Page 131 of Just My Type of wrong guy

“Nothing, I already said I don’t want to rush things,” he counters, as if that explains everything.

And as if any second naked in front of me wouldn’t get me pregnant with triplets.

“Well, then stop kissing me like that.” I cross my arms, frustrated.

But he laughs slyly and pulls me closer by the belt loop, pressing our hips together and lowering his mouth to my ear.

“Can’t I kiss my girl anymore?”

Even hairs I didn’t know I had stood on end when he uses the possessive pronoun with me, but I pretend I’m mad.

“Not like this.” I pull his hand off me and take a step back. “It’s like the saying goes: if you’re not going toeatme, don’tseasonme,” I snap, and his jaw drops before he pulls me back to him, laughing in the curve of my neck.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” His hair falls over my face, his sweet scent fills the room, and I feel my knees give out.

“Anthony, I think I lied. I think I really want to be seasoned,” I confess, and He goes from a smiling boy to a six-foot-tall, man-shaped serotonin boost in seconds. A.J. throws me onto the couch and lies on top of me, giving me the best kisses I’ve ever had in my life.

***

A few make-out sessions, a shower, and a nightgown later, I return to the living room to watch a movie. Even though it’s almost four in the morning, neither of us is ready to say goodbye, and since my human labrador decided to go celibate, this is the only way.

“Come here,” A.J. calls, and only then do I see him in the kitchen. With his arms wide open, ready to welcome me.

I run to him, almost not recognizing myself. But I take a deep breath and calm down in his embrace. Maybe I’m in love.

And it’s good to be in love.

“We need to talk,” he says, crushing my dreams.

“You don’t need to. What words are these? We’ve literally been together for two days.”

A.J. pulls away just enough to look at me.

“What?”

“People say ‘we need to talk’ to announce a pregnancy or a breakup, did you know that?”

“Hmm... So your fear...” He holds my chin, pulling me closer, but doesn’t kiss me. “Is that I want to...” I kiss him, because it’s too good to feel his lips.

“I’m not afraid of you breaking up with me, you wouldn’t wait all this time to dump me at the first chance.” I shrug and move away, sitting on the stool to the right of the island. “I just didn’t like the choice of words.”

“I was going to ask if you were afraid I was pregnant, but it’s fine,” he teases, making me laugh as he sits next to me. “I’ll be direct then, so I don’t make you nervous and stuff…”

“You’re already making me nervous.”

“What do you remember from that night?”

Funny how this question, which a week ago would have made my heart race with desperation, today is just... a question about a day I really don’t remember, but it no longer scares me. All the fears I might’ve had about me and A.J. hooking up became reality, and are the happiest parts of my present.

“I remember us talking, drinking, talking about our families and our messed-up relationships with them. Then there was the Big D. thing, of course. Then we went to the kitchen to get more drinks, and you said you wanted me to talk about my mom...” I swallow hard, because this is a vivid and sweet memory.

My heart raced at that moment, because all I wanted was to be able to talk about who Tereza was, what she loved, how she took care of me... that makes me happy and keeps me thinking about parts of her I’m afraid to forget.

“I remember…” A.J. pulls me from my thoughts.

“You remembered?”

“No. Not everything. But I remember you cried, saying that sometimes you think of her, and it’s not her face, it’s the face you saw in a photo. That Tereza used to smile, and her eyes formed three little wrinkles, which you don’t visualize anymore when you think of her.” A.J. swallows hard, looking away.

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