Nothing But Trouble (Malibu University 1)

“Stop saying that. You are strong. That’s the problem. You take on too much. You assume you can carry the weight for everyone, but here’s the news flash, Reagan, you’re not superhuman. What you went through would’ve destroyed anyone.”

Staring out the window, he looks…lost.

“I couldn’t take it anymore and you…you don’t let anything knock you down...”

“Stop trying to be everything that’s expected of you,” I murmur quietly and yet desperate to make him understand. “The good son, brother, boyfriend. The difference between you and me is that no one expects anything of me so I’m free to be anything I want to be. Who would you be given the same chance?”

He watches me intently, lashes lowered. The silence as meaningful as a million words.

Reaching out, he slowly slides his warm fingers up the side of my neck and cups my neck, guiding me closer. And I let him. I let him put his arms around me and hold me tight because I love him. Despite the pain he caused me. Despite the fact that nothing is settled.

“Take me back,” he says quietly. His face crowds my neck and his shoulders curve around me, the muscles hard and taut with tension.

“Take me back, Alice.” It’s muffled, soundproofed by the fabric of his suit jacket. He lifts his head and bloodshot eyes meet mine. “You said you’d try anything. Give me a chance to make it up to you. I’ll beg if you want. I’ll do anything.”

Always stoic in the face of adversity. The slight tremble of his chin gives him away. It doesn’t seem right to keep him in suspense and I’ve never believed in delayed gratification.

A smile sneaks up on me, sends even more tears running down my cheeks. “I never gave you up, dummy.”

His eyes spark, flying all over my face. “Really?”

Love doesn’t exist in a vacuum. It’s inextricably intertwined with self-sacrifice, vulnerability, risk…and yes, pain. Maybe that’s why we’re so often disillusioned by it. We demand it to be perfect when in essence love can’t exist without the risk of pain and the cost of safety.

His head lowers and his lips touch mine carefully, with all the apprehension in the world while a soft tremble ripples down his back.

“I missed, missed, missed you so fucking much.” The words trip from his tongue in a convoluted mess, in between soft, fast kisses. His arms hold me tighter, his hands climb higher. They curl around the back of my head as his kisses turn feral, hungry, starved by all those months of absence.

Clothes get shed on our way to the bed. My dress, or rather Zoe’s dress, may no longer be wearable with the way Reagan rips it off of me. His shirt suffers a similar demise. “Worst case of blue balls I’ve ever had in my life. I’m warning you now, don’t plan on leaving this bed for days.”

“It’s Zoe’s bed.” I squeak when he nips my ear. “I don’t think you want to get her any more mad at you than she already is.”

“Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll barricade the door,” he says, smiling against the skin of my neck.

We fall onto the bed together. He braces himself before landing on me with his full weight. Then he gets up on an elbow and stares down. “I didn’t, you know. I would never…” His fixed stare won’t let mine go.

“It’s been four months. You didn’t sleep with anyone?”

Now he looks offended, maybe even a little mad. “No. You don’t think I can keep my dick in my pants for a few months?” For a moment I lose him to his thoughts. “Did you?” comes out very carefully.

“What if I said yes? What if I said I didn’t hear a peep out of you and came to the very painful conclusion that I probably never would have? Would it be wrong of me to have seen someone else?”

His body relaxed into mine, his erection pressing between my legs. “No,” he murmurs.

“I didn’t leave you. You left me.”

His mouth lowers, searches the corners of my lips, travels along my jaw. “I know,” he whispers and kisses me there. “Never again. Never, ever again. I’m going to prove it to you.”

After that, he turns his words into action and makes love to me like he never has before, his thrusts slow and deep, drawing out the pleasure until we’re both sweaty and exhausted. I push him onto his back and he lets me. Riding him, I go off like a Fourth of July fireworks extravaganza while Reagan watches me closely.

“I love you,” he says, voice husky, the undeniable evidence of his feelings reflected in his eyes. “I am crazy in love with you.” And then he follows, jacking his hips up, holding on to mine in a painful grip. Together, we tumble headfirst back into it. This thing that exists between us, that won’t let go.