The Not-Outcast(76)

Warm. Toasty. Again.

But I had to focus. He’d been tense for a reason.

“What happened tonight?”

“We lost a game.”

“Cut.”

He sat on the edge of the bed, and I moved up behind him. My legs went around him, and I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, looping over the front of him. I propped my chin on his shoulder. “I saw Chad show up. I saw you guys going to the other box for a talk, and he didn’t come back with you.”

His head lowered, resting on my arm, and he reached up to lace his fingers with mine. His thumb started rubbing back and forth over my palm.

“Can we just leave it how it is?”

“You know anything he said won’t hurt me.”

He drew in another breath of air, going rigid.

I moved my legs so they were completely around him, and he hunched forward. I was fully plastered against his back, and his other hand went to my legs. He began running his finger up and down on the underside of my thigh.

Tingles were following in his trail, but I was holding my response back.

I knew that he needed to get this out, whatever it was.

“Cut.”

Another sigh. “I might be losing my best friend.”

My eyes closed.

Sadness billowed through me, and I rested my cheek against the back of his shoulder blades. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.” He squeezed my hand a little. “But that’s on him, not you and not me. And honestly, this could’ve come out later down the line.”

“This?”

“Whatever kind of thought process he’s got inside of him where he couldn’t see you were a fucking person.”

“Oh. That.”

“Yeah. That.”

Damn.

I didn’t want Chad to hurt anyone I cared about because of me, but it was happening.

“I’m sorry again.”

His hand stopped and then flexed over my thigh. “It’s nothing for you to be sorry about. It’s Chad.”

“You can’t make him think a certain way.”

“It’s a bit more than that. He needs to see you as a person, and he doesn’t. I don’t understand why he doesn’t.”

“I know people think certain ways about people who come from my beginnings, but I can’t explain the reason why they think like that.”

“Yeah.” His back rose and fell again, and he went back to rubbing the inside of my palm against his chest. “We’ll just deal with it, whatever happens.”

There were no words because I couldn’t take away his pain, like he couldn’t take away how I was raised. But I could do other things and I could say other words to maybe replace the hurt. My cheek against his back, I whispered, “You weren’t an idea for me.”

Saying it in person was a whole lot different than saying it over text. He needed to hear me say it tonight.

He sucked in his breath, his hand holding mine in an almost cement grip.

I kept on, “I think I did love you when I saw you.”

I didn’t think. I knew. I know.

“Are you telling me you love me now?”

My hand flexed under his now, and I went rigid, my thighs gripping him hard. And then, my eyes closing as I said it. “Yes.”

Please don’t leave me now.

Please don’t— He twisted, his hands went under my arms and he lifted me clear. He stood, but he was moving us back on the bed. His eyes were hooded and dark, and he didn’t want any more words.

I was laid down. He came down on top, his mouth was on mine, and he was hungry.

He was commanding.

He was demanding.

Oh yes, I definitely didn’t think he was going to leave.

Then, I answered him back.

His tongue swept in, and my toes curled.

There were no words to process this.

None at all.

He was touching me. He was kissing me. Loving me. And it felt like, finally.

Finally we were one.

Finally we were whole.

Finally I was with who I’d been waiting for all my life.

Finally.

I was lost in every touch, caress, whisper, every sensation. All of it. As the clothes were removed. As he moved over me. As I felt his arms, his chest, his hands. As I felt him slide a finger inside of me.

Our gazes were locked as he thrust inside, out, back in, and he moved his finger around. A second finger. I wanted him, but I was also helpless against the sensations he was building inside of me, and it was only after I climaxed that he repositioned and reaching down, I caught his hands.

I laced our fingers and he pushed inside.

I moaned, my head falling back. My throat was exposed and as he began moving in and out, his lips fell there and he was kissing me, tasting me all over again.

Every move, we were together.

My legs were wound around his waist.

Our hands stayed together, and he pinned them next to my head.

As he lifted himself up, going for a deeper angle, going harder, my eyes opened again. He was right there, staring into me. He was seeing me, all of me.

I was splayed out for him, for him to take, freely and willingly, and his eyes darkened as he began moving harder, faster.

It was building. Building.

Priming.

I was right there.

Then, he held a second, and I cried out.