That I was obsessed with my grump.
And so I kissed him.
And everything was right with the world.
19
Epilogue - Dan James
In my twenty-four years of life, I had always thought of myself as a fairly practical person. Objective. Analytical. Not prone to fantasy. I mean, I was anaccountant, for God's sake, the only fantasies I'd ever entertained had to do with my asshole boyfriend, who I might have to kill, since all the food we had been carefully preparing all afternoon had suddenly disappeared only ten minutes before our guests were supposed to arrive.
Our guests, who were our friends at the bar, our co-workers, and of course, ourbest friends, who were coming here with their boyfriends (a.k.a, my brother) and the rest of their friend group.
I’d already been freaking out over the whole thing, since this was very much an interrogation of sorts, or maybe I could just call it a zoo visit, since the main purpose of this ‘housewarming party’ (which they’d forced us to organize when they found out that forsomereason—me dating Andy—I wasn’t going to be moving out of here anytime soon) was to observe us in our natural habitat now that we weren’t ‘in the closet’ anymore, or like Nina had said, ‘not hiding in a bathroom stall’.
“What's up?” Andy asked, coming out of his bedroom wearing an untucked shirt and some jeans that made him look unfairly good for how mad I was at him right now.
“What's up?” I asked, pointing with a hand at the living room. “‘What's up’?That'sexactly what I'm asking myself, because all the food that was here, that we prepared, and that I carefully laidout just before I went to shower is suspiciously absent.” I looked around. “I don’t see any gnomes or Tinkerbells or anything of the sort that might have stolen them, so why don’tyoutell me what the fuck is up?”
I might have believed for a second, or a fraction of it, that Andy wasn't at fault, if his lips weren't already twitching up, his pale blue eyes glinting with evil delight at my situation. “I’m afraid I don't know what you're talking about. Should we call the magic police?”
I walked up to him and with a finger on his chest, his very muscled, sculpted,steelchest, I said, “You better give back that food right fucking now or I promise you your dick won’t feel my mouth in a week.”
Now Andy was fully grinning. “That sounds like torture.”
“Amonth,” I amended, but Andy only seemed to like it more, which he showed by basically pushing me back against a door and pressing all of his front against me, nibbling on my neck and leaving hungry kisses there that had me quickly melting, like we were just doing foreplay and our guests weren’t going to arrive anytime now.
“Andy–” I said, becausefuck, they felt good, and I only wanted more.
Andy raised his head, staring at me with amused eyes before putting his hand on the door behind me and pushing it open, the motion making my stomach swoop as we moved with it, and it was then that I saw that all the food was carefully placed in various places in my bedroom.
I glared at him again. “I may not be using my bed anymore, but I swear to God, if there's a single stain in my sheets, you're paying for the dry cleaning.”
Andy laughed, sliding a hand behind my neck, and guiding my mouth to his, he bit my lower lip. “You've been driving me crazy all day with your twitchy little nerves that you won’t admit to having. Are you ready to talk about them now?”
I stilled. “What if I said no?”
He gave me a look. “I wouldn’t believe you.”
I really didn’t want to talk about it, but now that he was here, so close to me, now that I could feel his warmth enveloping me, I felt myself start to unwind a bit, steadier now that he was here to help hold me up.
“I just want everything to go okay,” I admitted.
Maybe my nerves were a little exaggerated when it came to this occasion, but to me, it felt monumental. All of our friends already knew that we were together—an announcement that had felt as chaotic as this party was probably going to be— but I still felt nervous at the prospect of people watching us with…expectations.
They’d all been like ‘It was high time you told us, we’ve been making bets forso long’, and even if it should have been comforting that somehow they’d seen what Andy and I couldn’t before we did, I was afraid that I was going to disappoint them.
Some sort of remaining insecurity kept creeping up my spine at the thought that someone might look at us and think that this was going to fail, that this was a train wreck, that we were like oil and water, never meant to mix, and although I knew I shouldn't give a shit about what anyone else thought, having everyone here to watch our relationship close up made me twitchy.
“We could always cancel, you know,” Andy said, his eyes studying me like he could read me like a book, something that he was getting better and better at every day, which was equal partsendearing and irritating, since I didn't want to be something to be fixed.
I also needed to admit, though, that knowing he saw me, knowing he could tell when something was wrong with me even before I could say it, was more than a little comforting. It made me feel stronger, like I could take on the world, it made me feelsafe, because Iknewhe had my back.
It made words I’d thought I wouldn’t be ready to tell anyone in a long time threaten to come out of my lips.
Words that meant everything.
“I don't want to cancel, just–” I groaned, “Don't let me overthink anymore, okay?” I said, looking up at him, the few inches that separated us feeling even larger whenever I felt small like this, vulnerable.