Page 177 of Falling Backwards
Still would.Anytime.In any situation.
There’s not much I wouldn’t do to show her how serious I am about her.
The deep truth of that does something warm to my chest.
Just like seeing her did—goddamn, seeing her at the door in the middle of the night after the day we’d had together and apart, with everything on my mind…yeah, it did a number on my chest.Then being let into the apartment, walked to her room, closed in, looked at so open-heartedly with those eyes….
I had to kiss her.I had to do it better than I did at the park, better than on my couch—better than I ever have.There was no resisting that just like there was no resisting being honest with her.
And shedidn’tshoot me down.Didn’t push me away or hesitate.She just gave every single bit of it back to me; she kissed me, embraced me, agreed with me, said yes to me.
Now we’re here.
We didn’t touch the past, which I’ve decided is okay.We’vedecided it’s okay.Some part of me has been wondering if we need to talk about it just to try to really get over it—God knows I’m as sorry now for what I did as I ever was, and maybe she…you know, maybe she’s sorry too…but maybe she’s still hurt and she doesn’t want to discuss it and that’s why she agreed to leaving it all behind.If things look good from here without us reopening those wounds, then why bother?We don’t want to end up ruining this with all that.We want to hold on to this.
I can’t wait to hold on to her.Can’t wait for her to hold on to me.
Momentarily, I think back to Kyle and how I also can’t wait to see if he leaves her alone.I hope I didn’t fuck things up worse by saying what I said—and yet I knew I couldn’t keep any of it in.In spite of the logical things I knew about handling the situation, it felt so much like the way to take care of her in those moments was to make clear to that guy that he needs to give up on her before he pisses me off past the point of return.
Part of me feels stupid about it.
The rest of me, though…the rest of me remembers the look that came to his face.His remorse was genuine, as was his aversion to things escalating the way I promised they will if he doesn’t go away.He said he doesn’t want trouble and…honestly, I believed him.Still do.
Maybe we really have seen the last of him.
Maybe the thing that brought me and Maggie back together is gone and now there’s nothing for us to think aboutbutus.
I’m optimistic.
At last, I roll to face her.I sluggishly seek out one of her hands beneath the blanket, enclose it in mine, and shut my eyes again.
Mmm.Comfortable.
More than comfortable, truth be told.Falling asleep alone the night before last was worse than I expected.I missed having her beside me.Missed how she felt, how her breathing sounded.And God knows I couldn’t get my many desires for her out of my head—I couldn’t stop wishing I could kiss her again, touch her, make her laugh more, and…
…well, I shouldn’t think about the rest of that stuff right now, for more than one reason, not the least of which is that I can hear one of her friends starting to bang around in the kitchen.
I guess she picks up on that, too, because she suddenly takes a swifter breath and starts stirring.
But I reopen my eyes and find that before she even tries to open hers, she notices I’m holding her hand and lazily flexes her fingers around it.A soft, sleepy smile touches her lips.
It makes me smile, too, before I lightly shift closer to her, slowly lean my face to hers, alert her without words that I can’t keep my own lips to myself.Can’t care about a little morning breath or her nearby friend or whatever time it is.
I kiss her, and like the other morning, she kisses me right back.Doesn’t interrupt us with another gasp of shock, though.Just lets her mouth move with mine in the sweetest, most languid way.
I remember my tongue delving past those soft lips last night, remember the way it felt for her to hold on to me as tightly as I was holding on to her.Everything I gave to her, she gave right back to me.
The tentative arch of her against me has me registering that I’ve stopped holding her hand and started slipping mine down her back.I find bare skin because the bottom of her shirt is twisted up some, and now we do take a quick breath out of our kiss—her body comes towards mine even more, instinctive and soft…she’ssodamn soft and warm.I pull her in even more, shift even closer, silently beg her to mold to me and melt me and make even more of an addict out of me.
And she does, with her palm fitting to the side of my neck and then slipping up into the back of my hair, her lips meeting me again, her leg grazing mine like she wants to drape it over.All of it makes my pulse skip hard, but the dips and curves and lines of our bodies coming together doesn’t change these new kisses we share; they’re still slow and sweet.They’re savoring.
So is my hand as it drifts up just under the back of her twisted shirt, then over her waist and stom—
She makes a quiet noise and recoils a little bit.Her lips leave mine and her hand leaves my hair for my shoulder.
Worry and regret hit me hard.
I break our silence with a scratchily murmured, “I’m sorry.”I fumble to tug at her shirt and cover her bared skin with it.“Hey, I’m sorry.I’m not trying to, uh, rush or….I just….But I should’ve asked before I….”
