Why can’t I just tell her exactly how I feel?
I nestle my face into her neck, and she threads her fingers into my hair.
“Talk to me, Luke. Tell me what you’re thinking,” she urges and consoles at the same time. How does she do that?
I raise my head to look at her, and instinctively I know there’s no point in even trying to play dumb. She knows something’s on my mind, and I know her well enough to know I can’t get out of this.
I roll off her, and she follows my movements and lies facing me. I stroke her cheek, push her hair back off her face, and take a deep breath. Now or never, I guess.
“I love you, Andi,” I start. And wait.
“I love you, too,” she answers sweetly.
I take her hand and kiss her knuckles. “I told you I didn’t think I made a very good counselor, right?”
“Yes, you did.”
“The thing is, I can help others work through their feelings or problems or thoughts.” I hesitate, watching her reaction. “I just don’t really talk about mine or see them as plainly.”
She’s quiet, allowing me time to gather my thoughts and continue. “So, how can I encourage them to do what I can’t even really do myself? There are things I know from my training—techniques and tricks—that I know how to use. When to use them. But, Andi, I don’t apply those to myself. Why?”
It’s a rhetorical question. I don’t really expect her to give me the answer. It’s something I know I need to address in myself. I have an advanced degree in counseling and I can’t even counsel myself. How ironic is that?
Andi raises her head up and props it on her hand as she says, “I imagine it’s a lot like me and my degree, Luke. I didn’t practice law after I worked so hard for it because it reminded me so much ofthe bastard. I mean, why did I even pick that field to begin with? That’s whathedid.”
Laying her head back on the pillow, she finishes, “I would’ve been better off being a counselor and helping other kids that way.” Then she smiles. “Maybe you should’ve been the lawyer since you like to fight.”
Damn, she understands me better than I understand myself. She’s probably right. I chose this field for the wrong reasons, and that’s why I’ve been so damn wishy-washy. The pressure I felt from family didn’t help either. It was only after I met Andi that I came to realize this. She was so accepting of me, not my career, butme.
“Maybe you’re right,” I respond with no small amount of wonder in my voice. “You would’ve made one hell of a family counselor, Andi.”
“And you would’ve made one hell of a lawyer, Luke,” she lovingly whispers back.
Two mixed-up souls who somehow found each other and then somehow made everything right. That’s what we are. But we work, and there’s no way I’d change even one second of my life with her for a whole life do-over.
Andi moves closer to me, snuggling in tight, and wraps her arm around me. Her breaths become steady and soft, indicating she’s drifted off to sleep in my arms. This is one of the things I treasure most—holding her and feeling her breathe as she sleeps in my arms, safe and secure.
* * *
ANDI
My first Thanksgivingwith a real family was more than I could’ve ever hoped it would be. I know that Luke quickly tired of everyone being here all day, but he tolerated it well for me. After New Year’s, things are going to get really crazy around here. I haven’t had the heart to tell Luke that I’ve decided to accept a once in a lifetime opportunity that requires me to travel for the first several months of next year. With Travis Malone. The most wanted man in America—the lead singer of the hottest band out right now, Sound Bar.
I met Travis on the set ofThe Lindsey Blair Showwhen I gave my tell-all interview about my foster father. Travis was waiting backstage for his interview while my interview ran way over. It turns out Travis is also a survivor of childhood abuse and wanted to take a stand with me. We agreed to do public service announcements together. That part, Luke knows all about, and he’s been very supportive of it. It’s the traveling with Travis over the first half of next year that I haven’t figured out how to break the news to him about yet. This will go over like a lead zeppelin.
“Luke, baby,” I coo softly at him to wake him. We fell asleep in each other’s arms last night after talking for a little while, and I woke up in exactly the same position. I hope he’ll agree to come on tour with me because I won’t be able to sleep without him.
His long, beautiful eyelashes are fanned out on his cheeks, his breaths are still even, and he hasn’t even stirred yet. I love watching him sleep—he looks so peaceful. I love being snuggled up to his big, warm body, too. He wraps around me like a cocoon, like he’s my own personal safety blanket. One of the reasons I haven’t said anything to him about it yet is because I can’t stand the thought of possibly leaving him. The other reason is because of his jealousy, even when he has nothing to be jealous of in the first place.
“Luke, sweetheart,” I whisper as I gently stroke his jaw stubble. I love the feel of it. He has a natural five-o’clock shadow all the time, and it looks so sexy on him. My fingers trail down his neck, his shoulder, and down his tattooed arm. I move in closer to him and breathe in his all-male, musky scent. My fingers keep moving along the cords and ripples of his muscles. Even relaxed, the man’s body is cut and beautiful. I find his ribs and take my time feeling along the ridges and bumps of his six-pack abs.
I don’t know what they’re called, but I’ve aptly named the V in his abdominal muscles “my personal stairway to heaven.” Moving the sheet back, I lightly run my finger down the side that’s on display.
“You don’t have to stop there,” he mumbles in his sexy, sleepy voice, making me jump out of my skin. And sending tingles to every part of my body.
So I take his advice and let my hand keep roaming. He’s ready and waiting for me before he’s even fully awake. I love that my touch does that to him. Without a word, without any overt gesture, my skin on his skin arouses him before his eyes even open. My undivided attention under the covers brings him to life. His hips instinctively surge upward and he grips me tightly.
His moan of pleasure comes out more like a growl of intense need, and it sparks a flame in me. Unable to explain the sudden need that has enveloped me, I lean into him and lick my way down his muscled abs. With open mouthed kisses, I lick his gorgeous body, lightly nipping his skin with my teeth, and slowly and deliberately torture him as I make my way tomyheaven on earth. His hands glide through my hair and then his fists clench, urgently holding on to me and guiding me where he needs me the most.
