This time, I recognize her laugh. “I’m not doubting your feelings, I promise. I wanted to make sure we were on the same page and I needed to hear it plainly. Thank you. And I hope you know, I’m sure about you, Locke. Always.”
I’m decided. There’s no one else in the world for me.
Slowly, my arms wrap around Rosie. My skin warms where we touch, and I tug her into my chest. Her hand rests against my stomach, body falling totally into mine. Relaxed and trusting. Comfortable.
The hand that isn’t keeping her to my chest comes up to readjust my glasses. Ghost walks around the couch to nuzzle my ankle. The action is usually prefaced by anxiety riddling my chest, but I don’t think that’s his intention. I’m pretty sure my cat just knows I’m happy, and he is too.
“We’re doing this, then?” Rosalie whispers into the quiet space of our apartment. No one is around to eavesdrop, but we still keep the words to ourselves. Not a secret—but a promise solely for the two of us.
“Yes.”
Her hand presses into my cheek. Heat starts there, but reaches around and to every point of my being. I grip her hips softly, shifting our bodies so they’re perfectly aligned in front of each other. One of my legs hanging off the side of the couch, the other knocking knees with her on the cushion.
Rosie’s thumb caresses my skin. Looking down at her, my glasses start falling off my nose, but she’s there to fix it immediately.
It’s too perfect. Having her with me, in my arms, keeping our apartment warm when the rest of the world is becoming cold.
My lips fitting over hers feels impossibly perfect, too. Better than the nights I fall asleep imagining them. Rosie’s hand moves from my face to the hair at the nape of neck, pulling us closer together.
I’ve seen all seven wonders of the world, tried foods shimmered with gold, and been surrounded by some of the most prestigious people in Boston, but none of it compares to this. Wrapped in passion and tenderness for Rosie. Lips pressed together in a promise of us. It’s addicting.
I’m consumed in need while lowering her onto the cushions beneath me. One arm keeps its hold on her waist, the other finding a spot next to her head.
My lips work with hers, tongue swiping over her mouth. My hips press into Rosie’s before I can stop them. Softly, slowly, just pushing enough to feel each other. A quiet moan slips out of Rosalie’s throat, and I nearly fall off the couch.
Her hand untangles itself from my hair, moving down my neck. Right as it’s painfully trailing the skin of my collarbone, the alarm of her phone timer shoots us apart.
“Why?” She whines, and I chuckle. The brown hair I obsess over in my daydreams tickles my wrist. Rosie reaches down to find her phone and accidentally hits the control, turning the movie back on.
She starts giggling, and I can’t help myself. I leave kisses on every space of skin I can find. Her cheek, her throat, the arch of her eyebrow that is cuter than any other eyebrow arch in the world.
The alarm turns off and her hand grabs my bicep.
“Locke.”
“Mm.” I hum while kissing the area of skin right under her earlobe.
“You can eat the cookies now.”
I groan and leave another kiss on her temple. “Don’t want to.”
“Excuse me?” I only pull away to see the smile I know comes with that playful tone. She pokes my arm and dramatically scoffs. “I worked hard on those cookies. You better eat one.”
“I will.” I’m overwhelmed with the feeling of wanting something else, though. Something sweeter and more intoxicating. I dip my head into another kiss in hopes of satiating myself, but it’s not enough.
Now that I’ve had a chance to be in Rosie’s heart, I don’t think there’ll ever be enough.
She encourages me again to get a cookie, and I groan, letting my body go limp. One half of me trapped between Rosie and theback of the couch, and the other sprawled against her body. I close my eyes. It’s the most comfortable I’ve felt all my life.
“Come on. Go get a cookie.”
“Come with me.” I mumble into her hair.
She pauses. Hand finding mine over her stomach, squeezing. “To the kitchen?”
“Yes.”
“It’s right there.”
