See Me After Class(125)
“Well then, shall we never be apart again.” I say, lifting his hand to my mouth, where I place a kiss on his knuckles.
I look up at him, and our foreheads move in, touching, our noses move closer, and then . . .
The bell sounds off, signaling the end of class.
Collectively, everyone shouts, “Nooooooo.”
Chuckie, in the nightgown still, for God knows what reason, says, “Kiss, kiss, kiss.”
Laughing, I glance up at Arlo, and he cups my chin. Everyone joins in the chant and before I can decide what to do, Arlo presses his mouth against mine. The cheers fade into the dark, the raucous behavior is out of mind as I get lost in his touch, in the feel of his mouth, in the capturing of his love.
Body and soul. Jane Austen could not have said it more perfectly.
Pulling his mouth away, he brings his lips to my ear and says, “You make me incandescently happy.”
Tears fall down my cheeks.
I pull away and cup his jaw. “Mr. Turner, you have no idea.”
Epilogue
ARLO
“We’re going to win. I can feel it in the air,” Gunner says, jumping up and down in ridiculously short cotton shorts.
No man should ever wear shorts that length.
But he lost a bet to Romeo—still not sure what that was about—and he showed up to the teachers’ league wearing red hot pants. And he’s playing it up, big time, bending over and stretching in Romeo’s face. I’m pretty sure Romeo is regretting making the bet at this point.
“Greer, are you stretched?”
“Yes,” she answers, exasperated.
I kiss the side of her head and whisper, “He’ll be worse during the game, so prepare yourself.”
“You’re lucky you don’t have to play. I wish I was the one who broke my thumb.”
I hold up my small cast. “I can arrange that. I’ll smash it right now with my club hand.”
She chuckles and snuggles in close to my chest.
Come to find out, a grand gesture doesn’t solve all problems.
Shocking, I know.
After I swept Greer off her feet, Mr. Darcy style, I thought we were going to pick up right where we left off.
Boy, was I foolish.
Nope. There was a lot of talking.
I mean . . . a lot.
We had to hash out every last detail, which made sense in the long run because it has helped us establish a more solid foundation of a relationship, something we can stand on through the good and the bad. It’s been hard work, but worth putting the time toward. This might not be a shock to you, but relationships don’t come easy to me, so the more we communicate, the more I learn and that’s what we’ve been doing, communicating a lot.
And even with how open we’ve been with each other; Greer still took it slow with me. She didn’t move in right away like I thought she would. Instead, we went back to dating.
Real dating.
I started sending her notes again, telling her how much I love her, entertaining her with dirty poetry (originals), and opening up to her in a way I feel comfortable. We’ve been spending Friday nights together, focusing on dates and getting to know each other on another level, not just sex. We’ve hung out with our friends, gone on double dates with Gunner and Lindsay, and have even attended some cooking classes together.
I also pop into her class every once in a while and declare my love for her, especially when she moved on from Pride and Prejudice and jumped into Romeo and Juliet. I wanted a firm grasp on what a relationship was before trying to move forward with anything else.
For Thanksgiving, I went to her house after all. Talk about nervous. I was a fucking wreck. Greer kept telling me her parents were going to love me but being the guy that broke her heart, I was skeptical. Thankfully, her parents didn’t know about the evaluation debacle, as Greer didn’t want to taint their opinion of me. When she told me that, I don’t think I could have loved her more. She gave me a fair chance to make a good impression. And of course, I took advantage of the opportunity and I worked my charm, while Coraline ate all their pie. We left with full bellies and a welcoming family asking us to come back anytime.
And the sex—well, that was put on hold for a while.
At first, I was okay with it. I knew I had to grow that trust with her again.
But after a few weeks of her kissing me goodnight and sending me out the door, I was growing desperate. It wasn’t until she asked me to come over to help her build her new dining room table, a table that I found her spread across in another lingerie set, waiting for me that she relieved me of my torture.
In full transparency, I came hard and quick. Don’t worry . . . so did she. After that, we made love several times through the night. The next day, she asked if the invitation to move in was still available. I started packing her up that day. Two days later, she was living with me.
And that’s how it’s been since.
Christmas is in two weeks, and Coraline and I already have one hell of a holiday party planned, as well as Christmas morning. A special Christmas morning. One that involves a sparkly item, and this one is not for Coraline.
As for my thumb, Gunner broke it last weekend. In a fit of rage while practicing badminton, he swung the racket and chopped my thumb. I swore violently while kicking him in the crotch. We both fell to the ground. I was taken to the hospital, Lindsay iced Gunner’s balls, I wound up with a cast, and Gunner isn’t sure if he can deliver any more kids to Lindsay’s uterus. His words, not mine.