Small Town Big Man
With open hands, I sit up straight, and look her directly in the eyes. “What do want from me, Laney? Can you tell me that?”
“What do you mean what do I want from you?”
“You don't know what you want. You're toying with me. One second you want me, and then in a single breath it's like you don't. I'm not going to put myself out there and get nothing in return. I did that once already and it destroyed me. I can’t do it again.”
“Is that what you think I’m doing?”
“It's what I see.”
Rolling her eyes, she grabs her mug and holds it in both hands. Taking a long sip, she just peers from behind the rim of the mug.
“I'm not going to play this cat and mouse game.”
Lowering her mug slowly, she holds it in front of her waist. “I don't know what you want me to say.”
“I want you tell me what you're thinking and feeling. What do you want, Laney?”
Dragging her teeth back and forth over her bottom lip, she blinks owlishly. “I'm afraid to say it out loud.”
“Why? Why not just be honest with yourself?”
“Because what if I'm wrong?”
“Do you want to try and get back with your ex? Is that it? Am I just a test fuck to see if you still have feelings for him?”
“What? No! That's absurd, Anders, that's not what this is.” Setting the mug down, she plants her palms into the top of the counter and leans over. “I'm not an asshole and I'm not a slut.”
“I never said you were. But yesterday you gave me the cold shoulder, you acted like I wasn't there. And I saw your face when we left your old place, I saw the look in your eyes. You don't know what you want.”
Pursing her lips, she veers her stare. “And you do? You know what you want?”
“I know exactly what I want.”
Her eyes glaze over, and I can see the tears sitting on the rims. I'm not trying to upset her, but I want her to be honest with herself.
“How can you know? How can you be so certain?”
“Because I did mean every word I said last night. I love you.” Standing, I move to her side.
She tries to take a step back, but I swoop my arm around her waist and pull her in. I'm done letting her run away from what she wants.
Laney knows, she's just too afraid to admit it. I think she needs a push, she needs someone to help her grab it.
Her lips trembles as her eyes search mine. “How can you know that?”
“I know because of what I feel. I've never felt this way before. And I'm not going to let it slip away from me.”
“But what about Cara? She's gorgeous, and I saw the way she was looking at you. What if she wants you back?”
“Do you want Marc back?”
“God no, not a chance in hell.”
“Same here.” Running my thumb across her bottom lip, I smile. “I told you what I want. I told you how I feel. Now it's your turn to be honest with yourself.”
Her eyes stay steady on mine, and she chews on the inside of her cheek. “I feel the same way. I think I love you. I've been trying to tell myself this can’t be real. But I can’t deny it anymore, it feels too good to be wrong.”
“I'm not trying to push you—” I start to say, but she cuts me off with a kiss.
Her lips are soft, but fierce. She kisses me several times, holding my face, and then she pulls away a bit, her forehead still touching mine.
“I don't care what anyone else says or thinks. I mean, sure, we might be moving a little too fast, but screw anyone who doesn't like it. It's not about them, it's about us. Right?”
She kisses me once more on the mouth before she turns to her plate and starts spreading a giant glob of butter all over it.
“Right,” I agree with a chuckle as I watch her.
Setting the toast back down, she wipes her hands off on her bare legs. In nothing but one of my tee shirts, and her hair pulled up into a messy bun, she's glowing.
“I love you, Anders.”
She presses up onto the tips of her toes, resting her hands on my chest as she kisses me again. This kiss feels different. My entire body goes up in flames, searing me on the inside and leaving me completely vulnerable.
But I'm not afraid of that feeling anymore.
Because I know this time it's different.
This time, it's real.EpilogueLaneyOne Year LaterMy eyes crack open and I'm hit with an icy chill. Shivering, I sit up slightly. Glancing down, I see the blankets in a ball on the floor, leaving us exposed and bare.
Taking a moment, I turn my attention to Anders. He's out like a light, sprawled across the bed like it's the middle of summer. Not even the cold morning air is enough to rouse him awake. That's because he's a man who was born for this life.