Page 144 of Harrison's Wedding

I gasp and clutch my chest. “Don’t say anymore. It hurts too much!”

“Still want to fuck me, Harrison Fletcher? Or is that a dealbreaker for you?” she laughs.

I climb onto the bed and lie down next to her. I trace the outline of her bra, trailing my pointer finger along the top of it, and her breathing becomes shallow.

“I don’t think I’ll ever not want to fuck you, Heather York. I thought you’d know that by now. You could ruin a thousand tables with a thousand cold drinks and I’d still want you in my bed.”

“That is the most weirdly romantic thing you’ve ever said to me,” she says with a grin.

“I try,” I tell her, then I bring my lips to hers and kiss her.

When our kiss ends, I peel her underwear off her slowly before spreading her legs and burying my head between them. I use my tongue and lips on her clit while pushing my fingers in and out of her. She writhes in ecstasy and moans my name loudly.

I’ve missed this; I’ve missed her. I’m so lucky to get to be with her. I savor every gasp and moan that she makes, loving that I get to give her this pleasure. When she tips into orgasm, she screams my name and her body convulses.

I pull my head back and watch her coming for me, slipping my fingers out of her and rubbing her clit while she does. When her body stops shaking, I remove my t-shirt and set it aside, then move up so that I’m over her before I drop my head and kiss her deeply.

I reach under her to undo her bra, then remove it and place it aside with her underwear. Her breasts are full and glorious to behold. I take one in my mouth while I use my hand to play with the other. Heather pants for breath and makes mewling noises of pleasure.

I move up to kiss her again, and as I do, I push my cock inside her. She feels so perfect as she squeezes me with her pelvic muscles. I lift myself up and brace myself over her as I fuck her. She wraps her legs around my waist and meets my thrusts with her own. I love it, and I stare deeply into her eyes as I come inside her.

I drop onto her, my head resting on her shoulder as I try to catch my breath, with my lips resting on her salty, sweaty skin. She is amazing, and I’m in complete bliss right now. I roll to my side and kiss her again before I climb off her.

She follows me to the bathroom and says, “That was so fucking good, Harrison.”

The entire world is glowing, and I can’t even find her saying my name upsetting in any way. I’m willing to wait for her to be ready, however long that takes. If she’s calling me Harrison on my deathbed, so be it.

“It really was, angel.”

I wrap my arms around her as we stand under the warm spray of the shower. I kiss her softly, then wash her with the washcloth before cleaning myself.

We get dressed and head back to the kitchen, where we heat up the food and sit at the dining table to eat it.

The apartment that Ariana found for Heather to rent came fully furnished. Nothing here feels like Heather. It’s all sterile and uniform. Nothing is homey or has any of her warmth.

Heather talks about what’s happening with Serenity, and I tell her, “I’m so proud of you. Even with…everything that happened. You’ve done so well.”

She sighs and nods. “Yeah, it was definitely a way for me to cope. Something to focus on that wasn’t you or the fact that I didn’t have you.”

“I’m sorry, angel.” I frown at her, and guilt over everything washes over me.

I remind myself that I didn’t have a choice, which comes with its own feelings, and I sigh. I look at Heather, and while she looks concerned, she’s so beautiful that I can’t stop myself from smiling at her.

“I suppose we should talk about what this all means,” she sighs.

“What do you want it to mean?” I ask.

I’m on edge as I wait for her response. It still feels like we’re in limbo, but I think we’re a tiny bit closer to being a couple than we were before Gabriel’s birthday party. I’m no longer constantly expecting her to tell me she wants to sell our apartment, at least.

“What I want and what I need are two very different things,” she says in a somber tone.

I search her expression and frown at her. I’m not sure exactly what she means by that.

I say carefully, “I saw your comment on Instagram.”

“I know. You liked it,” she smiles.

I consider what to say next. I don’t know how to ask her the meaning behind it, so I tell her, “People are jumping to conclusions about what it means.”

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