Page 95 of It's Always Been You
I know Molly better than I know myself. I know why she’s quiet tonight. She’s grieving her friend, but it’s more than that. There is something about tonight she’s still working on in her head, and I can only hope she’ll tell me when she’s ready. In the meantime, I swore I would give her whatever she needed, and I meant it.
“Anything, Rory. I mean it. Whatever you want. Whatever you need. I’m here.”
I guide her to bed, climbing in and holding back the covers so she can slide in next to me. I cocoon us both in the blankets and Molly wraps herself around me immediately, a leg over mine, an arm around my middle, her face pressed to my shoulder.
“I forgot to text my friends,” is the first thing she says.
I turn onto my side so I can wrap both my arms around her. “I texted Emma while I was waiting for you earlier. I told her I came to get you and that I would bring you to them if that’s what you wanted, or I’d take you home if you preferred. Either way, I told her you wouldn’t be alone. They know you’re safe, and they are too.”
“I love you,” she whispers against my shoulder. “I don’t deserve any of this. You taking care of me this way.”
“Rory,” I whisper, skimming my lips over her cheek, tightening my arms around her. “You deserve the world. Youonce told me you promised to love me the way I deserved to be loved. Well, I promise you the same. This is how you deserve to be loved. With care and tenderness and patience and deep devotion and with my whole entire heart. I can’t do anything but love you. All I want is to take care of you. To give you what you need. To keep you happy and safe and mine. Because that’s what you are. You’re mine. And I take care of what’s mine.”
“Yours.” Molly says the word quietly, as if testing it out again. Making sure that it’s still true, even after everything she’s been through tonight. With everything she’s trying to work out in her head.
“Yes. Mine. And I’m yours. Let me show you, Rory. Let me do for you now what I know you would have done for me ten years ago if I hadn’t walked out on us when my parents died. Let me show you all the promises I’ve already made to you. Everything I promise we’ll be to each other and for each other for the rest of our lives. My arms are around you now, and they’ll be around you forever. I swear it. Everything about you is gorgeous. You are a masterpiece, Rory, and I will spend every second of every day making sure you believe it.”
Molly rolls onto her back, pulling me with her until I’m settled on top of her, between her spread legs, propped up on my forearms beside her head. She reaches up and pushes the damp hair off my face, skimming her fingers down my jaw, my neck, over my collarbone and down my torso, coming to rest on my hip. Her fingers draw circles over my skin, little licks of fire.
“Show me right now, Gabe. Please.” The desperation is back in her voice, and I want so badly to chase it away. To show her she’s perfect. That she deserves everything.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. Fuck me, Gabe. Now. Make me feel alive.”
I lean down and lay my lips on hers, kissing her slow and deep, tongues lazily tangling, holding back when I can feel Mollytrying to take control. To turn this into something other than what it needs to be. When I break the kiss, I press up and lock my eyes with hers.
“No, baby. If you want me, you can have me. Always. Any way you want. But right now, I’m going to make love to you. Cherish you.”
I reach down with one hand and swipe a finger through her slit, finding her already wet for me.
“I want to show you how much I love you. Your brain, your body, your heart. Your fierceness and your loyalty. Your kindness and your compassion. Every single thing that makes you the Molly Jenkins I fell in love with when we were eighteen. The woman I haven’t stopped loving for one single day since then. Let me show you, Rory. Here, in the bed we share, where we get to go to sleep together and wake up together for the rest of our lives. Let me love you right here. The way you deserve to be loved.”
“Yes,” she whispers, wrapping her arms around me and tugging me down flush against her, my erection resting between us. “Please. Show me.”
I pull one of Molly’s legs up to rest on my hip and grip the base of my cock, guiding myself toward her entrance. I push inside her body slowly, achingly slowly, as our moans mingle in the dark quiet of the bedroom. And when I bottom out, staring into Molly’s pleasure-filled eyes, my body almost aches with the rightness of it all. Of the belonging. Of two bodies, two hearts, two souls exactly where they are supposed to be.
Taking one of Molly’s hands in mine, I lace our fingers together and pull our joined hands above her head, pressing them into the pillow. She wraps her legs around my waist, and I start to move, slowly at first. A rock of my hips, the rising of hers. My free hand roving her body, touching everywhere I can reach, feeling like I can’t possibly touch enough, finally coming to reston her cheek, keeping our eyes locked. We move together, giving and taking, and I whisperI love youandYou’re perfectandStay with meandForever.
I drop my head and seal my mouth to hers as our bodies roll in sync, our rhythm picking up as Molly gasps into my mouth and heat unfurls at the base of my spine. We come together, tumbling over the edge at the same time with lips locked and bodies moving and hearts wide open. It’s a holy moment of magic and worship and deep, abiding love. An anchor for what will certainly be rough days and weeks ahead.
“Gabe,” Molly says, voice quiet.
“I know, baby. Me too,” I say, smoothing the damp hair away from her face, staring into her eyes, feeling a love so enormous it shouldn’t be survivable.
We stay like that for a while, bodies joined, hands roving, eyes searching. Then I get up and get a warm washcloth, swiping gently between Molly’s legs to clean her up. Helping her sit up to drink more water. Then, finally, bundling her back under the covers and wrapping both my arms around her, gathering her close and watching over her as she drops into a fitful sleep.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Molly
The room is still dark when I wake up. Or maybe it’s dark again. My body is heavy with exhaustion and something else I can’t quite name, and I don’t know if I’ve been asleep for five minutes or five years. My head aches, and every muscle feels coiled tight. For one brief, panic-filled moment, I don’t know how I got here. Then last night comes back to me in flashes.
Running late.
Police outside the hospital.
A quiet ER.
