Page 40 of Unloved

With only instinct and the steady beat of my heart to guide me, I tilt my head to the side and move my mouth to his. Nobody knows me better than Lennox, but with his soft lips on my cautious ones, everything between us now is brand new.

Slow and deliberate, our mouths move at the perfect pace. We aren’t making up for lost time and we aren’t rushing into the future. We are, for once, living in this singular moment and relishing in it.

There is no rejection.

There is no accident.

There is no uncertainty.

Boldly, his tongue slips between my lips as his hand slides around to the small of my back. He brings me closer, every inch of me shamelessly hard now and pressed against him. The kiss deepens, and my tongue tangles with his. We’re in complete sync, stroke for stroke, every one of my remaining secrets now his to keep.

The kiss gets slower and softer until we’re nothing more than breaths of air in a quiet room.

“Sammy. Sammy. Sammy,” he says softly.

I press my forehead against his and run my thumb across his lips, my touch leaving a small smile in its wake. Reluctantly, I drop my hands from his face and sit back down on the bed. Finding my phone, I pull up our text messages, the thread that’s only between the two of us, the one we haven’t used since meeting Rhys.

Reaching for him, I hold his hand and tug him to sit beside me, not wanting any distance between us, not anymore. I type my first message, needing to say so much to him, but certain even without the words he already knows.

Me: I love when you say my name like that.

He looks up at me after reading, eyes shining, bottom lip trapped between his teeth. “Tell me why.”

I bring the cell to my mouth, wanting to keep my eyes on him for as long as possible.

“I love that onlyyousay my name that way,” I say into the speaker. “Like I’m yours.”

I press send on the message, my body shaking with anxiety. I did not intend for any of this to happen, but I won’t take it back unless he wants me to.

“Are you?” he asks. “Mine?”

I speak my truth into the phone and send it. “I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”

It’s not about labels, exclusivity, or propriety. For us, timing was everything, and I want him to know the way I feel about him is unconditional. I have no expectations on what this is supposed to look like or how we’re supposed to be.

Leaning forward, he curls his arm around my neck and brings me to him. “I want to be able to do this”—he presses his lips to mine—“anytime I want.”

I kiss him again, quick but firm, so he knows I have absolutely no issues with his request.

“We should go to sleep,” he says. “I agreed to stay here so you’d get a few extra hours of rest.”

At the mention of sleep, I’m reminded exactly how and why we ended up here. My cell is between us now, Lennox’s arm still around my neck, both of us looking down at the screen as I type.

I don’t know which words will make what I have to say make the most sense, but I know, for both Lennox’s and my sake, and the trust we’re building between us, I have to say something.

Me: I can swap with him, if you’re worried about him sleeping alone.

He gives his head a shake but doesn’t look away from the screen. So I probe a little further.

Me: Do you want him in here? With us?

Lennox’s whole body stills, and when he still doesn’t look up at me, I place two fingers under his chin and coax him to look at me.

His eyes are filled with fear and worry, as if he’s confessing his greatest sin. “What does it mean if I say yes?”

I shrug but am quick to text him.

Me: What does it mean if I say yes?

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