God, she’s beautiful. Beautiful in that devastating, once-in-a-lifetime kind of way that makes your chest ache and your future reorient.
When the elevator dings, I don’t wait. I scoop her into my arms like some love-sick Danny Zuko on steroids.
“Ace!” she shrieks, arms flailing before they wrap around my neck.
I grin down at her. “This is me carrying you over the threshold.”
“We’re not married,” she says, laughing.
“Well, duh,” I say. “We’re not twenty-five yet.”
She goes quiet for half a second—just long enough for our eyes to meet—and then she shakes her head, cheeks flushed, smile wide. “I can’t believe you remember that.”
“I remember everything when it comes to you.”
I stop outside my door and shift her slightly in my arms. She tightens her legs around my waist, threading her fingers through the hair at the back of my neck.
“You sure about this?” I ask, quieter now. “Because once I step through this door, I’m not letting you go.”
She doesn’t hesitate. “Don’t ever let me go.”
Fuck me sideways.
I push the door open with my back, step inside, and kick it shut behind us.
Then I kiss her. And it’s mayhem.
Months of wanting. Years of not knowing. A lifetime of feeling something I couldn’t name—all of it crashes into me at once.
I kiss her like she’s air and I haven’t been breathing right for years.
She clings to me like she feels the same. Her lips chase mine. Her hands are everywhere—my neck, my jaw, the buttons of my letterman sweater. I don’t even care when she pops one off and it bounces somewhere under the couch. She could set this whole place on fire, and I’d say thank you.
We stumble into the living room, never breaking contact, and I drop to the couch with her in my lap, legs tangled, hands greedy, lips desperate.
“Fuck, Julia,” I curse softly against her neck, and she giggles.
“What?”
“You’re in my arms,” I whisper, kissing her collarbone. “After all this time, you’re actually here.”
“I know.” She lets out a soft, breathless laugh that’s equal parts joy and disbelief. “It almost doesn’t feel real.”
“It doesn’t,” I agree, brushing my nose against her cheek. “But then you touch me, and…yeah. It’s real. It’s so fucking real.”
“You know, I used to secretly imagine this.” Her fingers find the back of my neck, tugging me closer. “You and me together.”
“You did?”
She nods and glides her lips against mine. “I did.”
“I’ve imagined this too,” I tell her. “A thousand times. A hundred different ways.”
She leans her forehead against mine. “We’re really doing this, huh?”
“Fuck yes, we are,” I murmur and kiss her again—deeper this time and slower.
Her hips shift against me, and a soft moan escapes her lips.
