She nodded slowly. "Me, too."
I moved closer to her, and then flipped us so she was on top. She sat up, her legs folded on either side of me. Her fingers traced the dips of my abs. She had her wrists full of bracelets. I examined each one carefully. "Surely you can't sleep with eleventy-three bracelets on?"
She giggled. "Eleventy-three?"
"Lucy's brother, Lachlan, swears it's a thing."
"Is Lachlan the one that got me to go out with you?"
I laughed. "Yup."
"Good kid." She started removing the bracelets and setting them on the nightstand.
"He's my favorite." I watched her remove them one by one. The last one stood out; it was brighter and thicker than the rest. I'd seen it before. "This looks familiar."
She took it off and examined it quickly before placing it with the others. "Yeah, your dad gave it to me. It's Tina's—his high school sweetheart."
Now I remembered. I'd seen it in pictures of her.
I picked up Amanda’s hands and ran my thumbs on the inside of her wrists, right over the marks. I gazed up at her, her eyes intently fixated on where my thumbs were skimming. I lifted them and placed a kiss on each one. Her breath caught. I felt her body tense above me.
"Do you want to know about them?" she asked.
Of course I wanted to know. I’d wanted to know since the day I saw them at the bookstore. "Yes." My voice cracked. I cleared my throat.
She sucked in a breath, and then let it all out. "I got it the day of your birthday. It was meant to be a surprise. I was going to show you that night."
My heart dropped. I felt it fall to my stomach.
She placed her forearms on my chest, palm up. "See?" she said, tracing the letters of the tattoo. "LM on one side, AM on the other." She shifted her arms so the tattoos were half connected. "When I do this, the letters form a heart. Because that's what you were to me." Her voice broke. "You were my person, Logan. The other half of my heart." I pulled her down so I could hold her closer. Tighter. Her body began to shake. "Those fucking monsters stole our moment. They stole all our moments." She lifted her head; her tear soaked eyes penetrated mine. "They stole you away from me."
I held her head in my hands and kissed her hard. "No one stole me away from you. I told you that you own me. You've always owned me. I was always yours."
I lifted her wrists to my lips and kissed them again. Closing my eyes, I took a breath. I wanted savor this moment—with her in my arms and our forever in front of us. "Did you ever think to get them removed?" I asked.
"No," she answered quickly. "Never. The year you were gone, I could look at them and remember the feelings I had when I got them, and all those feelings I had for you. The way you made me feel alive, and the way you made me feel loved. The way you made me feel like I was the only girl in the entire world. And how you'd do anything and everything for me. You took my nightmares and turned them into dreams. If ten, twenty, thirty years from now, I look down at them and can still feel all those things, still remember the way I felt—the love I felt when I was with you, then it's worth keeping."
"And you still feel that way about me?"
"No." She shook her head, but her eyes stayed on mine. "Now, I feel more."
"And what if I didn't come back? What if you'd married some other asshole?"
"Then that other asshole would always know that I belonged to you first."
I inhaled slowly, as I let her words sink in. "I love you so fucking much," I told her, right before I kissed her. I needed her to know how I felt; I wanted this kiss to represent it, but I don't think it even came close.
She smiled down at me. "I love you, too, babe."
"Ha." I swallowed down my nerves. "No, Amanda, I don't think you get it." I held her tighter and brought her head to my chest. "I don't just love you. It's like the word I want to use hasn't been invented yet. Maybe it's because no one's ever felt this type of love before. Maybe I'm the first to feel it. I don't know. I can't explain it. But those words—I love you—they just don't seem like enough. Not anymore."
I gripped the back of her shirt with my hand to try to hide the trembling. It didn't work. She felt it right away, like she was a part of me. "Your hand's shaking." She placed her hand on my heart. I'm sure she could feel it.
Thump.
Thump.
"What's going on, Logan?"
I tried to level my breathing, let my body settle down, but it wouldn't change what was happening. It wouldn't change how I felt, or what I wanted to say. So I told her the truth. "I'm trying really hard to stop myself from asking you a really, really, stupid question."
Her head lifted again. "What stupid question?"
"The question." I wanted to ask her to be mine forever.
A gasp escaped before she could stop it. "Oh," she said, her eyes wide.
Then it was silent.
We both stared at each other.
Waiting.
Wanting the other to speak first.
She cleared her throat. "I would've said yes," she whispered.
"I know," I said honestly. "That's why I didn't ask you. It can't be like this. Not now. Not yet."
"I would've if you’d asked me in Vegas, too."
My eyes narrowed. How did she know about that? Then it hit me. The journal. "I thought it would be okay, but it's not. I want to give you everything. The world, remember? When we do—it needs to be right. We have to have everyone's support."
She knew what I meant. We had to tell Ethan.
"I have an idea," she said, kissing my neck softly.
"Mm?" Within seconds, the trembling in my hand had ceased and my heart rate had settled, "What's that?" My hand went under her shirt, the other on her ass; she'd started to move her hips, rubbing herself on my dick. It only took a second before I was hard as a rock.
"I think . . ." She trailed off. Her mouth sucked harder, as it made its way up my jaw.
She drove me crazy. My hand went under her panties, gripping her bare ass. I squeezed hard. She moaned into my skin, pressing harder onto me. My other hand went higher on her back, through the neck hole of my jersey she was wearing. I laced my fingers in her hair and curled them, gripping and pulling softly until she lifted her head. "You think what?" I breathed out.
She sat up, her palms flat against my stomach. She wet her lips, closed her eyes, and moved on me. Just once. But it was all I fucking needed. My cock rubbed in between her legs. Our only barrier: our underwear. I wanted them gone. I wanted nothing between us.
She opened her eyes. They landed where we connected. Her hips moved back and forth a few more times. "I think . . ." She trailed off again. She lifted her gaze and looked around the pool house. She chewed her bottom lip as she took in the space, then finally, they rested on me. She removed her top, her breasts out in the open, waiting for me. I sat up on my elbows and took one in my mouth. Slowly making circles. Savoring this moment. "Oh God . . ." she moaned.
She pulled back, and her fingers curled around the band of my boxers as she pulled them down, freeing my raging hard-on. She ran her palm across the head. It jerked against her hand. Her eyes went wide. Then she shifted again until she was back grinding on me. My bare dick against her panty-covered pussy. Her head was thrown back, her eyes closed. She started to moan. I wanted more. Slowly, lightly, I ran my hands on the inside of her thighs. She didn't stop me. Not even when I got to where we joined. I slid my finger under the material and moved it to the side. We both moaned when it was skin on skin contact. She was so fucking wet. I was so fucking hard.
I moved closer to her, and then flipped us so she was on top. She sat up, her legs folded on either side of me. Her fingers traced the dips of my abs. She had her wrists full of bracelets. I examined each one carefully. "Surely you can't sleep with eleventy-three bracelets on?"
She giggled. "Eleventy-three?"
"Lucy's brother, Lachlan, swears it's a thing."
"Is Lachlan the one that got me to go out with you?"
I laughed. "Yup."
"Good kid." She started removing the bracelets and setting them on the nightstand.
"He's my favorite." I watched her remove them one by one. The last one stood out; it was brighter and thicker than the rest. I'd seen it before. "This looks familiar."
She took it off and examined it quickly before placing it with the others. "Yeah, your dad gave it to me. It's Tina's—his high school sweetheart."
Now I remembered. I'd seen it in pictures of her.
I picked up Amanda’s hands and ran my thumbs on the inside of her wrists, right over the marks. I gazed up at her, her eyes intently fixated on where my thumbs were skimming. I lifted them and placed a kiss on each one. Her breath caught. I felt her body tense above me.
"Do you want to know about them?" she asked.
Of course I wanted to know. I’d wanted to know since the day I saw them at the bookstore. "Yes." My voice cracked. I cleared my throat.
She sucked in a breath, and then let it all out. "I got it the day of your birthday. It was meant to be a surprise. I was going to show you that night."
My heart dropped. I felt it fall to my stomach.
She placed her forearms on my chest, palm up. "See?" she said, tracing the letters of the tattoo. "LM on one side, AM on the other." She shifted her arms so the tattoos were half connected. "When I do this, the letters form a heart. Because that's what you were to me." Her voice broke. "You were my person, Logan. The other half of my heart." I pulled her down so I could hold her closer. Tighter. Her body began to shake. "Those fucking monsters stole our moment. They stole all our moments." She lifted her head; her tear soaked eyes penetrated mine. "They stole you away from me."
I held her head in my hands and kissed her hard. "No one stole me away from you. I told you that you own me. You've always owned me. I was always yours."
I lifted her wrists to my lips and kissed them again. Closing my eyes, I took a breath. I wanted savor this moment—with her in my arms and our forever in front of us. "Did you ever think to get them removed?" I asked.
"No," she answered quickly. "Never. The year you were gone, I could look at them and remember the feelings I had when I got them, and all those feelings I had for you. The way you made me feel alive, and the way you made me feel loved. The way you made me feel like I was the only girl in the entire world. And how you'd do anything and everything for me. You took my nightmares and turned them into dreams. If ten, twenty, thirty years from now, I look down at them and can still feel all those things, still remember the way I felt—the love I felt when I was with you, then it's worth keeping."
"And you still feel that way about me?"
"No." She shook her head, but her eyes stayed on mine. "Now, I feel more."
"And what if I didn't come back? What if you'd married some other asshole?"
"Then that other asshole would always know that I belonged to you first."
I inhaled slowly, as I let her words sink in. "I love you so fucking much," I told her, right before I kissed her. I needed her to know how I felt; I wanted this kiss to represent it, but I don't think it even came close.
She smiled down at me. "I love you, too, babe."
"Ha." I swallowed down my nerves. "No, Amanda, I don't think you get it." I held her tighter and brought her head to my chest. "I don't just love you. It's like the word I want to use hasn't been invented yet. Maybe it's because no one's ever felt this type of love before. Maybe I'm the first to feel it. I don't know. I can't explain it. But those words—I love you—they just don't seem like enough. Not anymore."
I gripped the back of her shirt with my hand to try to hide the trembling. It didn't work. She felt it right away, like she was a part of me. "Your hand's shaking." She placed her hand on my heart. I'm sure she could feel it.
Thump.
Thump.
"What's going on, Logan?"
I tried to level my breathing, let my body settle down, but it wouldn't change what was happening. It wouldn't change how I felt, or what I wanted to say. So I told her the truth. "I'm trying really hard to stop myself from asking you a really, really, stupid question."
Her head lifted again. "What stupid question?"
"The question." I wanted to ask her to be mine forever.
A gasp escaped before she could stop it. "Oh," she said, her eyes wide.
Then it was silent.
We both stared at each other.
Waiting.
Wanting the other to speak first.
She cleared her throat. "I would've said yes," she whispered.
"I know," I said honestly. "That's why I didn't ask you. It can't be like this. Not now. Not yet."
"I would've if you’d asked me in Vegas, too."
My eyes narrowed. How did she know about that? Then it hit me. The journal. "I thought it would be okay, but it's not. I want to give you everything. The world, remember? When we do—it needs to be right. We have to have everyone's support."
She knew what I meant. We had to tell Ethan.
"I have an idea," she said, kissing my neck softly.
"Mm?" Within seconds, the trembling in my hand had ceased and my heart rate had settled, "What's that?" My hand went under her shirt, the other on her ass; she'd started to move her hips, rubbing herself on my dick. It only took a second before I was hard as a rock.
"I think . . ." She trailed off. Her mouth sucked harder, as it made its way up my jaw.
She drove me crazy. My hand went under her panties, gripping her bare ass. I squeezed hard. She moaned into my skin, pressing harder onto me. My other hand went higher on her back, through the neck hole of my jersey she was wearing. I laced my fingers in her hair and curled them, gripping and pulling softly until she lifted her head. "You think what?" I breathed out.
She sat up, her palms flat against my stomach. She wet her lips, closed her eyes, and moved on me. Just once. But it was all I fucking needed. My cock rubbed in between her legs. Our only barrier: our underwear. I wanted them gone. I wanted nothing between us.
She opened her eyes. They landed where we connected. Her hips moved back and forth a few more times. "I think . . ." She trailed off again. She lifted her gaze and looked around the pool house. She chewed her bottom lip as she took in the space, then finally, they rested on me. She removed her top, her breasts out in the open, waiting for me. I sat up on my elbows and took one in my mouth. Slowly making circles. Savoring this moment. "Oh God . . ." she moaned.
She pulled back, and her fingers curled around the band of my boxers as she pulled them down, freeing my raging hard-on. She ran her palm across the head. It jerked against her hand. Her eyes went wide. Then she shifted again until she was back grinding on me. My bare dick against her panty-covered pussy. Her head was thrown back, her eyes closed. She started to moan. I wanted more. Slowly, lightly, I ran my hands on the inside of her thighs. She didn't stop me. Not even when I got to where we joined. I slid my finger under the material and moved it to the side. We both moaned when it was skin on skin contact. She was so fucking wet. I was so fucking hard.
