This Changes Everything

Chapter 35

RORY AND I KISSED IN THE CAB. WE KISSED IN THE HOTEL LOBBY.

We kissed in the elevator. His hands were on my face, and he leaned me against the hallway wall with his hips.

He spun me against his door as he dug through his wallet to get his key card.

It was as if I were having an out-of-body experience.

This was happening.

This was all really happening. Again! With Rory.

With my Rory.

I was having a difficult time believing it, even as it was literally and physically happening.

Rory pushed the door open and backed me up into the room with one hand lightly pressing against my stomach.

His tongue explored mine as if he hadn’t been kissing me nonstop for the last hour, as if he hadn’t kissed me when we were teenagers.

Even so, it felt like we had done this all before, from beginning to end, an infinite number of times, in an infinite number of ways, in an infinite number of lifetimes.

We crossed the room until the back of my legs pressed against his bed. I leaned back fluidly, and he slid on top of me just as seamlessly. He wrapped his arm beneath my body and lifted me up the bed so my head fell into his pillows.

“I’m in your bed, Rory.”

Rory’s mouth drifted from my lips to my neck as he mumbled, “I know. Never leave it, okay?”

“Okay . . .”

His lips fell into mine, and his hands found the bottom of my shirt.

He slowly dragged his fingers up my sides, lifting my shirt over my head.

My hair fell over my shoulders, and he brushed it away.

He kissed my collarbone as he slipped off my bra straps, unhooked my bra, and dropped it to the floor.

He sat up, and I sat with him. I watched his gaze roam my body, truly looking at me for the first time.

His eyes sparkled, and his dimple creased from his small smile as I pulled his shirt over his head.

We both rose to our knees and pulled each other into a full embrace.

Our bare chests and stomachs collided, mirroring our first kiss on the couch when we were only sixteen.

His hands dragged along my shoulder blades, and he delicately kissed my neck.

My hands slipped beneath his waistband and trailed to the front, where I unbuttoned his pants.

“I have thought about this a thousand times,” he said quietly while pulling off the rest of my clothes, as well as his own.

“Me, too. In Vancouver, New York, LA . . . It doesn’t matter where I’ve been . . .” I smiled. “I was always going to love you.”

Rory leaned back and tangled his fingers in my hair.

His eyes searched mine. I had never felt so willing to hand my body and life over to someone.

He pressed his face into my neck and moved his arms around my body to hug me.

His warm breath coated my skin. “I was always going to love you,” he muttered.

He lifted his head, looked into my eyes, then leaned me back on the bed.

He pressed his lips into my navel and traveled down my body, landing between my legs.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this again,” I said, breathless. “I think about that night all the time,” I admitted.

“Tell me what you think about,” he demanded softly.

“All of it.” I sighed. “Your weight on top of me. How you felt inside me. Your mouth on me. My mouth on you . . .”

Rory once again discovered my every moan, gasp, and twitch, and a surge of tension moved through me.

Our fervor and obsession with each other only heightened every time I called his name, or raked my fingers through his hair, or he held me down.

I felt heavy, and my release was ruled entirely by his mouth and fingers.

He smiled against my skin once I started trembling, and I lifted his face to mine.

“I want you to feel me.”

Rory climbed on top of me, and our lips found each other as I guided him inside me.

My body adjusted to him, stretched for him.

It was as though it remembered every which way he had already been let in.

As Rory filled me, he stole all the space inside me—the air in my lungs, the thoughts in my head—and the only thing I needed was more.

He pushed himself all the way in as I pulsed and contracted around him.

A surge of heat overwhelmed me as Rory watched and felt me come for him.

He was enraptured, smiling his quiet, soft smile, his warm eyes bouncing all over my face.

He appeared in awe of how I moved, how I looked, how I sounded, how I felt.

Once my shivering subsided, he released his breath, exhaling softly. “Always you, Ellie.” He brushed his lips gently over mine.

I pressed my hands into my eyes. “You can’t say that.”

He leaned on one arm and moved my hands from my face, still deep inside me. “Why not?”

“Because you’re going to make me cry. I can’t be the person who cries within seconds of having sex with you for the first time in almost a decade. That person is not awesome.”

A couple of uncontrollable tears spilled down my face. Rory brushed them from my cheeks with his thumbs, and we laughed softly together until our laughter faded and we were left gazing into each other’s eyes.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you.” I kissed Rory, knowing I would never again kiss anyone else.

We started moving again as one, our bodies never leaving each other. When we eventually both started coming, he wrapped his arms around me so tightly that I didn’t know where I ended and he began.

Rory and I spent the whole night together, lost in his sheets. The second time we made love was more urgent, more desperate, more everything. It was like we both needed to satiate our addiction to one another.

“My god,” I huffed, as Rory pulled me in to his chest. His breath steamed the back of my neck with his steady panting.

“I feel like we should high-five after that.” Rory breathed out a laugh.

I laughed as well, then lifted my hand over my head, and he happily slapped it.

Rory moved my hair away from my sweaty neck and gently turned my face toward his so he could kiss me. I twisted and shifted into the crook of his armpit and pressed my hand into his chest so I could feel his thumping heartbeat on my palm.

It was the small moments that I told myself to memorize.

The sunrise glowing against his closed eyes and downturned smile.

Remember that, Ellie. Him sitting in bed, his legs hidden in the white sheets, his chest bare, carefully picking finely diced green onions off his eggs.

Remember that, Ellie. How he closed his eyes and tilted his head back in the shower.

How the water fell from the tips of his hair and defined his curls.

Remember that, Ellie. How he pressed my back into the cold wall, with his hand on my neck, while kissing me under the falling water.

Remember that, Ellie. How his face transformed into sadness when I said it was time to go. Remember that, Ellie.

“Do you want me to throw the rest of your stuff into your suitcase?” I put on one of Rory’s T-shirts. I still wasn’t wearing pants, but my underwear (well, a clean pair of his underwear) was finally on, so that was a step in the right direction.

“Yeah, please.” Rory was already dressed in gray sweatpants that looked like they were made for him, a white T-shirt that hugged and hung off his body, and my blue Dodgers hat. He gave me a quick kiss on the nose before going into the bathroom.

I collected every stray item in the hotel room, assuming it belonged to Rory. Rory stepped out of the bathroom, leaned against the doorframe, brushed his teeth, and watched me sit on the suitcase, trying to close it.

“You good, Cainey?” he asked with his mouth full of toothpaste.

“Yup,” I grunted while wrestling with the zipper.

Leaving the toothbrush in his mouth, he came over, lifted me from the suitcase with both hands on my hips, and popped me onto the bed. He then knelt on the suitcase and zipped it closed.

“Thanks.” I smiled from the bed, then put on my pants from the night before.

He tossed me a wink and went back into the bathroom to spit. When he came out again, he sat next to me. He pressed his hand into my thigh and fell backward onto the bed with a sigh.

After putting my shoes on, I fell back with him. “What are you thinking?” I asked quietly.

He turned his head so he was facing me. “Well, I’m feeling pretty bummed that I’m about to get on a plane, but I think I’m doing a good job pretending I’m okay.”

I lifted my hands behind my head. “You’re not regretting anything, are you?” I bit my lip and looked up at the ceiling. “Because this all feels a little spooky . . . and familiar, with last night happening and then us leaving each other this morning.”

Rory sat up, his face showing immediate concern. “Regretting anything? No. Everything feels different. Everything is different. Why would you say that? Are you regretting anything?”

I sat up, too. “No, of course not. But we still live in different countries, and we can’t pretend we don’t.”

He shook his head. “What are you doing right now?” I could see his eyes start to go vacant. “Ellie, you can’t do this. What are you doing?”

I held Rory’s face, forcing him to look at me. “I’m not doing anything. I’m scared about what you’re thinking.”

“Why would you be scared about what I’m thinking? What are you thinking?” Rory pulled my hands down from his face and interlocked our fingers.

“I think this is it for me, Rory.”

“But?” Rory held his breath, concern straining his expression.

I swallowed hard. “But . . . I’ve tried long distance before, and it didn’t work. It was awful, and heartbreaking, and if that happened with you, I wouldn’t recover.”

“What we have tried before is not being together, and that wasn’t working.

For me, that was awful and heartbreaking.

” Rory lifted my hand and kissed my palm.

“I’ll come to LA, you’ll come to Vancouver, and I don’t know when, but eventually .

. . maybe not tomorrow, but the next tomorrow .

. .” He smiled, recalling my words. “We’ll be in the same place at the same time for the rest of our lives.

So we’re not trying anything. We’re doing it.

You just have to love me every day in between. ”

“I already do. I already have. Even when I wasn’t supposed to.” I shrugged. “Whoops.”

Rory kissed my hand again. “Look at me, Ellie.”

I let my eyes fall over Rory’s face as he sat beside me, holding my hands.

His brown hair curled out at the sides of my blue Dodgers hat; the honey mixed inside his dark-brown eyes flickered against the light; his subtle scruff defined his already chiseled jawline; and his freckles were scattered across his nose and the top of his cheeks.

My eyes lifted to connect with his again, and my heartbeat slowed. I knew his face better than my own.

“It’s me,” he said. “Are you really worried about us not being able to make this work?”

“No.”

Rory smiled, carving out his creased dimple.

“Okay. Good.” He stretched over me to grab his black Titleist hat from the bedside table.

He placed it on my head with a loving tug, grounding me against his gentle calm.

“Because this is it for me, too, you know.” Rory leaned in and kissed me just beneath my ear, then stood.

“Time to go, Cains.” He stretched his hands to help me up, but instead of bringing me to my feet, he grabbed my waist and threw me over his shoulder.

“You can’t carry me like this and drag your suitcase around the hotel lobby,” I squealed.

“That’s what bellhops are for.” Rory left me hanging over his shoulder, picked up the phone, and called the front desk. “Hi, I’m ready to check out. Rory Campbell. Could you please send someone to grab my suitcase? I picked up a girl last night and now my hands are full of trouble.”

I howled with laughter. He hung up and shifted my weight on his shoulder to pull out his wallet and toss two hundred dollars onto the nightstand.

“You’re an idiot.” I bit his back.

“Ow!” he cried out, before smoothing his hand over my ass, then spanking it hard with a stinging slap.

“Oh yes! A little more of that next time. What do you think? Do we have ten minutes so you can spank the shit out of me?” I teased playfully.

Rory tossed his head with a loud laugh and threw me back on the bed. He ran to deadbolt the door, tore off his hat and shirt, then jumped on top of me before I could move a muscle.

Zoe, Maddy, and I followed Rory, Orson, Hannah, and Kara’s Uber to the airport.

I was still wearing Rory’s underwear, shirt, and black hat.

The girls pressed their feet into the curb and leaned against the door of my tiny silver Toyota Yaris while I sat cross-legged on the hood.

Rory, Orson, Hannah, and Kara pulled their luggage from the black SUV.

I slid down the hood as Hannah walked up first and gave us each a massive hug, telling us how much she loved us.

Kara was next. She pointed at Zoe. “I’m coming to LA soon, so we should plan something. I want to go to Palm Springs.”

Zoe nodded. “Ooooh, definitely!”

Orson was next. He planted a kiss on all our cheeks, then pinched my face and gave it a light tap. “See you later, Hollywood.” He grinned.

Rory gave Zoe and Maddy hugs, and when he finally made his way to me, he stepped between my legs, tugged on my hips, and pulled me into him, shooting a flare up my spine and through every nerve ending. He quietly muttered, “This is terrible.”

“Yeah,” I sighed, and he leaned down to kiss me.

“I don’t want to go,” he whispered so no one else could hear him. The busy drum of the airport dulled around us.

“Always you, Rory.”

He pulled his face away and tapped the brim of my hat, then brought me in for a hug.

“So, I was thinking,” I mumbled into his neck. “I did a little research this morning, and you said you’ve never been to the Hollywood Bowl.”

“Yeah?”

“And as luck would have it, Guns N’ Roses—”

He didn’t let me finish. “Yes.”

“Are playing there—”

“Yes,” he interrupted again.

“In a couple months.”

“Yes.” He brought his mouth down to mine one last time.

“Okay.” My heart fluttered.

“Okay,” he murmured, opening his eyes and smiling against my mouth.

“Let’s go, first class.” Kara pulled on the back of Rory’s white T-shirt, tightening it around his body and taking him away from my arms.

He walked backward, smiling, not taking his eyes off me. He adjusted his Dodgers hat, but his auburn-tinged hair still flipped out from the sides. I looked at him, and my throat closed. Remember this, Ellie.

Drive safe, he mouthed.

I nodded and moved to the driver’s side of the car. Before I ducked into my car, I called out, “Text me when you land.”

He nodded and brought his hand next to his hip, where he bent his middle finger and his ring finger into his palm, subtly telling me in sign language that he loved me.

My arms were still on the roof of my car, so I flipped my wrist up, doing the same.

He smiled and then disappeared into the airport.