Conventionally Yours (True Colors 1)

Chapter Thirty-Five

Conrad

For all his bossiness, Alden wasn’t giving me a ton of direction. But when he said, “You,” and our eyes met, my body vibrated, as if there were more feelings than my skin could contain, so many emotions coursing through me. His trust in me was almost overwhelming. But I believed him, completely.

“Me too,” I admitted. “Didn’t want to let myself, but yeah… Wanted you so much.”

“Same.” He moved restlessly against the mattress. “Now. Please. No more waiting.”

“No more waiting. Can’t believe we’re here.” I peppered his face with kisses before sitting enough to take care of the condom. “Can’t believe this is real life.”

“Oh, it’s real.” His voice was tight as he arched up toward me, his eagerness making me the impatient one. But I knew enough to go slow. Super slow. As slow as—

“Killing me. Come on.” And then his back bowed again, body meeting mine, and we were moving together in earnest, all ancient rhythm and brand-new sensations, mingling together. My mouth found his again, swallowing his moans. Despite wanting it to last forever, it was too good to draw out, impossible to keep control. There was no holding back with him, not anymore. He had all of me, everything I had to give.

And I finally believed that was enough, that I could be enough for him. Exactly as he was to me. He was everything to me. Center of my universe, and not simply in that moment. I felt so, so much for him. More than I could ever put in words, so I tried to show him with my body, telling him over and over how much he meant to me.

Even without me directing him, he wiggled a hand between us, and him knowing what he wanted and going for it cracked whatever was left of my resolve.

“There. Don’t stop.” His voice broke.

As if I could, as if I’d want to, as if…

All thought ceased as everything peaked at once. Him. Me. Us. Emotions. Bodies. Futures. Pasts. Nothing made any sense, and yet there was a stark clarity that had never been there before. Pleasure shoved every doubt from my brain, pushed past logic and reason until there was only him.

“Never moving again,” I panted, collapsing next to him, gathering him close. We were both a mess, but I was too boneless to care.

“I’m inclined to agree.” His eyes were closed, his face relaxed, speech dreamy.

“You okay?” I kissed his forehead.

“So okay.” Sighing happily, he snuggled into my side. “I mean, eventually, I’m going to want a shower, but right now… Pretty perfect.”

“Perfect is right. Shower sounds good.” Eyelids heavy, I yawned.

My next conscious thought was a warm washcloth brushing over my skin, shower-damp Alden leaning over me on the bed, wet hair sprinkling little droplets onto my stomach.

“Crap,” I said, slowly rousing. “How long did I nap?”

“Not that long. I dozed off a little too. You looked too peaceful to drag into the shower.”

“Are you still doing ok—”

“Conrad.” He silenced me with a firm kiss. “I’m not made of tissue paper. I’m fine. Promise. I wanted that. It was…everything.”

“Yeah it was.” I tugged him back down to me, wet head and towels and all. “We probably need dinner, but I’m still good with the whole never-leaving-bed-again plan.”

“You’ll have to move. Eventually.” There was sadness in his eyes that hadn’t been there earlier. The conversation he’d bailed on came rushing back, all the things we’d left unsaid, but this time I wasn’t going to let him squirm away from some real talk.

“Hey.” I kissed his temple. “I meant what I said. You’ve got me. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Except the pro tour.” He sighed before painting a patently fake smile on his face. “Which you deserve. And I’m happy for you—”

“Liar.”

“No, I am. I want you to have that dream. You worked hard for it. You earned your shot. If I’m sounding reluctant, it’s not because I don’t want it for you. More that I’m sad about letting you go.”

“Maybe my dream’s changed. Maybe you don’t have to let me go.”

“Don’t be silly.” He propped himself up on an elbow to stare down at me. “The check from this win won’t last forever. If they offered you a slot on the pro tour, you’ve got to take it. And maybe we could make long distance work or something, but you can’t turn it down because of me.”

“No, but I could turn it down because of me.” I held up a hand before he could open his mouth to protest. “Cutthroat competition was never my big thing. I wanted recognition and validation and financial stability. And as it turns out, I didn’t need Odyssey to tell me that I’m a success and a good person. That was up to me all along.”

“I get that,” he said softly. “I thought I needed this win for direction, validation like you said, a reward for this last year of awful. Which wasn’t as bad as yours—”