Page 101 of Tulips and Lost Time

“That’s because I know where I’m going.” I snatch her keys and do the honors. “I’ve known, Bear, all along, where my life was heading. I just had the unfortunate luck of having to wait for you to live yours in the meantime.”

“Making decisions for us both,” she whispers, lowering her voice when I open the door and cross the threshold. “You think you get to dictate my life.”

“An argument we’ve already hashed and beaten to death. I’m not interested in fighting over that anymore.” I pull the key from the lock and turn to close the door at our backs. But I don’t miss the sneer on her lips. The lingering rage she continues to work through. “Come on,” I take her hand and duck my head. It’s weird, and Pink Panther-y, but I lead her through the living room and down the hall. I’ve been in this apartment countless times, despite the fact that the main occupant wanted nothing to do with me for the longest time. Which means, luckily for me, I know which room is hers. I don’t have to slow us down and explore an unfamiliar place. “Has Blake ever slept in your room?”

“Oh, shut up.” She thumps my shoulder, silent and painful, and takes the lead past my sister’s closed bedroom door. She hovers by hers for a beat. Hesitant and shaking. But when I lean into her space and raise a single, challenging brow, she rolls her eyes and pushes through. “Fine,” she hisses, holding the door just long enough for me to cross the threshold. Then she pushes it shut again, careful not to make a single sound with the latch.

“So this is your bedroom, huh?” I glance around the spacious room. The bed that’ll easily—with a little extra snuggling to compensate—hold two. I peek at the dream catcher hung on the wall and the fairy lights dangling from the ceiling. When the main light is out and the fairy lights are on, I imagine it’s almost as though she’s sleeping under the stars. “It smells like flowers in here.” I turn from the back wall and find her waiting by the door. Shy. Hesitant. Terrified. “I’m not judging you, ya know?”

“I don’t…” She searches my eyes, desperation making her voice quiver. “What?”

“You think if you say something—like, asking me to kiss you, or asking me to love you—is reason to be embarrassed. But I’m not judging you.”

“I know. You’re?—”

“You could ask me to wear devil’s horns and fuck a horse in public, and I still wouldn’t judge you.”

“A horse?” Her lips wrinkle in disgust. “You would fuck a horse? What the hell is wrong with you?”

Chuckling, I drop my hands by my sides and wander in her direction. “No, I wouldn’t fuck a horse. But you could ask me for anything, Kari.” I stop in front of her, our toes almost touching and her choppy breath hitting my chin, “And I’ll go to the ends of the earth to be what you need me to be.”

“But you won’t assault a horse?”

“Not unless you really, really begged. And then you’d have to write a five-page essay outlining your very specific reasons as to why you think I should do that to the poor beast. He doesn’t have a voice, after all, and sexually assaulting an animal is a crime in forty-nine US states.”

“Pretty sure it’s all fifty,” she sniggers. “Or, it should be.”

I bring my hand up and place it under her chin, gently tilting her head back until it rests against the door. “Should I tell you when I’m gonna kiss you? Or will I just do my thing?”

“Telling me makes it formal and odd,” she gulps. “That makes me feel weird.”

“So I’ll just do me then.” I pinch her chin between my thumb and finger and draw her to the tips of her toes. “And you’ll tell me when I’ve done something you don’t like.”

She licks her lips and nods, barely, considering the grip I have on her face. “Yes.”

“And you’ll speak up, clearly, and loudly, if I’m approaching a boundary you don’t want crossed?”

She swallows and nods again. “Yes.”

“Are there any boundaries you’d like to voice right now? Since we’re talking and things are already weird, you may as well use the moment to say what you need to say.”

She shakes her head, wordless and yet, a million thoughts flitter in her eyes.

“Can I pick you up?” I release her chin and gently peel her bag away, allowing it to slide to the floor with a too-loud scrape of the zipper against the door. “Can I put you to bed?”

Her cheeks burn a horrified red. But she closes her eyes and nods. So fucking brave. So trusting. “Yes. To both.”

“Thank fuck.” I slip my hands down her ribs and around to her backside. Then I lift, slamming my lips to hers when she opens her mouth to squeal. I turn on my heels, suckling her tongue into my mouth and groaning when she wraps her arms around my neck. She’s terrified. But she wants this. Fuckin’ A, she wants it, and I’ve waited for what seems like a million years. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” Instead of tossing her to the mattress, I turn and sit instead, holding her on my lap and grunting when she grinds down over my hardened cock. “So delicious, Bear.”

“Take control of this,” she pants, rolling her hips and teasing me with what could be. “Be bossy and stuff, so I don’t have to be in charge.”

I slip my hand beneath her shirt and trace the long lines of her back. Over her ribs and along the valley of her spine. “You want to be passive in this.” I break our kiss and dive in to taste her neck instead. I bite, but I don’t suck. I nibble, but I don’t leave a single fucking mark for someone else to witness tomorrow. “That’s not the Kari I remember, demanding I kiss her on the halfpipe.”

“That Kari was younger and braver.” She reaches down to the hem of her shirt and lifts it until the fabric catches on her chin. She surprises us both, staring into my eyes when, for the first time in my life, I don’t help a woman undress. “And she wasn’t asking for sex back then. Just a kiss.”

“You want to fuck tonight?” My lips curl higher, playful and verging on goofy. “You move fast, Bear. From I hate your guts, to split me open, in the space of a single shift at work.”

“Split me open?” She rolls her eyes, mocking. But at least she’s back to her normal, challenging self. “You think quite a lot of yourself, don’t you?”

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