Page 84 of Taming Georgia

Slapping skin.

Desperate whimpers.

Guttural sighs.

Sobs of pleasure.

It’s the best symphony I’ve ever heard, and it’s ours. Only ours.

Georgia collapses to the bed, facedown, after we both reach our climax. I fall atop her, my chest expanding, desperate for air.

I roll off her, throwing my forearm over my eyes, my body still humming from pleasure. Georgia scoots toward me and kisses my chest, slick with sweat.

“That was amazing,” she sighs.

“Fourth time’s the charm,” I respond, thinking about all the other ways we’ve pleased each other since getting back to my house.

We’ve worshipped each other’s bodies. We’ve reunited. We’ve made love, slow and sweet. We’ve fucked, hard and desperate. Each time amazing. Each time perfect because it is with her.

“All equally incredible,” she says. “Make-up sex is the best. We should do it more often.”

“Agreed, but can we have it without doing the shit that comes before it?”

We’re both quiet after my reference to the drama of this week.

“Do you really forgive me for leaving you?” she asks softly, laying her cheek against my chest.

“I told you that I did, and I do. I’m not perfect, Peaches…nowhere close. I’m sure I’m going to make lots of mistakes in this. You hurt me, but I forgive you. Of course I do. I love you.”

She gasps and sits up. “You said it.”

“What?” I ask, confused.

“You said you love me.”

“You know that I do.”

“But you’ve never said it out loud. Sometimes, I need to hear it.”

I sit up and place my mouth over her exposed breast, pulling her nipple between my teeth. When it releases, I say, “I love you.” I kiss the smooth skin above her collarbone. “I love you.” I place small kisses up her neck. “I love you.” I pull her earlobe between my lips and whisper in her ear, “I love you.”

I lean back, my face inches from hers. Her eyes well with tears.

“I love you, Peaches. I think I’ve loved you for a long time.”

I wrap my arms around her back and pull her down to the bed with me. She lays atop me and glides her fingers up and down my arm.

It feels so good, lying here with Georgia.

When she first showed up at the hospital room, my walls—the ones that had protected me my entire life—shot up, and I just wanted her gone. I didn’t want to feel the pain that she would inevitably bring me. I wanted to protect myself and shield my heart from more hurt. She had left me once, and I knew she could do it again. But then she started explaining, and I heard so much of myself in her words.

I know what it’s like to be afraid of losing someone you love. I know what it’s like to let fear and insecurity dictate life choices. Despite the vast differences in our upbringing, Georgia and I are more alike than I ever realized.

The second I started really internalizing her words, I knew the night would end with my lips on hers.

I truly see Georgia now—not just her perfections, but her flaws, too. And I love her even more.

When I’m scared, I put up walls and push people away. When she’s scared, she runs. Neither coping mechanism is better than the other, but they’re both forgivable.

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