I love you. God, I do. I sit down, crossing my legs, my dress riding up a little. “I know, but I didn’t go there to see them. I went there to steal a dress out of the closet.”
He arches an eyebrow. “A dress?”
I shrug and then tell him about the dress and what happened with my mom, surprised by how easy it is to tell him the truth, down to how I felt about knowing the pills were so close. I wanted to rip them out of her purse and devour them. I wanted to make myself feel better, but I didn’t do it. I know now they don’t make me feel better. They just make me not feel.
“It’s normal,” he says when I’m done. He sits up and turns to the side so he’s facing me. “To want them when you know they’re near. What’s important is that you didn’t take them.”
I nod, trying to pick up his vibe, but he’s stoic and it’s frustrating me. “How about you? How was…” God, this is so hard. “How was seeing London?”
He waits a moment to respond, looking me over with his eyebrows furrowed as if he’s perplexed. “It wasn’t like how I thought it would be.”
I take a deep breath, fearing the answer, fearing the worst, but ultimately telling myself that I have to handle it because I won’t go back to being what I was. “And how did you think it would be?”
He keeps staring at me, not saying anything and it drives me crazy, to the point that I feel like I’m going to explode.
“Ethan, would you please tell me what you’re thinking?” I kneel up in front of him as I wince at the neediness in my tone.
A breath eases out of his lips as he reaches for my hips, surprising me when he folds his fingers around me and brings me to his lap so I’m straddling him. “I’m thinking that I missed you.” His forehead creases as he says it. “In fact, I was kind of surprised how much I was thinking about you the entire time.”
I’m not sure whether to be happy or offended. “You weren’t planning to think about me at all?”
He shakes his head, staring at me like he’s lost. “I honestly thought I’d go there and be completely focused on saying goodbye and letting London go, but it turns out I think I already had in a way… I think it might have happened the moment I decided to be with you.” He pauses, contemplating, his lips quirking. “I’m kind of sounding cheesy right now, huh?”
I try not to smile, but I’m failing. “Cheesy can be good, though. Like in the movies. Everyone always ends up happy.”
“You think we’re going to end up happy?” He seems wary.
“I honestly don’t know, but…” I gather my breath and my courage as I place my hands on his shoulders. “But I’d kind of like to find out.” I hold my breath while I wait for him to say something.
He plays with a strand of my hair, twirling it around his finger and then tucking it behind my ear. “I don’t want to turn out like my parents… I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I don’t either,” I say. “I want us to be happy.”
“Relationships can be ugly. I’ve seen it.”
“So have I.” I pause, not wanting to ask but needing to know. “But, Ethan, I don’t get it. You say you don’t want to be in a relationship, yet you were in one with this girl… London.”
He keeps looking into my eyes, really looking at me as he cups my cheek and grazes his thumb across my cheekbone. “Things with London were always intense and easy because we never talked about anything, really. She made me feel free in a strange way, because she never made me feel like I had to give her anything. We just kind of coexisted.”
I frown. “It sounds like your dream.”
He shakes his head. “I thought so, but I was wrong. I never really knew anything about her. It was easy and fun to be with her, but I think that was because we were high all the time. I think I liked the idea of her, but with you…” He trails off, his eyelids lowering as he chooses his words carefully. “God, half the time you drive me crazy. You challenge my patience. Piss me off. Make me feel things… That’s the thing, Lila. You make me feel things for you, even when I’m fighting it. No one has ever done that to me.”
“So you want to be with me?” I’m so confused. “Even though we sometimes clash?”
“I told you I did a long time ago,” he says, brushing my hair from my eyes.
“When?”
“In the desert. Back when I told you we should go on a road trip together.”
“I thought you were kidding about that.”
He slowly shakes his head, never taking his eyes off me. “At the time I told myself I was, but deep down I’ve known for a while that there’s no way I could leave you behind.” His chest rises and falls as he takes a deep breath. “I… I love you, Lila.”
My heart stops in my chest. I’ve heard the words uttered many times in the heat of the moment, from guy after guy wanting to get into my pants, but never like this. I’ve never known someone like this before we had sex. I’ve never been friends first.
Tears start to form in my eyes as the last six years pour through me. All those years of feeling worthless, unloved, unworthy of love. God, it hurt more than I let on. I can still feel the pain inside my body, haunting me, along with every choice I’ve ever made in life. But the thing is, they’re in the past, and moving forward I need to stop being so fixated on the things that have happened and focus on what I want to happen.
“I love you, too,” I blurt out, overly excited but not caring. “I really do.”
He releases a breath and then smiles. “Jesus, for a second there I thought you were going to reject me or something.”
“Never,” I say and kiss him softly on the lips, feeling the connection I’ve never felt with any other guy. “I could never reject you.”
I start to move back, but he cups his hand around the back of my head and kisses me forcefully. Our lips melt together as we kiss each other passionately, his hands wandering all over my body, across my bare back, tracing a line down my spine. He tastes me, steals my breath away as I press closer to him, wishing that we could stay this way forever.
My heart knocks in my chest as he slips the straps of my dress down my shoulders. I can feel every single aspect of his touch and I embrace it. All those years I was dead inside, locked in a coffin I built myself, and I’m finally free. The contact of our skin sends a rush through my body and a hunger surges through me. I want to feel what I felt the night we had sex. I need to right now. I pull away and he watches me with confusion as I slip my dress down my body, unable to wait any longer. I need him close to me more than I need air.
After I kick my dress to the floor, I return to his lap and straddle him. Before I reconnect my lips to his, I slip his shirt over his head and he watches me the entire time, his expression unreadable. I throw his shirt onto the floor and then trace my fingers along the lines of his muscles and the tattoos that brand them. Each one I’m sure tells a story and one day in the future—our future—I’ll have to get him to tell them to me. I splay my palm flat across his chest, feeling his heart beat against my hand. It thumps hard, erratically, nervously like my own.
“What are you thinking?” I whisper, lifting my gaze from his chest to his eyes.
His tongue slips out as he wets his lips. Then he places his hand over mine and brings it away from his chest and to his lips. “I was thinking about how badly I missed you.” He touches the bottom of my wrist with his lips and places a kiss delicately on my skin.
“You already said that.”
“I know, but it felt like something that needed to be said twice.”
I can’t help but smile at the nice, sweet side of Ethan Gregory that I’ve always loved. I’d tell him, but he’d probably argue, so instead I just kiss him. At first, the kiss starts off sweet, but then suddenly the pace quickens as he undoes the clasp of my bra, tosses it aside, and flips me on my back. I let out a blissful moan as his lips travel from my lips, to my jawline, collarbone, finally resting on my breast. He kisses my nipple, hard, nipping and tugging in a way that almost instantaneously pushes my body to the edge. My back bows up into him and I bite my lip, suppressing a scream as I thread my fingers through his hair, pushing his face closer, wanting more. I’m still not used to it, feeling everything without being medicated. I wish it would always stay this way. I wish we’d want each other as much as we do now. And who knows, maybe we’ll turn out to be one of the lucky ones. Either way it’s worth the risk.