What it comes down to is simple. I don’t need to see anything else from this man. Maybe some people wouldn’t agree with how I’ve forgiven him so quickly, or that I’m ready to tie myself to him after all the shit he pulled this summer, but I know who he is in his heart. Neither of us are perfect, but we’re working to be better, together. I don’t need to wait and see anything more from him than all he’s already shown me.
It’s more than what he’s done these past few weeks—it’s what’s changed between us. The openness, the genuine care that’s evident in every look, conversation, act of kindness; the honest communication between us on anything and everything under the sun. It feels like our forever has begun. It’s time to make it official.
The last bit of nerves that stand in my way feel like the final barrier—these frayed, delicate, sensitive bits of me that have felt rejected by him my entire life, and can’t stomach the thought of losing face in front of him one more time.
And I know it’s dumb, with everything we’ve been through together, everything we’ve finally realized and admitted to one another, but a part of me still feels like it’s me putting myself out there, on the line, by asking him to make that move. I still feel like some iteration of that shy, fifteen-year-old who wanted his attention; the nineteen-year-old who dressed up for him only to be discarded, disregarded. The twenty-year-old who watched him start to capitalize on his fame with women so gorgeous they’d give any normal girl a complex. What’s the twenty-four-year-old version of me got that none of them did?
A frustrated groan leaves my lips at the memories, being at this crossroads again with him.
Why is italwayson me in our relationship?
It’s always on me to put myself out there, go out on a limb, risk everything we’ve been and what we are for what we could be.
I’m the one who has to go out into no-man’s land, that dangerous territory where I’m left hanging, vulnerable, on my own for those dreaded seconds, minutes, however long it takes for what I want to come out, while I wait to see if that’s what he wants, too.
There’s a difference, though.
This time, IknowI’m not the only one who wants this.
But Aaron’s made it clear he won’t make another move on me.
His words have said nothing but how much he wants us to be together. His actions have said that, too. That doesn’t mean it’s not absolutely terrifying to make this final jump to try to get what andwhoI want after nearly a decade and a quarter of wishing for him.
How many times have I daydreamed about this exact moment? How many times has it not happened? How many nightmares have I had about it going terribly, terribly wrong?
But I’m ready. I’m ready to put myself out there, to stake my claim on this man once and for all.
I know what I’m going for when I get to his house.
Except, when I pull into the gated community, up into his secluded, wooded driveway and into the clearing where I can park in front of his house (about three acres of cleared grounds, surrounded by north of twenty wooded acres, all overlooking the Blue Ridge mountains, the lucky duck),heis waiting for me out front with a plan of his own. And it’s not the one I was hoping for.
As soon as I’m out of the car, nervously straightening my sweater, pulling up my jeans, he’s by my side. It feels like it’s been ages since I’ve been here, and I guess it has. About six months, give or take? A lot longer than I’ve ever been away from here before. Looks the same from out here, even if everything between us feels different.
“I’ve got a surprise for you, Gem.” His voice is warm, soft, and it sends shivers through my entire system. I don’t think I mean to, but I lick my lips in response. His eyes track the motion briefly before he smiles with them instead and steps up behind me.
“What are you?—”
He places his hands over my eyes from behind me.
“You’re gonna have to trust me.” His warm whisper tickles right up against the shell of my ear, his hands shifting as he leans in and back out with the movement. I can feel my eyelids flutter behind the pressure of his hands. This is absolute torture, to psych myself up for this moment, only to have the choice taken off the table, to have his lips against my ear, his hands on my face, his lean, solid frame pressed against me from behind, and I’m just supposed to do nothing? I let out a little sad-sounding sigh and give him a small nod, his fingers still glued to my eyelids through the motion.
He leads me into the house, through the expanse of the living space, then all the way into the backyard. As we step down off of the deck in the back, he shifts his hands so one large palm is covering both of my eyes, and he wraps the other arm around my waist, steadying me as we make our way down the stairs and traverse across the lawn. Even through my shoes, I can feel the grass is longer than it used to be, it’s too soft, too padded underneath my soles. As he escorts me to some secret destination, I vaguely wonder what state the rest of his house is in. If he’s not had time to stay on top of the maintenanceand running the staff that keep it looking nice with all the time he’s been devoting to me lately. Pretty sure he doesn’t even have an assistant these days, and I don’t think details like schedules and household maintenance are really a strength of his. I should probably take a peek around before I leave and send a few texts to his people to help him out.
We stop moving, his arm steadying me as my body sways forward with the jolt of the abrupt halt. His other hand is still covering my eyes, and even though I open both and try to sneak a peek, all I can see is a sliver of grass beneath his palm.Damn. I’m pretty impatient with surprises, and the excitement is starting to get to me. My stomach feels like it’s floating with anticipation, and all of a sudden I can’twaitto see what he’s done.
“So, I, uh, didn’t really foresee you letting me back in this quickly. Wanted a place I could feel close to you, no matter how long it took to get back in your good graces. So I did a thing.” His voice has a note of uncertainty, almost shyness to it that I’m not used to hearing from my usually charming, confident, in-command best friend.
His hand peels back from my face, and I have to blink away the sunlight from the early evening glow for just a second before I can take in the sight in front of me.
And when I do, I let out a squeal that sounds a lot like pain, my knees buckling.
THIRTY-FIVE
GEMMA
Don’t worry, Aaron catches me, like he apparently always does these days.
His soft chuckle hits my ear as he does, his forearm banding around my ribcage to keep me on my feet, and I grip it with both hands, staring up in awe.
