But I’m only so strong.
He’s the boy I’ve loved since I learned what love was. And it’s clear he feels just as strongly about me. Actually, the depth of the emotion that gazes out of me from behind his eyes is startling. It’s funny, really. My devotion to him over the years has always been the thing people notice most about me. But I’m starting to realize his devotion puts mine to shame. The thought of what that passion will look like when all the barriers between us are finally dropped could send a shudder down my back and arms, leave me covered in goosebumps from the anticipation alone. But I’m trying to do this right.
So I’ve been enjoying this time, reconnecting with him, and pushing the boundaries as far as I can without giving him some sort of aneurysm. Is there such a thing as permanent damage from blue balls? If there is, he’s probably got it, based off the glimpses I’ve caught most nights when he has to subtly rearrange himself, or dart into the bathroom suddenly, and I do feel a little bad about that. But trust me when I say my lady bits haven’t been getting off any easier.
Well, that’s the wrong choice of words. It’s beenveryeasy for them to get off lately. Like, a couple of touches after he’s left each night, when I’m finally all alone in my bed, and bing bang boom. Thanks to all this pent upwhateveris between us, I’m pretty sure if Aaron simply breathed on me in the right way, I’d implode in the best way imaginable.
But we’rewaiting, because that seems like the responsible choice.
I think.
But I’m just about done with this portion of our story, I can tell you that. That man is the love of my life, and I’m damn nearready to ride off into the sunset on him. With him. Whatever. Semantics.
The way I see it, at this point in our relationship, we’ve done all the hard stuff together, been through all the big moments in life already. We’ve put in the work—more than ten years of it. All that’s left is to reap the rewards. The fun stuff. The pleasure. The parts that should feel the best. The God-given benefits that come with going through life with your partner—what can take a shitty day and make it okay.
I’m hardly a puritan, probably more accurate to say that I haven’t slept around much, and I’m pretty inexperienced as compared to Aaron. But even in my more limited experience, I don’t think it’s an accident that however we, as a species, were created—nature, evolution, some higher power, whatever the case may be— it can feelsogood to be intimate with another person, especially one you care deeply about.
Yes, I’m basing this mostly off of my experience with Spencer, but also from how hot even the tiniest contact is with Aaron. Any promise of more from that man gets me more ready for him than I’ve been for anyone I’ve dated before—those guys that I wasn’t head over heels in love with.
So I can’t help but have this theory that it’s a currency of sorts; that intimacy, sex and pleasure were intended to be this incredible payoff we get for sharing ourselves so wholly with another. Anddamn, I can’t wait for the payoff with this kid.
And it’s these agonizing thoughts that have me practically writhing with need in bed this morning as I take my time getting up, my first lazy Saturday since taking the temporary job at the library. A chance to sleep in—or at least stay in bed—sounds like heaven.
Yesterday was my last day, by the way. I should probably have mentioned that, sorry. Layla, my counterpart, came back from maternity leave last week. We spent the week doing aknowledge transfer on my time there, so she was all set to resume and yesterday was officially my last day. Of course, I’m still going to host the bi-monthly book club, that’s my baby, and it’ll be a chance for me to keep the little community I found myself a part of over these past couple of months.
Aaron presented Brenda and myself with a parting gift yesterday—two sets of every indie book on the list of mine he’s been reading off of. All of my favorite books that weren’t available at the library now are. And he asked Brenda how he can go about donating them to the rest of the libraries in our metro, too.
My heart got a little mushy over that, and I think my face showed it, too. Brenda gave me quite the look when Aaron wasn’t looking, he’s won over everyone there in his time as a self-proclaimed romance scholar.
I know if I drag myself downstairs, for the first morning in two weeks, Aaron won’t be waiting for me. He’s mysteriously disappeared on me a lot lately, and I’ve done my best to let him keep his secrets. But my curiosity is definitely starting to get the better of me.
He warned me last night, after we’d had steak salads for dinner, then watched I-have-no-idea-what (though I do recall what he was wearing, how he smelled, and how many times his lips twitched throughout the evening) on the couch for a couple hours that he wouldn’t be by until later today. He did prep my K-cup machine for this morning since he wouldn’t be hand-delivering my latte. Then he pressed his lips to the side of my head, right on my hair, one hand holding either side of my head, and wished me sweet dreams. Then he locked up and left, taking my breath with him.
Eventually, I convince myself to put on an audiobook and go through my morning routine. Find myself comparing Aaron to the book boyfriend of the minute, and I have to say, he’sbeen holding his own lately. Some author should take notes. I mean, he’s no winged male who’s the FMC’s fated mate, but for a normal (okay, somewhat rich, somewhat famous) guy, I think he’s kinda killing the game. I might be biased. And, hey, at least there’s no surprise pregnancy trope in our story.
An hour or so later, I’m looking cute in some high-waisted jeans with a lightweight, soft cream sweater, hair wavy and what’s become my new makeup look—not quite natural, but not more than I’m comfortable with. Ifeelcute, and that feeling isn’t getting old.
And now I’m downstairs, K-cup freshly brewed and being ingested, as I set myself up at my little nook in the corner with the mini desk and my Starlight MacBook Air. I log into my online storefront out of habit, just to see if any new orders have come in since the last time I checked (they usually haven’t, but a girl can dream, right?), and that’s when the coffee spews out of my mouth, all over the screen of my poor, unsuspecting computer. I rip my phone out of my pocket and my fingers type furiously.
Me
What
Did
You
Do
???
The Kid
Whatever do you mean, jellybean?
How did I get more than 200 sales yesterday?
I’m proud of you, Gem. You deserve it!
