Page 83 of Puck Princess

“You’re gonna have to give me a second,” I laugh weakly.

He shakes his head, suddenly serious. “Not just like this. All of it, Cal. I want all of you.”

The sex haze is thick because I have no idea what he’s talking about. I frown, and a frustrated growl rumbles through his chest.

“I don’t want you sleeping on the other side of town. I don’t want to wake up without you in my bed.” He looks around the room, a crease forming between his brows as he takes in the empty room. “And I don’t want you buying any furniture for this place.”

“But I already did,” I squeak out.

“Then return it,” he snaps, stroking his thumb roughly over my cheek. “Use mine. Or don’t. We can put it out by the curb and use yours instead. I don’t fucking care, just?—”

“Your furniture is nice, though. It’s like a bachelor pad, but it’s still leather. We can’t get rid of?—”

“Callie.” The way he says my name so softly and looks so deeply into my eyes steals my breath. “Live with me.”

I blink up at him, afraid to move and shatter the moment. “What?”

“Live with me,” he repeats. “For real. Not because it’s convenient or because it’s safer for you. Live with me because I don’t want to wake up in a bed without you again. Ever.”

“Owen,” I breathe.

He kisses me softly, shaking his head. “Don’t say anything else unless it’s to tell me you’re moving in immediately. Because that’s all I want, Callie.”

“Are you drunk?” I blurt, a half-crazed laugh bubbling out of me. “Is that what this is?”

“I’ve had enough to drink that I’m feeling real honest right about now. Which is why I’m going to tell you that I want to make you coffee in the morning. I want to go grocery shopping with you and fight about what to watch every night. I want to do all of the normal, boring shit I never thought I’d want to do, but the catch is, I only want to do it with you.”

“I want that too,” I say softly. His lips stretch into a warm smile of relief and he kisses me.

As it turns heated, he groans into my mouth. “I also want to get off.”

I toss my head back, laughing, and he picks me up and marches me towards the bedroom.

“Owen! Where are we going?”

“The bed.”

“But it’s not—” I start to say. But he doesn’t let me finish before he tosses me on the mattress and pounces on top of me.

There’s a loud pop, followed by a wheeze as we sink to the floor.

“It’s an air mattress…” I finish as the bed goes flat. Owen is laying on top of me, looking utterly confused.

I start to laugh so hard I can barely breathe. Then he starts to laugh.

When we finally catch our breath, he kisses me. “I do care about the bed, and I’m keeping mine. An inflatable mattress ruins at least half of the fun I plan to have with you as my permanent roommate.”

We grow serious and Owen fills me in a single thrust. We move together slowly, passionately. Our eyes stay locked, even when we kiss. And when we fall, we fall together.

Afterwards, I grab the three blankets I have in the entire apartment and pile them on the floor, making a nest of sorts. “Are you going to be comfortable on the ground? We could always go to your place.”

His eyes are already shut. “I can sleep anywhere.”

“Even a deflated air mattress?”

He reaches for me, tucking me into his side. “If you’re there, yes.”

I snuggle into him and his breathing instantly becomes even and rhythmic. The sleep of someone who isn’t panicking about what comes next. About what it all means.

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