Page 147 of Perfect
My body floods with warmth as I come around him, too overwhelmed by everything to do anything other than cling to him and bury my face in his neck as my body shakes. I fall apart in his arms, my vision blacking out around the edges as the most intense pleasure I’ve ever felt courses through me. I keep my hands fisted in his hair, and I hear him whisperI love youagain and again before he comes with me, his body tensing and his hips jerking, driving him deeper into me before we both go slack.
We stay there, panting hard and clinging to each other. I can feel his heart pounding through my chest, matching mine beat for beat. When we lock eyes, he looks as overwhelmed and scared as I feel.
Theo kisses me softly before he pulls out of me, holding me so closely he’s almost on top of me, his hand roaming up and down my body, his touch reverent and possessive. I tuck my face into his neck, my eyes tearing up as something I didn’t remember I’d lost slips back into place.
It takes me a minute to realize what I’m feeling, and when I do, I close my eyes and laugh a little, a few tears running down the side of my face.
“Honey, are you okay?” Theo’s quiet voice borders on panicked, and I grin up at him broadly, grazing my fingers over his cheek. He relaxes instantly, and his eyes crinkle at the corners as he beams down at me.
“I’mhappy, Theo,” I whisper, crying harder. “I’m so fuckinghappy.”
“Me, too,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss me. He wraps me in his arms and holds me as I cry, making soft shushing sounds. I cling to him, humming softly as I stroke his face, running my fingers through his hair and down his neck, dragging my fingers slowly down his arm until I can twine our fingers together.
We get to have this now. I wanted the option to choose him, and he gave it to me.
He’s mine now, and I’m his.
Everything is perfect.
44
THEO
THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 22
I might have already fucked this up.
Alex sits on the counter in my flannel with a dreamy smile as she drinks a glass of wine and watches me cut vegetables. I shouldn’t be using a knife right now because I’m so distracted, but I try to focus on the process and not on the growing ball of anxiety in my chest.
I pause what I’m doing and look over at the angel sitting on my counter, her dark hair in a messy high ponytail, her freckled cheeks flushed, her light brown eyes soft and adoring as she looks at me, her kiss-swollen lips curved in a happy, satisfied smile. I’veneverseen Alex happy like this, and it’s hard to believe it’s because of me.
I only make her this happy because she has no idea I’m lying to her.
I’ve been doingalmosteverything she asked of me, and it’s all been making me fucking miserable. I have mostly kept myself from stalking her since we came back from Yachats, which has been excruciating. I have begrudgingly been trying to internalize what I’m learning in therapy, which makes me fucking hate myself. I’ve been dating her in a way that makes me want to tear my hair out because I’m only getting a fraction of what I want from her at any given time.
The only thing I haven’t done is be totally honest with her.
I keep thinking about the tracker, and how she only wants to be here because she doesn’t know about it. We’reactuallytogether now, and I think she just tried to tell me she loves me, but only because she doesn’t know I put a tracker in her and I’m stilltechnicallystalking her a little bit, even though I’m trying hard not to.
“Fuck!” I pull my hand back, my finger gushing blood from where I’ve accidentally sliced it open. Alex makes a small yelp and hops off the counter, running into the bathroom for the first aid kit. I run my finger under the faucet, washing the blood off and examining it while I get my thoughts back under control. Alex hurries back into the room, flipping through the first aid kit for ointment and bandages before she starts tending to the cut.
“This seems familiar, right?” she asks with a sly smirk as she carefully dries my hand and dabs ointment on the cut. I laugh, resting my other hand on the small of her back and pulling her into me.
“Somehow,I’mstill the one getting threatened with knives.” She giggles, wrapping the bandage tight and kissing my finger softly. She looks up at me, her eyes brimming with adoration, and it feels like I’m in a dream.
Why am I so worried? Now that we’re together, I can remove the tracker, which will fix everything.
Everything is fine.
Alex loves me.
At least, I’malmostpositive she loves me. I’m not entirely sure, and I need to know. I’m supposed to be asking, checking in, making sure, seeing if what I think is realisreal, especially with her.
“Um, I need to ask you something, like earlier. I suck at reality with you, supposedly.” She laughs as she hops up on the counter, sipping her wine again. “You want to be here, right? That’s real?” I look at her, and she nods. “Words, please, honey.” She smiles, slightly amused.
“I want to be here. That’s real.” She’s not lying.
“You really want to do this? You want to be in a relationship with me, even though you think you shouldn’t be? Is that seriously real?” She smiles, nodding again, sipping her wine.
