chapter thirty-four
WHEN WE RETURN to our apartment, Trevor presents me with something unexpected. A shoe box.
“What is this?” I ask.
He stands next to me at the kitchen island, teetering on the balls of his feet, nervous. “Look inside.”
When I open the lid, he’s behind me, his strong hands steadying me around the waist as my knees buckle.
The gasp I emit is embarrassing. The first item I pull out is a crumpled McDonald’s receipt for a Big Mac and Quarter Pounder combo. From the night he took me out for food after my disastrous date with Segway Jeff.
“You kept this?” I ask, misty eyes catching his gaze over my shoulder.
He presses a soft kiss on my temple. “Yup.”
“Why?”
“You said your parents’ first date was at McDonald’s. I guess I thought you might like it one day.”
A burning match strikes in my stomach as I examine the folded-up, empty bag of BBQ chips from the first night we watched The Bachelor together, as well as a handwritten note with the cupcake recipe we made.
“But . . . this means . . .” I start, breathless as the admission takes hold in my gut. I don’t think I can even muster the words to explain what this means to me. It’s not just words. It’s physical proof. “You really did have feelings for me . . . even back then.”
“From day one. From the moment I heard your voice behind that bathroom door. I told you,” he says as I pull out a drink menu from the bottom of the box. It’s the drink menu from Mamma Maria’s.
“I can’t believe you stole this.” This isn’t your average disposable paper menu. It’s encased in leather. Wheezy laughter escapes me as I hold it up, assessing its weight. “You hate keeping junk.”
“Yup. That box has been killing me,” he admits. “I keep it under my bed where I can’t see it. Out of sight, out of mind.”
I run my finger along the rim of the box. “I’m keeping this forever. You know that, right? It must be displayed prominently behind protective glass.”
“Wouldn’t expect anything less.” He spins me around to face him, pulling me flush to his hard chest. “Now can we finally dispose of that Ex-Files box?”
“Hell to the yes.” I laugh, already spinning on my heel to grab it from my room, eager to put the past behind me.
• • •
THE VAPOR FROM my breath coils into the night air as I set my bare feet onto the snow-covered deck.
We toss our towels over the banister. I’ve selected my favorite pale-blue bikini with a little fabric bow tying the front together. Trevor dips in first, his gaze blazing a trail from my face all the way down to my toes. His throat ripples as I follow him into the scalding water without hesitation.
“I’m really going to miss that Flynn Rider vest.” I faux-pout as he extends his hand, tugging me closer.
He smirks. “I mean, I’m not super into role-playing, but I’m willing to make an exception.”
I mock shock. “Oh really?”
“Anything for my girlfriend.” His eyes widen, as if he’s caught himself in an embarrassing mistake. “Unless you don’t want an official label, though I assume you do—”
“Oh, I want the label,” I assure him. “But on two conditions.” I hold him at arm’s length, my palm flat against his chest, glistening with water. After everything, I decide to set some ground rules.
He indulges me, nodding respectfully. “All right. Hit me with them.”
I hold up my index finger. “One, you won’t wimp out when I’m being extra. If I do or say anything that freaks you out, you’ll be mature. You’ll talk to me like an adult before running scared and avoiding conversation.”
He sets both hands on my waist, his mouth slanted in a smile. “Just so you know, I love you most when you’re being extra. It’s a massive turn-on.” He pauses, absorbing my serious expression. “And you can say whatever is on your mind, at all times, without worrying about whether you’re too much. Because you’re not too much. Ever. Okay? And I swear I’ll talk to you first about anything that’s bothering me. Anything we can’t resolve, we’ll go to therapy. We’ll work it out in a healthy way.”
“Deal.”
“What’s the second one?” he asks, pulling me closer. He’s mere inches from me, and I’m losing my resolve. He knows it too, based on his knowing brow raise.
I fight to maintain my stern look by staring at the condensation flecking his lashes. “As my official boyfriend, you’d have to promise to hold my hand every ten minutes.” My straight face doesn’t last long before both our chests are heaving in silent amusement. “And you have to make a regular habit of kissing me in public. I want all the PDA.”
“I think I can manage that.” His deep laugh echoes into the void of the night around us. He studies my face for a moment, tracing my cheek with the back of his knuckle.
“You better,” I warn.
He smiles, pressing his free hand to my chest, over my wildly hammering heart, audible to me even over the rumble of the jets. “Your heart is beating so fast.”
I panic for a split second, willing it into a steady drum—the heartbeat of a calm, sane person. And as usual, my emotion trumps my logic.
It’s like the floodgates of happiness I’ve chased my entire life have unleashed and I’m ready and willing to drown in it.
He tugs me closer to him, pressing another trail of kisses around the edge of my lips as he hoists me up, wrapping my legs around his waist. He backs us up through the water, lowering himself onto the seat. I’m clinging to him like a spider monkey, straddling his lap, one hand in his hair, the other around his neck, pressing and pulling.
He drags his teeth over my skin. His tongue does something magical to the smooth skin below my ear, all while he’s running the tips of his fingers down my back at an agonizingly slow pace, stopping at the waist of my bikini bottoms. His right thumb slips under the band, inching along the seam toward the front, exploring the sensitive area where my upper thigh meets my hip.
When I arch myself against him, he lets out a string of garbled curse words, desire radiating in his eyes.
“What if someone catches us?” I whisper. “Like Gerald.”
“Please don’t remind me of Gerald when I’m hard.” He squeezes his eyes shut for a second before lifting his chin toward the door. “And I put the broom in the door. It’s locked.”
The words have barely escaped his lips before he’s unhooked my top, shamelessly tossing it over the side of the hot tub.
He bends down slightly, his tongue sliding against the undersides of my breasts. Both of them receive their fair share of attention and lavish compliments before his fingers travel back to my bikini bottoms.
He isn’t gentle when he tugs, signaling he wants them off. And quick. We stand frantically to remove our bathing suit bottoms, only feeling whole again when I settle back over him, skin to skin. He sucks on my bottom lip as he circles me with his thumb, testing. When his swipe nearly ends me, he slows the pace.
The jet underneath us hits me with the perfect amount of pressure, pulsing exactly where I want it.
“Did you know every second we were in this hot tub together before was torture?” he whispers against my neck. “All I wanted to do was—”
“What did you want to do to me in here?”
His eyes darken as he smooths his thumb where I want it, keeping his touch light as he shifts my leg over. “This. I’d spread your legs apart.”
At my shudder, he groans, sliding another finger in. “You’d be dripping all over my hand, just like this. And I’d fuck you harder and deeper until you were begging for me.”
I shudder at his words in my ear, doubling the pleasure of his hand. “Oh God. That feels so good.”
“Fuck, I’m never going to let you go.” His voice is strained in my ear as his pace picks up.
I angle a brow at him. “Now who’s the possessive one? I never would have guessed.”
“Only when it comes to you.” He looks pleased with himself as I buck against his hand, relishing the control he has over me.
“Well, good luck ever trying to leave me now that I’ve sunk my claws in,” I manage.
“True. I’d be a fool to ever leave you. Who knows what kind of messed-up shit you’d do to my car.”
I pretend to smack him in the shoulder.
“Seriously, though. I love that you’re mine,” he tells me, eliciting a single tear from beneath my lid. He presses a soft kiss over it, absorbing it. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” he whispers.
Seconds away from losing all control, I nod, unable to stop my grin as the emotion rolls over me. “I’m just . . . happy.”
“Even if you’re not getting your second-chance romance?”
“Trevor, you are a million times better than any trope I could ever dream up.”
He meets my smile, and I swear his entire face lights up brighter than Times Square. He presses his lips to mine, sealing my declaration. And when he tells me to come for him, his voice pushes me over the edge, free-falling into oblivion without fear or hesitation.
He holds one hand over my mouth as I cry out, inner walls pulsing. I unravel in his lap, blinded by a white sheet of stars.
“Still good?” he asks, kissing my temple.
I respond with a gentle scrape up his back and shoulders.
“Good. I need you so badly right now.” He taps me on the bottom, gently lifting me off his lap. He leans over the side of the tub, fishing in the pockets of his sweatpants hanging over the railing. He locates his wallet, pulling out a condom. I watch as he unpackages it and slips it over himself.
All is right again when he lifts me back onto his lap and eases me onto him, stretching me completely, inch by inch. His gaze fills with the unspoken tenderness and affection I’ve wanted for so long. Now there’s no barrier. No wall. Nothing stopping me from venturing forward. He’s letting me in. Completely.
I move against him, taking more and more of him. My body tingles as I anchor myself to him with abandon, the part of him I’ve only seen glimpses of over the past four months. The part of him he’s never wanted me to see. I’m struck by the realization that he’s giving himself to me. His whole self.
His head drops back as I take all of him. A visible shudder rolls through his shoulders, his low groan vibrating across my throat. His breath hitches, and he holds me still for a few beats, eye contact unbreaking.
“Are you okay?”
“If you move an inch, this is going to be embarrassing for everyone involved. Mainly me.”
I shift slightly, and he makes a pained face. “You look like you’re about to perish.”
“I might. But I’ll die the happiest I’ve ever been.”
Our foreheads touch as we laugh, managing to stay as still as possible. After a few long breaths, he loosens his grip around my lower hips. I ride him slowly at first, speeding up in pace with his enthusiasm, meeting his lips with frantic kisses. He switches his attention between my breasts and my mouth, unsure which way to go as he grips my ass, pressing hard into my flesh under the water.
With one swift movement, he lifts me and turns me outward, toward the city. “Do you want to go inside?” he whispers from behind.
“No. Why would I?”
“Thought you didn’t like water sex.”
I peek at him over my shoulder. “I’ve never actually tried it.” When the admission rolls off my tongue, his eyes blaze.
“First time in the water, huh? Then I better make it good for you,” he says, pulling my hips to grind me to him before placing my hand on the side of the tub. “Hold on tight.”
He anchors his knee on the bench as he positions himself to enter me with a powerful thrust that takes me to a parallel universe of pure bliss. Each movement plunges me deeper and deeper into an alternate dimension where the city skyline glitters like a sea of gold and diamonds. Where the wintery smell of the outdoors is like a burst of new life. For the first time, I realize my real life is ten times better than any romance book.
He’s slowed down now to focus on me and my every reaction. He’s gripping me tight as he moves in and out of me, reviving me every single time. Our breath matches, and soon so do our moans. It’s like we’ve melted into each other. Absorbing each other’s every sensation.
And then the crash hits me unexpectedly, even more intense than the first. My cry urges him on as he rocks into me faster and harder. “Look at me,” he demands, turning my face toward him. Our gazes lock as he shudders over me with a groan that vibrates to my core, holding me tighter than anyone ever has. “I’m yours. Okay?”
“I love you.” He presses a lingering kiss to my neck, sealing everything I’ve ever wanted.
Someone who wants me exactly as I am.
LIVE WITH TARAROMANCEQUEEN—ROOM-ANCE
[Tara appears on camera in front of an overflowing bookshelf.]
EXCERPT FROM TRANSCRIPT
TARA: Hello, romance book lovers, welcome back to my channel. I’m hopping on here really quick today to discuss a topic that has been requested relentlessly. And that is forced proximity and room-ances.
Forced-proximity tropes are like catnip. They can take place on road trips, confined to small cars. Workplaces. And the delicious “only one bed” trope. But my personal favorite take on forced proximity is room-ances.
The thing with living with your love interest is that they’ll see you at your weakest moments. Late at night when you have no more shits to give. When you take your makeup and bra off. When you’re flat-out done with life. The most fun room-ances are those accidental nudity moments, where Person A decides it’s a good idea to be naked in the common area and Person B just so happens to walk by at that very moment.
One of the reasons it’s my absolute favorite is . . . well, it happened to me.
[Trevor appears in the frame, albeit begrudgingly. He plants a chaste yet loving kiss on Tara’s temple and peaces out.]