“It’sverycute you think I’m going to let you want for anything, or that I don’t take extreme, excessivepleasurein providing for you.” He growled that last bit, his voice rumbling deep in his throat—and, as if to drive the point home, he smiled and took her mouth in his.
She closed her eyes and relished the feeling of the kiss, of him, of his warm, dry hands on the sides of her head, brushing her hair behind her ears, of his lips, soft and gentle against her own. She opened her mouth in invitation, in welcome, wanting,needingto feel him somewhere inside her where he’d found his place long ago, and when his tongue darted between her lips, he tasted minty and fresh and cool, like he’d just brushed his teeth. But before she could explore him more thoroughly, he drew back, and with him he drew her bottom lip between his teeth, just barely grazing along it, lingering on their connection as if he were loath to ever be parted from her in any way before he spoke again.
“You’ll never want for anything, Audrey,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to hers. “Not with me. I’ll make sure of that.”
The certainty in his voice sent shivers down her spine, and she held her breath as his words fully wrapped around her and settled into her bones.
She hadn’t really considered what it would be like to be in a relationship before—what it might be like to actually have someone care for her, to partner with her, to have her back, always, fully and truly.
She’d never had true help before from someone she could rely on who was this close, or who wasn’t appointed to her by the state. Friends weren’t the same. Foster parents weren’t the same, not even Gladys.
Not in this way.
The enormity of that realization, of that change, and of how fast it had crept up on her might have frightened her if it were anyone else.
But now, after everything, that would be like being afraid of her own heart.
She didn’t know what to say, but Theo didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he only ran a thumb across her lips with a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“Dr.Harper reaffirmed that my mother did violate a pretty hefty boundary yesterday. But when she asked me how I felt about what I said, I…” He trailed off with a sigh. “I told her I felt like garbage. Not because I was right, but because my mom…well, she did try to apologize. She never apologizes for anything, and this time she did. She did at leasttryto, anyway, but I didn’t listen. And I screamed at her.” He closed his eyes and rolled his lips—the same way she’d seen his mother do. Now Audrey knew where the tic came from. “I have very conflicting feelings.”
“She came into your house without permission and dredged up a lot of things in the process.”
“Well, yes. But…” He tilted his head from side to side with a hum. “I mean, I did give her that key. And I went no contact with her and didn’t ask for it back. I could have, and I didn’t. I even thought about it once and still chose not to. I didn’t even change the locks. I didn’t block her number, and I could have. I could have done all that, and I didn’t. Maybe that means something.”
Theo shook his head again, sending his thick waves tumbling around his cheeks. “I don’t entirely know how I feel today, but I do know I feel bad about how I reacted—and about some of the things I said yesterday, even if they were true. My actions and reactions are the only parts of all this that I can control or change going forward.” He plucked again at Audrey’s hair, arranging the strands carefully around her face. “I wish I’d heard her out a little more than I didinstead of leaping straight to anger. I hate myself for that. It’s almost exactly the same thing I did the night of the accident. Maybe I haven’t learned anything.”
It was her turn to shake her head. “No. You were surprised. Your reaction was justified. And you need to stop beating yourself up aboutthistoo. All right?”
“I did promise you I’d stop doing that. I’ll try.”
“Are you going to stick to what you decided last night?” she murmured. He nodded, humming deep in his chest with a sigh.
After he’d cried so hard she thought he might pass out, they’d talked. They talked until they ran out of words.
When they grew quiet, Theo ran his hands along her body, slowly, softly. The fire reflected back at her in his eyes, those beautiful irises of shifting liquid gold and amber and dark, deep mahogany, their lighter edges sometimes green, sometimes not, both crystalline and clear, but flecked with a few stray dark spots—freckles, just like the ones dotting his face and body. The most perfect imperfections.
His fingers, sure and strong, had pinched the zipper of the hoodie she wore.
And drew it all the way down.
The second time they made love there on the duvet in front of the fire was so different from the first. She was more ready this time—not at all scared, all the more sure.
And so was he.
She knew with every kiss, every stroke, every caress, that he loved her, well and truly. That he wouldn’t hide anything from her. And with every embrace, every cry, every shiver, she knew she loved him too. There was no mistaking it, no denying it, no room for doubt or fear. Her love only grew and deepened in that moment together with Theo in front of the fire, the edges of her blurring into the edges of him, melding into one like liquid metal, forgingthemselves into something new, honing each other into something sharper, something more.
Waking up this morning, she felt different.
And she could see the change in Theo too.
His shoulders were more square, more set.
For the first time since they’d met, he seemed to take up more space rather than less.
“Do you want to take a shower and get ready?” he finally asked. “It’s going to take us some time to get to Midtown.”
When Audrey camedownstairs from doing her meager best with her makeup, Theo was standing at his kitchen counter, scrawling something in looping, only slightly shaken handwriting on the back of a business card with the fountain pen he normally used for sketching. He glanced up when she padded downstairs, and a crooked grin split his mouth wide.
