Page 78 of Tell Me Again

There’s some other emotion in his voice now that I can’t quite identify, but it doesn’t matter anyway. The answer is one hundred percent yes.

“I’ll be there.”

My chest feels full, especially when he grins even wider. His lips are on mine again a second later, and his hands settle on my arms, squeezing gently. And this time, when he pulls back and straightens up, his eyes are bright and eager.

“I can’t wait.” He breathes another kiss on my lips, then glances sideways at the microwave clock. “Shit, I gotta go.”

He twists and reaches behind him for the mug he’d set down a few minutes ago, then takes a really long swig. The next thing I know, he’s caught me up in his arms again, and he’s turning me around to press my ass against the counter, his lips crushing into mine.

God, now he tastes like coffee.

“Ahh, fuck, I’m... gonna miss you,” he murmurs between kisses. “Is this normal? I don’t wanna leave.”

I’m breathless and speechless, and so I just recapture his lips in one more kiss before he pulls away again. “Go. I’ll see you—ahh, shoot, I don’t have a key, and, uh...”

I frown a little as I look up at him, and he’s momentarily confused, but then he flashes me a silly grin.

“One sec,” he says, and he jogs across the room to the coffee table, where his wallet and keys sit. A second later, he’s tossing me a plain silver key. “Just lock up when you leave. And, uh, well”—he runs a hand through his hair and grimaces—“if you can turn the heater off when you’re not here. It’s, uh, kinda finicky and uses a fuckton of propane. The thermostat’s on the wall in the hall.”

I smile and nod as I slip the key into my pocket. “Got it. No problem.”

He’s standing there, staring at me now, not moving. And that hungry look is back in his eyes again. He glances toward the door and then back to me. “I gotta go.”

“I know.”

“Ahh, fuck. One more kiss?”

I’m laughing, even as we both move toward each other. And we slide into each other’s arms again—his hands settling on my waist, my fingers playing at the back of his neck—as he leans down to kiss me. He groans as we pull apart. God, it’s too short. Always too short.

“More later,” he rasps, his voice low and thready.

“Definitely.”

He grins, straightens up, and then grabs his baseball cap and coat as he hurries out the door.

I hear his truck start up. A moment later, everything’s quiet, and I’m alone. Here. In his house. My... boyfriend’s house?

God. Yeah. My boyfriend. Coop is my boyfriend. My lover.

There’s a rush of heat to my chest, along with a flood of memories from yesterday and last night. And I stumble over and collapse onto the couch, closing my eyes. He’s incredible, and I’m so in love. I’m so... happy and so in love.

It’s a strange feeling. Freeing in so many ways. I wonder how I’m going to feel later, seeing him at the diner. In public again. Lovers this time. Boyfriends and lovers. And I’m going to want him to kiss me. Even if we’re in public.

I swallow hard and turn over onto my side, looking around his small but neat living room. And I’m suddenly shaking a bit.

There’s still Brenna. And Omaha. My job. And my parents.

Do I... have to tell them? My parents? I’ll have to tell them the wedding is off. But...

There’s a sharp pain in my chest as I hear echoes of my dad’s angry voice, screaming at Coop, screaming at me, threatening me. He’s not really like that anymore. At least, it’s been years since he’s gotten violent and rageful like that. Years since he’s had a drink.

But that doesn’t mean he’d be accepting of his gay son. His gay son and his gay son’s lover.

And my mom... I’m not sure she’d care one way or another. I’m not sure...

“It’s your choice. If and when and . . . to whom.”

Brenna. God, Brenna. I close my eyes and let out a long, shaky breath. Brenna’s right. I don’t owe my parents anything. They’re not entitled to know if I don’t want to share. And I’m not sure I’m ready for that quite yet, even if I’m going to do my best to be open, to not hide this relationship.

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