Nothing Feels Better (Better Love 3)

22

Isit with Jesse on my bed, both of us wrapped in towels and eyeing each other hungrily.

After taking me on the stairs, he washed every inch of my body with a care that nearly broke my heart. His whispered words and promises, filling me with both hope and dread. Finally, after minutes of silence, I break it.

“Why are you here?” I ask, and his grin makes me pause.

“I’m here because I’m in love with you, and you’re in love with me. The rest we’ll figure out.”

I chew on my lip and take a deep breath before speaking. “What about the girl? In your photos.”

“She’s just a friend. Her partner goes to Stanford, so she and I went to the formal together. But she’s just a friend, Joss. Nothing has ever happened there.”

The relief I feel is immeasurable, but that’s only one of our obstacles. The smallest.

“But Boston?” I question. “Med school? My situation hasn’t changed. I can’t move there with you.”

“I know,” he says with a nod, and I raise an eyebrow. His grin grows. “Look, I don’t know the specifics of how this is going to work. I just know that it has to, because I’m not willing to try and silence my love for you anymore. I want to love you loud. I want everyone to know about it.”

“Jesse,” I sigh, fighting back tears. I want so badly for this to work. I want to believe that it can. But...

“Do you love me?” he asks, and I freeze. “No bullshit, Classic. Do you love me?”

I close my eyes and speak the truth. “Yes.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” I say instantly.

He takes my face in his hands, and when I open my eyes, I’m staring right into the most beautiful swirls of brown and green.

“Now is our time,” he says. “This is our place.” He presses a kiss to my lips, tasting the tears I hadn’t realized I’d cried. “Loving you is my superpower, Classic. Let me be great at it.”

His kiss is passionate and full of love. The kind of love I never thought I’d feel. The kind of love I never thought I deserved.

He wraps his arms around me and pulls me close, until our bodies are touching at every possible surface. He places one hand on my face, strokes his fingers down my jaw, then tugs lightly on my lower lip with his thumb.

“Nothing feels better than this, Classic. Nothing will ever feel better than us.”

An hour later,two hours past when I said I would arrive, I let myself into Riggs’s townhouse carrying the dish of now cold green bean casserole.

I’ve been looking forward to the Friendsgiving potluck they’d planned. Ivy and Kelley drove down from Chicago for it, and Roxanne and Ralph will be here soon. I’ve never been to a Friendsgiving before, but every other Thanksgiving dinner I’ve been to was tense, cold, and anxiety-inducing. I’m looking forward to making new memories, for both myself and my kids.

I walk through the living room, where June and Jude are currently watching a movie, then round the corner into the kitchen. I’m met with four pairs of curious eyes. Eyes belonging to people I’ve come to think of as family. I smile shyly as I set the casserole dish on the counter.

“Sorry I’m late,” I say, and take note of the smirks on Ivy and Bailey’s faces just as I hear laughter and screeching coming from my kids.

“JESSE,” Jude yells, and I let out a soft laugh as I watch Jesse scoop both my kids up and spin them in a circle with a roar.

“We told you, fuckers,” Bailey says with a laugh, and I turn back just in time to see Kelley and Riggs slapping money into Ivy and Bailey’s outstretched, waiting hands. I raise an eyebrow at them, and Ivy giggles.

“They really need to learn not to doubt us,” she says with a sly smile. I open my mouth to say something, just as Jesse’s arms wrap around my waist and he rests his chin on my shoulder.

“Hola, familia,” he says, his lips tickling my ear. “Y’all thought you could have Friendsgiving without me?”

Bailey barks a laugh.

“Puh-leeze,” she groans, “it’s about time you came to your senses. Your denial was giving me migraines.” Bailey and Ivy both laugh, and Jesse gasps playfully.

“You tiny hypocrite,” Jesse says, then points to Ivy. “You too. You’re both tiny little evil hypocrites.”

Ivy pushes a strand of blonde hair behind her ear then checks her nails.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she sing-songs. “I have never in my entire life refused to see what was right in front of me, instead choosing to bury myself in fear and denial in an attempt to ignore my very obvious feelings for someone else.” She glances up from her nails and shrugs. “You must be mistaking me for someone else.”

Kelley chuckles and Riggs snorts. Bailey flashes them both a scowl then turns her attention to Jesse. “Me either.”

“Tiny little lying hypocrites.”

“What am I missing?” I ask, bouncing my eyes between the two couples in front of me.

“Oh, I’ll tell you all about it,” Jesse says, giving my side a squeeze before walking around me and into the kitchen. “I’ve got enough stories of these four being boneheads to fill a whole book. Shit, to fill two whole books.”

“Three, if you count yourselves now,” Kelley says with a grin.

I still feel lost, but I don’t have a chance to ask any more questions before the rumble of a car outside announces the arrival of Roxanne. June runs to the door, and minutes later, Roxanne and Ralph are joining us in the kitchen. Ralph sets down the dishes they brought, and Roxanne embraces Jesse in a hug.

“Bout time you came to your damn senses,” she scolds him, and he winks at me over her head.

Riggs and Kelley start pulling dishes from the oven, stove, and fridge, spreading them out on the counters and setting them on potholders and uncovering the containers as they go. The townhouse fills with delicious smells, and Ivy hands out plates. I call June and Jude into the kitchen. June fixes her own plate and I fix one for Jude, which is basically just potatoes and a few pieces of ham.

“Hey,” Jesse says, looking up from one of the dishes on the counter. “Who made my frutas en tacha?” His brows are furrowed, and his lips are in the cutest little pout. “This is my Friendsgiving contribution.”

“You waited until the last minute to decide if you were coming home or not, and I didn’t want to take chances, so I called your mom and got the recipe,” Bailey says matter-of-factly. Then she adds with a sigh, “It’s probably not as good as yours, though.”

Jesse’s frown transforms into a grin immediately.