Chapter 34
ALFIE
“What?” I answer, keeping my voice low to not wake Tara, who’s curled up against my side surrounded by textbooks.
“That art piece...” Drake’s voice sounds strange. Rougher than usual. “The animation you posted. It’s... beautiful.”
I sit up straighter, dislodging one of Tara’s books. This doesn’t sound like Drake—perfectly polished Drake who measures success in stock prices and merger deals.
“Have you been drinking?” It’s the only explanation I can think of.
He laughs, but it’s hollow. “Maybe. Probably. Lisa’s at her parent’s again.” A pause. “Third time this month.”
I stay silent, not sure what to say. Drake and I don’t do this—don’t share real things, don’t acknowledge cracks in our perfect facades.
“You know why I pushed so hard about Marcie?” His voice drops lower. “I thought... if you were as trapped as I am, maybe it wouldn’t feel so fucking suffocating.”
“Drake—”
“No, let me finish. I see you with Tara, how you look at her like she’s.
.. everything. And I realized I’ve never looked at Lisa that way.
Never will.” He takes a shaky breath. “Mother orchestrated everything. The ‘accidental’ meetings, the joint family vacations. By the time I realized what was happening, it felt too late to say no.”
Tara stirs beside me, and I run my fingers through her hair absently, soothing her back to sleep. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I don’t want that for you. Either of you.” The sound of ice clinking against glass carries through the phone. “The way you captured her in that animation—like she’s made of light or something. No one in our world looks at anything that way. Not anymore.”
I think about my sketchbook full of Tara, about trying to capture the way she brings color to everything she touches. “I never expected you to understand that.”
“Yeah, well.” He clears his throat. “I’m trying to understand a lot of things lately. But listen—I talked to Mother. Told her to back off about the whole marriage thing. You and Tara, that’s real. And maybe one of us should get to have that.”
Something tight in my chest loosens. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. Just...” He pauses again. “Be happy, little brother. And maybe teach me how to draw someday? Lisa’s birthday’s coming up and I thought...”
I actually laugh, surprising myself. “You want art lessons?”
“Stranger things have happened. You fell in love with a girl who wears rainbow socks to family dinners.”
“True.” I look down at Tara, at how she’s drooling slightly on my physics textbook. “Hey, Drake? For what it’s worth... it’s not too late, you know, to want something real.”
The silence stretches so long I think he’s hung up. Finally, he says quietly, “Maybe not. I’ll see you at Christmas?”
“Yeah. And Drake? Thanks for calling.”
After we hang up, I sit there for a long time, watching Tara sleep. Thinking about choices and courage and how sometimes, the strongest thing you can do is admit when you’re not happy.
I pull my sketchbook closer, starting a new drawing. This one’s different—two brothers, standing back-to-back, one reaching for the stars while the other faces corporate towers. But there’s a bridge between them.
“You’re going to burn the sauce,” I murmur against Tara’s neck, arms wrapped around her waist as she stirs the pasta.
“I am not.” She leans back into me, stubborn as ever. “I know how to make a marinara sauce.”
“You sure, Tink?” I ask, because we both know she’s not the best cook. “Didn’t you set off a fire alarm before?”
“That was one time!” But she’s laughing, the sound vibrating through both of us. “And anyway, I’ve been practicing.”
I press a kiss to her shoulder, exposed by the oversized t-shirt she’s wearing - one of mine that I have no idea when she took, but I don’t care. It looks better on her than it ever did on me. “I missed you so much, Tink.”
She turns in my arms, wooden spoon pointed at me accusingly. “Then maybe don’t push me away next time you’re having an existential crisis?”
“Deal.” I steal a quick kiss. “Though you have to admit, my existential crisis led to some pretty good art.”
“The sketchbook was...” She bites her lip. “No one’s ever made anything like that for me before.”
“Well, no one’s ever been a supernova before.” I reach around her to lower the heat under the pan. “Speaking of space, I got the official offer from CalTech today.”
She stills. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I watch her face carefully. “It’s a five-year program.”
“In California.”
“In California.” I confirm. “But they have some of the best natural history museums on the west coast. And I hear they’re always looking for passionate educators who can make science accessible.”
Her eyes widen. “Are you suggesting...”
“I’m suggesting nothing. Just stating facts about potential opportunities. For someone who might be interested in museum curation.”
“Alfie Spencer”—she turns fully to face me—“are you trying to plan a future with me?”
“Maybe.” I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “Is that okay?”
“I don’t know.” But she’s smiling. “Sounds kind of serious. Like something we should think about carefully.”
“Oh really?”
“Mm-hm.” She rises on her tiptoes, arms sliding around my neck. “We should probably discuss it thoroughly. Make lists. Weigh pros and cons.”
“The sauce is definitely burning now.”
“Don’t care.” She pulls me down for a kiss that tastes like promises. “I’ve been thinking about my career path actually.”
“Yeah?”
“The museum thing, it’s not just about running from academia anymore. I really want it. To show kids what I saw in London, to make them fall in love with science...”
The passion in her voice makes my chest tight. This is what I love about her - how fully she throws herself into things that matter.
“You’ll be amazing at it.”
“You think?” She looks suddenly vulnerable. “It’s not very prestigious. Not like what my parents want...”
“Hey.” I tilt her chin up. “Since when do you care about prestigious?”
“I don’t. I just...”
“Want to make a difference,” I finish. “Which you will. Probably while wearing something pink and covered in dinosaurs.”
She laughs, bright and real. “You know me too well.”
“Getting there.” I pull her closer, breathing in the scent of her shampoo mixed with burning garlic. “Still learning.”
“Well,” she says thoughtfully, “we’ve got time.”
“Actually, I think there’s still something more that I need to learn.” I purr, exposing more of her thigh.
She bristles at my touch.
“Oh yeah? What about?”
“There’s maybe a few inches of your body that I haven’t explored thoroughly enough.”
The pasta is definitely ruined. But with Tara in my arms, I couldn’t care less.
“Turn that stove off, baby, so we don’t have another fire. Then I’m going to take you into the bedroom and get you on your knees.”
Tara’s eyes darken as she reaches behind her to switch off the stove. “Is that so?” she murmurs, her voice low and husky.
I nod, already backing her towards the bedroom. “Oh yes. I think it’s time for some hands-on learning.”
She grins wickedly, fingers tangling in my hair as she pulls me down for a searing kiss. “I do love your dedication to education.”
We barely make it through the doorway, hands roaming, clothes hitting the floor in a scattered trail behind us. Her skin is warm beneath my palms, soft and inviting, and every quiet gasp, every little sigh, winds me tighter.
Tara tugs me closer, her fingers threading into my hair, but then she stills, breathless. “Wait.”
I pause instantly, searching her eyes.
She exhales a shaky laugh. “Just—slow down. I want to remember this.”
Something in my chest pulls tight. “Yeah,” I murmur, brushing my lips against hers. “Me too.”
I take my time, relearning every inch of her, tracing the curves I already know by heart. She melts beneath me, arching, responding to every touch, every kiss. When I finally press her into the mattress, her blonde hair spilling over the pillows, she’s all I can see, all I want.
“You’re unreal,” I murmur, trailing a kiss along her jaw.
She rolls her eyes, smiling as she pulls me down again. “Less talking, more kissing.”
I smirk. “Bossy.”
Her laugh is lost between us as I claim her mouth again, deep and slow, a rhythm that drowns out the rest of the world.
“Alfie...” She gasps as I trace a path down her stomach, my lips following the soft rise and fall of her breath.
I look up at her, “What do you need, baby?”
“You.” She breathes. “Always you.”
Those words ignite something primal within me. I surge up to capture her lips in a passionate kiss, pouring all my love and desire into it. Tara responds eagerly, her hands roaming my back, nails lightly scraping my skin.
“I love you,” I murmur against her lips. “God, Tara, I love you so much.”
Her eyes widen. Fuck, you’re not supposed to tell a girl you love her for the first time when she’s naked right?
“Shit, I’m sorry. I should’ve waited for the right moment, but fuck, Tara, it’s true.”
Tara’s eyes shimmer with unshed tears, a radiant smile spreading across her face. She cups my cheek tenderly, her thumb brushing against my lips.
“Alfie,” she whispers, her voice thick with emotion. “I love you too. So much.”
Relief and joy flood through me. I capture her lips in a deep, passionate kiss, trying to convey everything I’m feeling. Tara responds with equal fervor, her body arching into mine.
When we finally break apart, both breathless, she lets out a soft laugh. “You know, I think this might actually be the perfect moment.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Naked and sweaty?”
“Honest,” she corrects, running her fingers through my hair. “Raw. Just us, no pretenses.”
I can’t help but smile. “Leave it to you to find the poetry in my awkward timing.” I press a soft kiss to her forehead. “But you’re right. It feels right.”
Tara’s eyes sparkle with mischief. “You know what else would feel right?”
“What’s that?” I ask, though I have a pretty good idea.
She wraps her legs around my waist, pulling me closer. “If you finish what you started.”
I grin, trailing kisses down her neck. “As you wish, Tink.”
It’s different this time - more intense, more meaningful. Every touch, every kiss is charged with our newly spoken love. Tara’s fingers dig into my shoulders as she arches beneath me, her breathy moans filling the air.
“Alfie”—she gasps, her eyes locked on mine—“I’m close.”
I increase my pace, feeling my own release building. “Let go, Tink,” I murmur, my lips brushing her ear. “I want to feel you come undone.”
With a soft cry, Tara writhes and releases beneath me, her body trembling. The sight of her lost in ecstasy pushes me over the edge, and I empty inside of her, her name on my lips.
We lay tangled together afterward, catching our breath. I trace lazy patterns on her skin, marveling at how perfectly she fits in my arms. Tara nuzzles into my chest, pressing a soft kiss over my heart.
“So,” she says after a while, her voice playful. “California, huh? I guess Alex will be there.”
I chuckle, pulling her closer. “Only if you want to. We don’t have to decide anything right now. We’ve got years.”
She props herself up on an elbow, looking down at me with a soft smile.
“Years,” Tara repeats, her eyes sparkling. “I like the sound of that.”
I reach up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “Me too. Though I have to warn you, I’m not always going to be this smooth and romantic.”
She laughs, the sound warming me from the inside out. “I’m counting on it. It’s part of your charm.”
“Oh, so I’m charming now?” I tease, pulling her back down to me.
“Mmm, sometimes,” she murmurs against my lips. “When you’re not being infuriating.”
I kiss her softly, reveling in the feeling of her bare skin against mine. “I’ll try to keep the infuriating to a minimum.”
“Don’t you dare,” Tara says, nipping at my ear.