She smiled a real smile. “They’re exhausting, but I love them.”
“Ah, so you can love something, good to know.”
“Could you not?” She glared.
I just grinned, loving her every reaction down to the way she swallowed when she was angry.
I was in deep.
I walked carefully as to not impale myself on a potted plant and make the situation worse, thankful she refused to even look at me since she’d get an eyeful as we made it to the door and shoved the key in.
“The paint’s new,” was the first thing she said.
“Yup.” I stood awkwardly. “And the, uh, lighting, they fixed what we asked.”
“Totally.” She rocked back on her heels as we slowly made our way around the apartment, stopping at the master bedroom. “After you.”
“No after you, I insist,” I motioned for her to go through.
“No, no, you first.” She laughed nervously.
“Fine.” I swallowed the lump of emotion and trepidation in my throat and walked in.
Behind me, she gasped. “It’s the same headboard.”
“I still don’t remember building it. I blacked out.”
“Blame the snakes.” She laughed.
I joined in, and then we were both reminiscing about everything as we walked through the master into the bathroom, past a new dryer, and back into the kitchen.
“It was intense but fun,” I finally said.
“You see the new interns?” she asked.
I rolled my eyes. “Child’s play. Can you imagine someone being afraid of a little obstacle course?”
“Never.” She laughed.
And just like that, we were back.
The tension was so thick it was hard to breathe, and like the ghost from Christmas past, the doorbell rang.
We both jumped and said in unison. “Classic conditioning.”
“Is that why he brings bells to meetings?” she asked.
“Holy shit!” I slammed the counter with my hand. “I wondered why I started sweating and almost cried that one time—”
“You almost cried.”
“Long story, you don’t get to hear it.” I jabbed a finger at her as she opened the door and frowned.
On the floor were a bottle of wine, two glasses, and another manila envelope.
“When will it end?” I asked no one in general.
“I wonder if that’s just how he runs penthouses, through fear and foreboding. Live in this gorgeous building, I’ll give you the world, but remember when the devil, aka Max, calls, you’re gonna shit your pants.” She laughed.
I joined in and grabbed a glass from her. The wine was already uncorked, so both of us poured a glass and stared at the envelope.
“I almost don’t want to open it,” she whispered.
“What? Why?” I reached for it.
She grabbed my hand and stopped me. “Because.” Tears filled her eyes. “It feels like it’s really over if we do. I don’t want, I can’t—”
I’d never seen Olivia cry so hard in my entire life.
Ever.
She wasn’t a crier.
But suddenly, she was in my arms.
And I was kissing her tears.
And then she was pulling my tie loose at the same time I was jerking up her skirt.
“This is crazy,” I muttered between hungry kisses.
“I love you,” she whispered against my neck, her mouth pressed there where it belonged, where it had always belonged. “I thought we were too young, I thought that I wouldn’t have security or money that we’d regret it, you’d resent me, I thought—”
“You did the right thing, even though I hated it.” I jerked her skirt completely up. “I was immature, still am, still pass out when I see snakes, even pictures of snakes make me lose an erection, serious problem. No snake art, all right?”
She threw her arms around me. “Just don’t turn around then.”
“Not funny. You need this erection, don’t you?”
“Oops, forgot.” She wiggled against me, “Can I rip your shirt and make the buttons go flying?”
“I mean, is there any other way to do it?” I said while she reached for my shirt and ripped it open.
Her gasp was all I needed to feel like a man again. “You like?”
“What, do you have a gym in your office?” She ran her fingers down my stomach. “I’m going to name them.” Then she leaned down. “My precious—”
“Okay, you’ve been alone way too long, need you, now.”
She threw her arms around me as we stumbled back against the now black leather couches. Shoes went flying, inhibitions were lost, the wine hadn’t even been finished yet.
Our kisses were mature.
Different.
But at the same time, more aggressive, needy, because it had only ever been her for me. “I love you too. I always have. I always will.”
I didn’t prep her.
I didn’t need to.
She was ready for me, and I’d been waiting to be with her for years.
We joined.
And that was it.
She was mine.
I rolled my hips.
She moaned my name and hooked an ankle around me, pulling me closer as we tumbled off the couch, her on top as she rode me. Her breasts jiggled beneath her blouse, so I tore it open since they were crying touch me.