I place a few innocent kisses near his collarbone and slide my hand over his shoulder, down his chest and along his side, resting my hand over the inked words that starred in my dreams this week—both awake and asleep.
I feel him suck in a breath, and his muscles tighten under my touch.
“Excuse me, ma’am. Keep that up and I’ll make Annie trade roommates.”
“What do the words say here?” I ask, close to his face so he can hear me over the relentless pounding on the metal roof. And because I want to stare at him.
Those sleek cursive words look like nothing more than a wavy line from a distance, but I know they say something. He doesn’t do anything without a reason.
He lifts a hand to draw a circle with his fingertip on the back of my shoulder blade before cradling my face.
“That’s an ironic question, Lu.”
His touch leaves a trail of fire that sends heat down my neck.
“You saw mine?” I whisper.
He swipes over the remaining tears as he presses his mouth to mine.
Is that a yes? I forget what we were talking about. I forget how to talk.
This kiss is deliberate and intentional in a way I could’ve described in intricate detail before I had any right to know. He’s firm but gentle, tenderly leading me in a dance we already knew but never put into motion.
I know this kiss the way I know when it’s him opening my door or his footsteps in my kitchen. The exact way the couch sinks when he sits near me. And the way every problem in my life feels like something he could check off his to-do list in an hour if I’d just let him help.
He’s proving he’ll give more than he takes with every fleeting stroke of his lips, his tender restraint more powerful than any force of nature.
Urging me to trust him in perfectly measured beats, he tells me, loud and clear …
He’s mine.
Skimming my lips with his tongue, he slows the rhythm. As if asking permission.
Not just for now but for always.
My hands roam back to his hair, inviting him to deepen the kiss, our tongues exchanging a year’s worth of words we couldn’t find the courage to say. He sits up straight and pulls me feverishly closer, giving him better access to explore my mouth and every last corner of my heart.
He’s been carrying the key for months.
Because it’s his.
He owns it.
I could shamelessly steal every ounce of serotonin from this man. My only complaint is that it’s dark and I’d like to explore all the artwork on his chest and shoulder. I want to study it in detail. I want a doctorate in all things Jude.
“I wasn’t prepared to have matching tattoos already.” I laugh at the irony, still self-conscious that my tattoo contains lyrics from the song that bears his name.
“The picture Sam sent stole my breath, Lu,” he says, tucking my freezing arms under his. “You’re always gorgeous, but he should’ve made sure I was sitting for that.”
Suddenly feeling shy, I debate whether it was sweet or an act of betrayal on Sam’s part. “Th-thanks. I didn’t know he took it.” I meet his gaze. “I should beat the Skittles out of him.”
Jude narrows his eyes at me. “Can’t believe he got to see it before me.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to …”
“Lu, I’m kidding. I see I’ve got my work cut out for me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, no more apologies. I want the full-time job—the privilege of showing you how you should be treated.”
My eyes fill again. “You do too much for me already.”
“And you apologize too much. There’s a right and a wrong way to do everything. That includes loving you.”
How did I ever think I could settle for anyone but him?
“I’m so sorry, Jude. I didn’t think you wanted—”
“I do.” He dizzies me with another kiss, proving quite effective at correcting my behavior.
“If you do that every time,” I taunt, “I’ll probably say it more.”
“Challenge accepted. This is how it’s going to be. You’re allowed to need me. I expect you to need me, because I need you.”
“So bossy.”
“You better believe it. I want you when you’re happy, pissed off, worked up, broken down, and always … always … without a doubt … when you’re sleepy. I want the cuddly jellyfish punk. I want it all.”
I stare at him in awe. “So, what I’m hearing is … you want me to want you?”
“You’re still a punk, you know that?” he says, squeezing my leg.
My tears and laughter compete for dominance, spilling out all at once. And we’re still soaking wet. He looks like a model who was sprayed to glisten for a photoshoot, and I look like Harley Quinn got hosed.
He’s calm and controlled as ever. A natural leader wherever he goes, whether he signed up for it or not.
But now I see something more. And I feel it too.
Relief.
I trust him, but can I trust this?
I really want to.
“I’m even more sorry now,” I whisper.
He kisses me with a couple more pecks, his smile playing against my lips.
“Oh, crap! Sam! Did they drive in the storm?”