Page 87 of It's Always Been You
I shrug, hoping it looks casual. “Don’t want rotted wood, you know?” I say, like I have any fucking clue what I’m talking about. I’m good at a lot of things, but home ownership related stuff fallsdirectly into the category ofI’m super glad I can pay someone else to deal with it.
Molly gives me ayou’re full of shitexpression, and I’m wondering if she’ll press the issue and force me to come up with something on the fly. I suck at coming up with lies on the fly. Lies in general, really. But what comes out of her mouth next makes me wish she had asked more about the garage.
“Speaking of your assistant, what’s going on with my house? I have to say, as someone who is used to doing things on her own, it’s really weird to have just delegated this entire thing to a stranger and not needed to do anything except choose paint colors.”
I take another sip of my beer to wet my suddenly dry throat. “Uh, so they’re just finishing up, actually. You should be able to get back in by the end of the week.”
I stop talking and study her reaction, biting my cheek to keep myself from opening my mouth and assaulting her with every thought in my head.
You belong here.
I don’t want you to go.
Stay right here with me.
Let’s make this house a home.
Molly studies me for a long moment. Anxiety hums under my skin as I think about her going back to her house. Us living in separate places. Going to sleep at night without her next to me. Waking up without her in the morning. No more quiet mornings with peppermint mochas and halves of muffins and kissing her goodbye as she leaves for work and I head to my home office to work on whatever project I have going. It’s possible I’m being just a touch dramatic, but I just got her back, and I don’t want her anywhere but here.
Molly reaches out and lays a hand over mine, squeezing gently. “I was thinking maybe I would stay here, even once my house is finished.”
Relief floods me so hard and fast that I have to work to keep my expression neutral and my voice even. “Oh, yeah?”
She shrugs and picks her fork back up again. “I like it here. You’re a really good cook, and you bring me muffins in the morning. It’s easier to have all the orgasms when we’re in close proximity, and you like it when I dump Reese’s Pieces in the popcorn. Also, you don’t seem to mind when I leave stuff everywhere and get a little chaotic.”
“Your chaos is my favorite thing, and I love your stuff everywhere.”
“No one else ever has,” she mumbles, and the touch of defeat in her tone has all my senses on high alert. It’s so unlike her.
“Hey,” I say, reaching across the table to take both her hands in mine. “I don’t want your stuff anywhere but here. As a matter of fact, let’s go get all the rest of your stuff right now and put it everywhere. I was thinking when you walked in earlier tonight that I love seeing your things all mixed up with mine. It reminds me that you’re here and this,” I motion between us, “is real. I’ve waited a long time to get you back, Rory, and there isn’t one single part of you that I don’t love madly.”
Molly blows out a breath, her expression clearing. “I was kidding, you know, about the cooking and the muffins and the orgasms and everything. I mean, don’t get me wrong; I love those things, so please don’t stop doing them. Especially the orgasms because, let’s be honest, that’s one area where you really excel.”
She gives me an exaggerated wink and we both laugh.
“But really, I just like being here with you. Coming home to you and having this time at the end of the day, staying up late watching superhero movies, stumbling to bed together in themiddle of the night, waking up with you in the morning. Just, being together this way, every day. It feels…”
“Right,” I say, squeezing her hands. “It feels right.”
Molly looks down at our joined hands, her gaze landing on the engagement ring she wears. When she looks back up at me, her expression is uncharacteristically serious. “This living together situation may have started because of a tree on my roof and an accidental fake engagement, but nothing about this is for convenience and nothing about this is fake. The way I love you is huge and very, very real.”
I didn’t realize how badly I needed to hear those words from her. I pull Molly’s chair closer to mine and wrap an arm around her, putting my other hand on her cheek to turn her face to mine. I lean in and kiss her, pouring everything I feel into it. The relief, the joy. The love. God, the love. It just fills every single part of me, lights me up, makes me feel like I can do anything in the entire world because she loves me, and I get to love her back.
When we break apart, I kiss her forehead and pull back so I can look at her. “Let’s move your stuff into my room right now. Separate bedrooms are no longer necessary.”
Last night when we got back from California, we tumbled into my bed together without thinking about it, and I’m sure we would have done the same thing tonight. But I want to make it official.
“Bet your ass,” she says, leaning in to kiss me again. “Can I turn the other bedroom into a closet? I’m pretty sure a bedroom-sized closet is exactly what I need in my life. And let’s be honest, your closet is…lacking.”
I lean in to kiss her neck. “I’ll get my assistant right on it.”
Molly snuggles deeper into me. “I think I’m going to like living with you. You were totally freaking out about telling me my house was done, weren’t you?”
I laugh, pulling her as close to me as she can get. “Rory, you have no idea.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Molly
