Page 59 of Afterglow
“It’s a valid fear, but that’s not going to happen,” he assures, pushing back the damp hairs stuck to my face with tears.
“It’s a goddamn mess. I’m a mess.”
“You’re not a mess.”
I peek up at him, tears sitting on my lashes and snot streaming onto my lips, and move my head around my disgustingly messy room.
He huffs out a laugh. “Okay, you’re a little bit of a mess. But you’remymess, and I don’t mind it one bit.” Fletcher thumbs a fresh tear away. “It’s gonna be better this time. You have accommodations and more professional and academic support than before.”
I agree with a slow series of nods.
“And I’m here, too.”
“What if you get tired? Gabe and Indi have no clue, and they have enough responsibilities in their lives. They have jobs andfamilies and partners, and how much can they do anyway? I’m too much to take care of. My own parents don’t want to deal with?—”
“Behraz.” He silences me with a finger to my lips. “You’re not too much.” I accept the kisses he plants on my eyelids. “Getting to take care of you is my favorite thing.”
I shed a few more tears at his devotion, letting him baby me until I’m calm. My tears soak the collar of his tee.
“God, I’ve been rambling for, like, hours now. You must be so over it.”
“Why would I be?”
“Because I’m annoying, I just yap, yap, yap, on and on and on…”
“Someone said that to you?”
I shake out a weak shrug.
“Talk all you want, gorgeous.” Fletcher dips down, pressing his lips against the curve of my ear. “Your voice makes my dick wet.”
A cackle escapes me. I’ll never get over this shy man’s dirty talk. “Fletcher.” My hands cup his face as I tease a kiss from his velvety lips. This man has seen all my nasty, ugly, messy parts and still acts like he’s the lucky one for being stuck with me. “I’m not convinced I’m any good for you, but I want you to know” —I tap our foreheads together— “I’m really, really stupidly in love with you.”
Fletcher beams against my mouth, gushing out a minty breath. “I love you,” he says softly, sharing a secret that’s meant only for me. “I wasn’t living before you. Simply surviving. You nearly killing me with your bike…” He pecks the tip of my nose and the apple of each cheek. “You brought me to life, Bea. When I say I’ve been obsessed with you for years…” He shakes his head. “I know it’s pathetic, but I don’t care. I’m pathetic when itcomes to you. Do you remember going to a club called Persepolis with your friends?”
My eyes widen with recognition, parting my mouth with a gasp.
“I saw you. It was the drunkest I’ve ever been, and I didn’t have the guts to come up to you, despite my friends’ best efforts.” His fingers loop through mine, shifting his focus between us. “You were—you are—literal sunshine in the dark cloud of my sad little existence. The way you laugh?”
“Like a witch?”
He rejects the suggestion. “Like you’re free. Free to be happy, to live life on your own terms. And your smile?” It widens with the praise. He exhales with a low whine. “You’re the brightest star in my sky.”
“Why are you so sweet to me?”
“Because you don’t deserve anything less. I’ve watched you—admired you from afar for so long. Saw how you’re a loyal, supportive, protective friend. Your determination, like nothing is too big a challenge or too serious not to laugh through. You’re all the things I have no idea how to be. You make people feel welcome, like they belong with you. And you fit in, in any place, get along with anyone you meet. You could’ve had anyone, and you chose me?” He huffs out a laugh. “Most days, I can’t wrap my head around it. I can hardly believe that you’re…mine.”
It’s the first time he’s said it. No one else has said it before. The next few tears that escape from the corners of my eyes warm my soul. “Say it again.”
“You’re mine.” He fixes his gaze on mine, brimming with unadulterated adoration.
“I love being yours.”
“Can I be yours?” he asks. “It’s all I want, Bea.”
I nod against him, keeping our faces slotted together. “It’s all I want, too. You’re all mine.”
His hold tightens, secure and persistent.
