Chapter 8 #2
She's right. She's almost always right about this specific thing—the way I can take a future problem and carry it into a present moment that didn't need it yet. She has always been better at living in the day that's actually happening.
I try to let it go.
It doesn’t go very far.
"Yes, ma'am," I say.
She settles back against my chest. I pull her in, and for a while, we just watch the movie that neither of us could summarize if asked.
"Shane leaves the same day," I say, after a while. "Joe wanted us both acclimated at the same time. Does Katie know yet?"
"I don't think so." She tilts her head slightly. "She's going to handle it the same way she handles everything Shane-related."
"Which is?"
"Badly, then fine."
"Did you have a good Christmas?" I ask.
Her beautiful smile lights up her face and her eyes. "Yes, this has been the best Christmas ever. You're the best man, Luke."
"No, I'm not," I say seriously. Her face drops when she hears my tone. "I'm the groom." I burst out laughing, and she smacks me repeatedly with the couch pillow.
The past six days have escaped from us like grains of sand through our fingers.
Andi had the week off from rehearsal since the various band members scattered to different states for the holidays with their families.
We've spent every minute of every day and night together.
Even the dreaded day-after-Christmas shopping that I may never recover from.
I thought this time alone with her would give me my fill, hold me over until I could see her again, but the opposite has happened.
I don't want to go without her. I don't want to leave her.
"So, Mack called today," I start, and see her cringe.
"And?" she asks tentatively.
"Syndi sent over a prep document for the first round of interviews," I say. "Twelve pages. With a glossary."
Andi laughs—genuinely, the full one. "Did you read it?"
"I read the glossary."
"Luke."
"It had very small print."
She shakes her head. "She's trying to help you. The press attention will only build once you're in camp and the fight is announced. You need to be ready for it."
"I know." I look at the ceiling. "I just didn't expect the career to come with homework."
"The career came with Mack," she says. "Homework is the easy part."
She's not wrong. She's also looking at me with the expression she has when she knows I'm understating something.
"You'll be good at it," she says. Not cheerleading. Just a fact she's already decided.
"You don't know that."
"I know you." She tips her head back against my shoulder. "You walk into a room, and people pay attention. You've always done that. Syndi's just going to point a camera at something that's already there."
"Maybe she can help make me look cool," I say jokingly, turning my head to show her my best side in vogue style.
"I hate to be the one to break it to you, babe, but you're not giving her much to work with right now."
She tries to hide her smile, miserably, but it's the insult that counts.
"Yeah. Andi?" I move slowly, but she's already watching me closely.
"Yes?"
"You need to run."
She shrieks, jumps up from the couch, and runs as fast as her laughter will allow her. As she rounds the loveseat, I jump over it and catch her in my arms. "Silly girl. Did you really think you'd get away with that?"
In my usual fashion, I throw her over my shoulder and trot up the stairs with her laughter echoing off the walls.
When I reach the bed, the realization that this is our last full night together for a very long time hits me full force.
Right in the chest. It feels like a vise is squeezing the breath out of me just thinking about leaving her tomorrow morning.
As I put her down, I gently stroke her face with my knuckles, drinking in every detail of her face like it's the last time I'll see her.
She feels the change in the air and joins me in a more serious, somber manner.
Her hands reach up to cradle my face. Her touch is soft and loving as she gently strokes my cheeks and runs her fingers through my hair.
My eyes involuntarily close for a moment as I commit the feeling of her touch and scent to my memory.
Her plump, soft lips lightly brush mine in the most erotic way before I feel her tongue lightly flick against the part in my lips.
My lips part to consume every bit she's giving me.
I thread my fingers through her hair, tilt her head for better access, and thoroughly kiss her.
Our tongues sway in their own erotic dance, rubbing, stroking, and massaging.
Moving from her mouth, I trail kisses along her jaw to her ear, and then down her neck to the indentation at her collarbone.
The taste of her skin, the silky feel of her neck, and the chill bumps that reveal her desire are my aphrodisiacs.
"I love you. You drive me crazy, baby," I murmur, my lips against her skin.
Her fingers find the hem of my shirt, and she slowly lifts it, letting her fingers trail across my skin, heating me to the core.
I'm already breathing heavily, but not from any exertion.
It's from pure desire. Snatching my shirt over my head, I toss it to the side and watch her as she traces my muscles with her fingers.
I lose all semblance of control. Before I know it, we're on the bed, my body covering hers.
My arms frame her face, our foreheads touching as we become one.
All the feelings she's kept bottled up now flow freely.
The first tear escapes from her eye and rolls down her temple, only to be quickly followed by a small river.
My lips graze the shell of her ear as I whisper my love for her and give her all I have. All my love. All of me.
"I can't get enough of you, baby," I grunt. "Don't plan on getting any sleep tonight."
"I don't need sleep. I only need you. Luke."
The way we're joined together as one person is sheer perfection. The way her body accommodates me, molds to fit me, it's as if she's made for only me.
She is the only one for me.
"I love you, Luke," she reassures me, like she's reading my mind. "Only you." She kisses me, and within seconds, I feel her smile against my lips. "Already?"
"Oh, yeah, baby. Again."