When we finally break apart, I’m breathless. AJ carries me to the bedroom and lays me down, stretching out next to me and flicking open the buttons of my flannel shirt one at a time.
There’s no rush, no desperation. When he’s shed his clothes and I’m left in just my bra and panties, I start to kiss him. His jaw. His neck. His collarbone. The hollow of his throat. Down his chest. Across his abs.
I commit every line, every ridge, every muscle to memory, praying it’s not all for nothing. As I reach his erection, I realize the truth. Even if I don’t wake up tomorrow—or if I do, but everything is somehow…gone again—this night, this day, this love we have…it’s everything.
We are everything.
I press a kiss to his crown, tasting him. Salty. Strong. Mine.
“Grace, I need to be inside you,” he whispers. “Please. Let me make love to you.”
I turn on my side, letting him unhook my bra and slide my panties down my hips. His arm wraps around my waist from behind, and I fit my back against his chest. Why does this position feel so right?
AJ guides his length to my channel, and God, he fills me so completely. “This was always your favorite,” he murmurs and skims his lips over the shell of my ear. “How you liked me best. You always said it made you feel?—”
“Cherished,” I whisper.
I remember now. The truth of it clogs my throat, but I don’t cry. I’m so lost in AJ. In this moment that’s only for the two of us.
AJ starts to move his hips, and I meet him thrust for thrust.
Sensations build. He plays with my nipples, pinching and rolling them between his fingers. His teeth score the curve of my neck. I reach back and grab his ass, digging into the firm muscle and pulling him even harder against me.
His hand drifts lower. Over my mound. Down to my clit. He finds his rhythm, swirling his finger around the tight, aching nub as I arch my back and moan.
“Aaron…please…”
“I love you, Grace. Always,” he says.
And with one last thrust, we fly over the edge together.
AJ’s arms are a fortress, holding me long after we’ve come down from our highs and Belle sprawls across our feet. When the nightmares come, his arms tighten, and he whispers the mantra that always brings me back from the edge of panic.
“You’re home. You’re safe. You’re loved.”
At some point in the night, I wake up to find him sitting against the headboard, his eyes open, watching me in the dim light from the hall.
“You’re not sleeping,” I slur, my voice rough.
His thumb brushes over my knuckles. “Didn’t want to miss a second of time with you, darlin’.”
I swallow my tears. He’s carrying so much fear for the both of us, I can’t add to it. Not now. Not this close to…the unknown. Instead, I prop myself up on an elbow, kiss him, and whisper, “Stay with me.”
“I will. Every minute. Every heartbeat. Forever.”
Sleep drags me under again, but this time I dream of him, not the dark shadows that want to swallow me whole.
Morning comes too quickly. My stomach is hollow, but even if I were allowed to eat, I couldn’t. I’m too nauseous.
The hospital is too bright. The antiseptic smell too strong. The gown too rough. AJ never leaves my side. Not even as they wheel me toward pre-op.
At the double doors, he signals for the nurses to wait. We’re on a schedule, and they try to rush him, but he fixes them with his hard, unyielding stare and practically growls, “You can give us two minutes.”
They back off then. But not too far.
“I’m not ready,” I whisper, fighting for each word.
AJ bends down so his lips brush my ear. “You don’t have to be ready, darlin’. You just have to be you. Stubborn, brave, smart, kind, you. That’s enough.”
