Page 84 of I Still Love You

“I know,” he murmurs against me.

“What do you want, Luke?” I need to hear the words from his mouth. I have to be sure a second chance with me is what he truly wants to explore.

“You.” He sprinkles three kisses down to my shirt, then pulls my top over my head, his hips holding me in place against the door. “I want you, Layla. So fucking much.”

I place my hand over his heart, feeling the intensity of its beat. “Is this the part of you that wants me, or is it…” I glance down even though my waist cuts off his bottom half.

“Both,” he admits sheepishly. “My heart doesn’t want to live without you. I fucking love you, Lay. I still do, even though I said we were over.” His eyes roam my chest and the lacey pink bra that covers the parts of me he’s greedy for. “I still love you, and I doubt I’ll ever stop.”

Leaning into him, I connect my mouth with his, using my teeth to dig in and tug his lower lip closer before releasing it.

“Fuck, baby.”

“Tell me again,” I say as he reaches around my back and unclips my bra.

His eyes drop to my chest, his hardness digging into my center as I straddle his waist. “I love you, and I love your tits.” Lowering his face to my chest, he plucks one of my nipples, rolling his tongue over it and moving his hand over my ass. “What are these?” he questions, grabbing the tickets I stared at for the hour I was in the car waiting for him.

I clear my throat, my feet sliding down to the ground when he releases me. “Those were back-up. Well, sort of.”

He scans the information on the tickets and licks his lips. “These are the best seats in the house and a little far from home, don’t you think?”

“I thought it would be nice for you to see your brother. You can take him to the game with you if you want.”

“Fuck that,” he says, tossing the tickets on the end table nearby. He picks me up, causing a squeal to bubble up in my chest and break free. He tosses me over his shoulder and slaps my ass. “I’m taking you, then and now.” I giggle and shriek when he effortlessly darts up the stairs, feeling the love between us consume me as he kicks his door open and drops me on the bed.

This is what I’ve been waiting for, for Luke to look at me with love in his eyes, for him to cherish every moment with me. Like he did before. When he presses his lips to the skin of my inner thigh and unbuttons my shorts, I realize we’re going to be okay. He wouldn’t have opened his door if he wasn’t willing to give this his all.

And lucky for him, I am, too.

Luke Sacks is the only second chance I want, the only one I’ll ever need.

Layla - One Year Later

Juggling the cake on my arm, I stick the key into our townhouse and push the door open with my foot. I moved in with Luke shortly after we made up. The first few weeks were rocky, but I think it was mostly due to both of us trying to forgive ourselves over the mistakes we’ve made and the challenges of falling into a new rhythm after all that happened. He shared what went down in Austin, and I explained to him the reasoning behind wanting to prove to Andrew that I wasn’t single. He loosened up some once his therapist gave him the proper tools to work through the emotions, and I’ve even attended some sessions with him.

When I push the door shut behind me, I slip out of my work shoes. I smile at the seasonal pillows I tossed on the couches last week since Spring finally arrived, the knickknacks on the entertainment center, and the enlarged picture of when I was little with my dad holding me. I head toward the kitchen where a clatter echoes from. I wish I could say I’m surprised to see Luke’s upper half hidden inside the cabinet under the sink, his arms stretched out of view, but I’m not.

I set the cake, our dessert for tomorrow, onto the counter and take in the toolbox at Luke’s side. “What’s going on now?”

Luke’s body jumps, and I smile slyly. “Jesus, fuck!” He pulls his body down an inch to peek at me from inside the cabinet. “You scared the shit out of me. What are you doing home early?”

“I’m not home early,” I tell him, glancing at the clock on the stove. “I’m right on time.” I lean against the opposite counter, my eyes roaming over his greased-up shirt and basketball shorts. I can tell he’s not wearing boxers underneath them. “Is the sink leaking again?”

“What do you think? I’m at the point where I’m going to rip this fucking thing out; the faucet and all the piping.” We’ve been dealing with this issue on and off for the past three months. I’m just as tired of it as he is, so I can understand his frustration, but…

“Did you cancel your anger management appointment for this?” Even though he’s passed the required time from the judge and finished his probation and community service, he’s continued to see his therapist to maintain his own inner clarity and peace, but as of late, he’s been going less and less. I think he’s finally forgiving himself for the bad choices he’s made and for how he reacted with Andrew, even if my coworker was completely out of line. We haven’t seen him since that day, not after he swore he’d never come back to Regional if I dropped the charges I initially planned to press against him.

His body stills for a split second when I ask, giving me my answer before he says, “I rescheduled.”

“I hope you’re just joking about ripping the pipes out then,” I tell him, walking closer and lowering myself. I hook my leg to his other side and sit on his lap. Lifting the hem of his shirt, I glide my fingers along his ridged lower abdomen. “Because we can’t have everyone over tomorrow if we don’t have running water.”

When his arms relax, his elbows falling to the floor of the cabinet, I know I’ve successfully distracted him from his frustrations, from this stupid sink that can’t seem to get it together.

“Can’t we just call an actual plumber?” I beg, subtly grinding into him. His body responds almost immediately, his cock hardening under my weight.

His voice strained, he declares, “I can fix it, Layla.”

“You’ve fixed it the last two times, and the issue is still occurring,” I point out, removing my scrub top. “As sexy as it is to watch you down here, you should swallow your pride and have someone who knows what they’re doing come deal with it. Pipes are a lot different than human joints.”

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