Ann Aguirre - I Want It That Way

Ty plucked the heart out and cupped it in his hands, as if it was a butterfly that might soar away on the night wind. “Why this? Why now?”

“Can I come down? Will you let me in?”

He made a muffled sound, but his answer was clear. “You know I will.”

Steps light and sure, I dashed out of my apartment and down to his patio gate. I tapped lightly, waiting for him to open the door. In a few moments he did, and I was struck by how thin he was, not just lean, as if losing me had leeched the life from him.

“I thought I saw you in a bar,” I said. “But it wasn’t you. It was some other ginger devil.”

“Did you take him home?” There were five paces between us, fireflies and the golden gleam of his solar lamps. His garden smelled of flowers and green things, delicately come to blossom in the warmth of the afternoon.

“No,” I said. “But you knew that already, somewhere in your bones.”

“Why are you here, Nadia? There’s nothing left to talk about.”

I took a step toward him. “That’s where you’re wrong. You think you can plan love. Pencil it in for later. But really, you’re just scared of being hurt again. But here’s the thing, Ty. What I feel for you, it isn’t going away. Neither am I. You could call me in five years, ask me to come, and I’d get in the car and start driving.”

He smiled softly and shook his head. “Then you’re crazy.”

“In ten years, that will still be true. I’ve had a lot of time to think, and none of it’s changed. I love you, and I love Sam, too. I understand what it means to be with you. It won’t be a storybook life, with everything happening on some perfect schedule. I don’t care about that.”

“You’ll change your mind.” But he sounded dazed, gazing across the four short steps that separated us like I might storm the battlements and cast down all his archers.

I planned to.

“Bullshit. My dad’s sick, Ty. My parents can’t afford tuition, and I can’t keep my scholarship when I drop to part-time. But you won’t hear me saying, Damn, I’ll never be a teacher now. I’ll get there. It’ll just take longer. I won’t give up on that, and I won’t give up on you, either.”

“Nadia...” There was a world of loneliness and longing in that tone.

I knew it intimately; I wore it like a charm about my neck. “If you send me away today, I’ll knock tomorrow. I’ll say this again. And again. Until you’re ready to believe me, and I don’t care how long it takes. I do not fucking give up on the things that matter, and nobody’s ever mattered more to me than you. When you asked before, I wasn’t ready...and neither were you. That was just a challenge you threw down to get me to back away.”

“Was it?”

“If not, then it was the crappiest proposal ever.” There, I made him smile. He was still holding the red heart, stroking it between his fingers.

“I want to believe you,” he whispered.

The unspoken “but” hung in the air between us. I only smiled and let myself out of the garden gate. Upstairs, I expected some surge of disappointment, but it didn’t come. I had time. Besides work, what did I have to do besides convince Ty to take a chance on me?

Saturday morning, I went downstairs with French toast and scrambled eggs. I was kind enough to let him sleep in, so I didn’t bang on the door before ten. He’d clearly been up late the night before, I hoped thinking about me. He was gorgeous and rumpled and so very kissable. Smiling, I offered him breakfast.

“This is day one,” I said. “I still love you, even if you’re stubborn.”

As he gaped, I went back upstairs. A muffled curse drifted up to my ears as he shut his door. I am an irresistible force. Sunday morning, I went shopping and bought a present for Sam, a big box of crayons, along with a dinosaur coloring book. I wrapped them up and knocked on Ty’s door just before noon. Despite the weekend off, he didn’t look any more rested than he had on Friday.

“What?” he demanded, running a hand through his hair.

“This is for Sam. I know you’ll be picking him up later.”

His expression softened slightly. “Thanks. He misses you. I mean, I know you see him in school, but I still hear about your soup and your stories and—”

“I love you,” I cut in. “And I love him. There’s no reason for us to live like this. You’ve cut yourself off from life, not to protect Sam, but because you don’t think you deserve to be happy. You punish yourself because you misunderstood Diana, and you hurt her.”

“Stop,” he said roughly.

“I won’t. I never will. Every day I will be at your door, reminding you that I’m here, and I’m not leaving.”

With that, I turned, but he grabbed my arm and spun me around. A thunderous frown built between his brows, but it broke against my smile. With a sigh that was almost a moan, he put his forehead against mine, his breath soft on my cheeks.

“Don’t let me wreck you,” he whispered. “I’ve tried so hard to stay away and yet here you are. What do I have to do, flee the country?”

“I’d come after you. The timing might not be ideal, but you are. We are. And deep down, you feel it, too.”

“God, yes.” His sigh of surrender tingled against my mouth.

Then we were kissing, hard and delving, with his hands roving my body like he’d die if he didn’t touch me. Ty backed me into his apartment and kicked the door shut behind us. Thank God for his parents and for weekends off. He cupped my face in his hands and kissed every inch of it, heated, wild with need.

“Tell me,” I ordered.

He knew. “I love you. Oh, God, I love you so much. And I hate how I am without you.”

The beauty of this moment? His admission didn’t mean he’d lost, but rather, that we both won. “Me, too. I wasn’t lying when I said I’m happiest with you.”

“Your parents will hate me,” he predicted. But he didn’t seem overly concerned as he kissed my collarbone, sending a hot shiver through me.

“That’s not true. I’ve already told them all about you. My mother advised me to pester you every single day—she’s a fan of winning by attrition.”

“Seriously? She... They know about Sam, too?” Apparently, I’d managed to surprise him.

I nodded. “They’re looking forward to meeting both of you.”

“Mmm. I can’t think about that right now. I will later, I promise. But right now—”

“You have a little while before you need to pick Sam up, and before then, you want to fuck me until I can’t walk straight.”

“We,” he corrected softly. “We’re picking up Sam later. No more lines, Nadia. If you’re ready, then so am I. Otherwise, though, you’re spot-on.”

He took my smile for assent and carried me to his bedroom. We got naked in record time, and to Ty’s credit, he tried so hard to be slow and tender. But neither of us could wait. I rubbed against him like a cat, reveling in the heat of his skin. Then I ran my hands lower.

His breath hissed through parted lips. “Yes, like that. God, you’ll kill me.”

Ty moved with my hands, giving up on more extensive foreplay, but for me, this had the same effect. I was desperate to touch him, taste everywhere. My teeth grazed his neck as I skated my fingers down his hip. He pushed against me, and I rocked back.

“Mmm. Please,” I whispered.

In five minutes, he was in me, gasping and shivering, and I couldn’t stop stroking him. His mouth took mine, again, again, matching the tempo of his thrusts. It was messy and delicious when we came, a fierce and wrenching pleasure that had me digging my hands into his back. I bit him on the ear and he almost pounded me through the mattress, groaning with the force of the orgasm. Afterward, once he disposed of the condom and came back to bed, I curled onto my side and reached for him. Ty put his arms around me as if I might disappear.