Love and stuff is complicated, right? Yes. Always. But I think it’s quite simple when you know. Because once you know, you can’tunknow.It isn’t that I feel broken away from Rowan, and it’s not thathemakes me whole, but he makes me feel like me. Like it’s okay to be wholly myself.
He reminds me that it’s okay to be a bit broken. He reminds me that there is light in the darkest of tunnels, and that I deserve love—that I’m worthy of it and worthy of someone like him. Love and stuff can be so complicated, but when it’s like this, it’s the easiest thing in the whole goddamn world.
I should have just told him I needed him to stay. I should have asked for what I needed and told him it’s him—always him.
Grumbling in a mixture of English and Korean, I pull off my coat and hang it up. I’m still wearing his left glove so I slipit off gingerly, not wanting to ruin everything it holds, as I set it down on the entryway table.
A knock on my door pulls me out of my meaningless tantrum.
I grunt as I swing it open. “What?”
Twin bright, sky blue eyes stare back at me, blond hair disheveled like he’s been pulling at it.
“What are you doing—what happened?” I ask. Rowan takes two large steps in, urging me to take a few steps back, and he shuts the door behind him. His hands take my face and before I can question anything else about his presence, his lips are on mine and my back is pushed against the nearest wall.
Oh thank god.
“Fuck,” he groans.
My fingers twine in his hair, his hips press into mine, and his hands are bruising on my ass. I’m arching and bucking, searching and asking for relief. “Rowan,” I gasp against his lips.
“New Years,” he says huskily, peeling me off the wall and walking through my apartment. “I didn’t get a New Year’s kiss.”
“Yes you did,” I breathe, chortling. “You animal.”
“I needed more.”
“You greedy bastard,” I tease further and pull him back to my lips.
He chuckles as his lips move with mine. I allow myself to sink into this, to arch against him, wrap my leg around his hip, and devour him.
His lips leave mine as they leave a trail down my neck and across my shoulder. And as much as I try not to, it happensanyway. He kisses my shoulder and I yawn, louder than I mean to.
“Fuck,” I hiss quietly.
He lifts his head to smile down at me, laughing. “Tired?”
I stifle my next yawn, my eyes tearing up as I do. I shake my head.
Rowan kisses the tip of my nose as he begins to remove his coat and shoes. “Come with me.”
He takes my hand and leads me through my own apartment, taking us into the bathroom where he closes the door and turns on the shower. I fucking yawnagain.I try to look at myself in the mirror but my eyes can hardly stay half open at this point.
He checks the temperature with his hand then closes the shower curtain. He turns to me with a smirk, and begins to undo his pants.
“Shower sex?” I ask, my voice hoarse.
He shakes his head with a cute smile. “No, sweetheart, just a shower,” he says. “Then sleep.”
I nod, doing my best not to fall asleep where I stand. “No offense, but I’d much rather do that right now anyway.”
He laughs quietly and comes to me. “Arms up.”
I lift my arms as he removes the dress then my bra. He kneels to remove my pantyhose and underwear. He finds my hair clip and a shower cap, leaving me fully prepped for the hot shower. Rowan helps me in before he removes the rest of his clothes.
He joins me and it becomes one of the best showers I’ve ever taken. It’s quiet and intimate, nothing about it is sexual—just loving. His hands brush over my back, my arms, my waist.He scrubs my back as I wash my face. He makes sure I don’t accidentally wet my hair.
He kisses my cheek. I kiss his chest. He kisses my shoulder, the length of my arm, my forehead. The kisses don’t progress tonight. They remain as they are for the moment we’re in—reverential and adoring. He rinses the soap from my body, I help him do the same.
