Gentleman Nine(72)
It took the better part of an hour to get through all of the photos he’d printed out. Seeing nine years playing before my eyes like a movie made the ache in my chest even more profound. But he was trying to get me to remember when I’d never actually forgotten.
“I’ll always cherish this album. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Glancing out the window, I noticed that the snow was really starting to come down. Had it been snowing like this the whole time we were here?
Rory turned the news on, and the weather lady was immediately warning against being out on the roads unless it was an emergency. It hit me then that there was no way I was getting home tonight.
He looked at me with a slight smirk. “I swear…I didn’t plan this.”
“Black ice? That’s kind of scary.”
His mouth curved into a smile. “Scarier than spending the night here alone with me?”
“Just by a little.”
We shared a laugh before he said, “I’ll sleep on the couch. But you won’t be sleeping alone in my bed. Bruisey’s gonna want to sleep next to you, like old times.”
“Poor Bruisey. He’s gonna be so confused.”
“Since we’re gonna be here a while, why don’t I make us some hot chocolate.”
Hot chocolate.
That immediately made me think of Channing.
“Sure.”
I slipped out from under the sleeping dog and joined Rory in the kitchen where we sat and sipped the hot cocoa he’d made. Under any other circumstances, being snowed in with this handsome man who’d been my entire life for so long would have been a dream.
He must have been able to sense my inner turmoil when he said, “Don’t feel guilty when you look at me. I caused this myself. All of it.”
“No, you didn’t. You didn’t cause the accident. You were in shock, and you did what you thought was right. You thought you were protecting me. This whole situation…it’s nobody’s fault. I don’t blame you for anything anymore now that I understand what really happened.”
“My entire reason for coming back was that I could no longer live with you thinking I didn’t love you. I just waited too long.”
Leaning in and grabbing his hands, I said, “I know you love me. It’s one of the few things I’m sure of right now.”
My touching him may have been too much because he suddenly ripped himself away from me and walked across the room.
Placing his head in his hands, he said, “When I thought about my future, I always pictured it with you. Now, I see…nothing. I just don’t know what it looks like.” For the first time, I could see his eyes water. He seemed angry with himself for losing the composure he’d tried so hard for. “So much for a drama-free Christmas,” he muttered.
Getting up and pulling him into a hug, I wanted to just take his pain away, reassure him that everything would be okay, that I still loved him. I did. But it wasn’t that simple. It wasn’t just us anymore.
His heart was beating rampantly, and my own was matching his rhythm. He was breathing fast, frantic breaths into my neck. And slowly his lips travelled upward. My body stirred as his mouth landed on mine. I didn’t have the heart to pull away, nor did I want to.
The kiss got more intense fast. We’d kissed thousands of times before this, but never had it felt so desperate, so forbidden, so bittersweet.
Somehow, I ended up pinned against the wall. He whispered over my mouth, “I want you, and I can’t have you, and that’s fucking killing me, because I still feel like you’re mine.” He leaned his head against mine. The pain in his voice was palpable, and it permeated my entire being. “I miss your laughter, miss the way you used to look at me, miss your love and goddammit…I miss fucking you. I miss fucking you so damn much. I’d just about give my life at this point to be inside of you again.” He buried his face in my neck. “I’m so fucking hard right now.”
I was beginning to realize how very dangerous this was. His words were making me wet. My body was turned on as he continued to press against me. I was getting carried away. I couldn’t remember the last time things felt this intense with Rory.
I’m a terrible person.
I couldn’t let this go on a second longer.
Pulling myself away from him, I said, “I’m sorry.”
He placed his hand over his face, scrubbing his skin and nodding as if he’d expected me to pull away. “It’s okay.”
I retreated to his room for the rest of the evening. As expected, Bruiser followed me into the bed.
Drowning in Rory’s familiar scent, I cried myself to sleep, my tears seeping through the fabric of his pillow.
***
Rory dropped me back off at my place early the next morning.
Once home, when I logged into my messages, I realized an email from Channing had come in overnight.
Dear Amber,
Attached is something I put together for you today. It’s a playlist of songs that remind me of us. Who knew that moving back to Chicago and being away from you would turn me into such a sap? Tell Milo I don’t need him to emasculate me anymore; I’m doing a damn good job of that myself. In all seriousness, I hope you like it. At the very least, don’t laugh at me.