Rachel Dyken: Toxic

“Hey, you do know how to cook salmon, right?” Saylor asked once we walked into the house that I was hoping, praying, she’d still want me after I said what I was going to say.

“What?” I dropped my keys onto the counter. “You mean, you can’t cook?” I threw my hands up in the air. “How can you even call yourself a woman? What have I gotten myself into! I’m going to starve!”

Saylor crossed her arms over her chest. “You done yet?”

“Make me food, woman.”

“So here’s the line.” Saylor made a motion with her hands. “You just jumped over it then burnt the village on the other side.”

“Aw…” I winked. “I can cook, but I am bit sad I won’t get to see you in some apron, sweating over the stove looking all hot and bothered.”

“Because cooking does that to women.” Saylor nodded. “We also have pillow fights in our thongs and look forward to doing laundry.”

Laughter bubbled out of me before I could stop it.

She hit me again.

“Stop hitting me.” I stepped away. “And be useful.”

“Useful?” she repeated, her eyes narrowing again.

“I’m cooking in my boxers.” I shrugged. “So I need you to get me an apron, just in case Nemo decides to come back to life and tries to nibble off Gabe Jr.”

Saylor closed her eyes, then opened them. “So many, many, things…” She opened five drawers before she found the apron. “…wrong with you.”

Keeping my eyes locked with hers and feeling no shame whatsoever, I peeled off my button up and stepped out of my pants.

Saylor’s mouth dropped open a bit.

“You were saying?”

“Stop flexing.”

“I’m not.”

“Damn it!” She stomped her foot.

“Apron?” I held out my hand, palm up and waited.

Saylor’s eyes ate me alive as she examined me from head to toe. “No.” She hid the apron behind her back. “I think you should take your chances with Nemo. Prove you’re a man and all that.”

“Wow.” I teased. “I didn’t know it was up for questioning.”

“What?” her head jerked up.

“My manhood.” I grinned. Saylor’s cheeks went bright red. “You know I could always cook naked.”

She swallowed… slowly. “Oh?”

“Keep your pants on.” I winked. “I kind of want to savor the moment when I’m with you for the first time, and I really don’t want you to be covered in fish.”

She exhaled a long breath as her eyes once again greedily took me in from head to toe.

“Now, honey… I could go for some honey dripped all over your body.” I stalked toward her. “Or maybe even some chocolate.” Leaning in, almost touching her, I nipped at her lower lip. “Right here.” I traced the line of her face and then moved my finger down her neck to her chest. “Or some whipped cream, right here.” I licked the hollow valley between her breasts and sighed happily.

“I forgot.” Her chest heaved.

“What?”

“How dangerous you are,” she breathed.

“And now?” My mouth sucked the skin just below her left ear. I moved up until my lips tugged at her ear. “Now what?”

“What?” She arched toward me. “I forgot the question.”

“Fish,” I whispered in her ear. “We have to cook the fish, and then — maybe — I’ll show you what I mean.” I stepped away from her body, feeling cold, wishing I could just press against her and stay there forever. But fish. I had fish to cook.

“Gabe—” She groaned. “Come back.”

“Nope. Gotta feed.” I stepped away farther and started getting busy with the food.

“Does it bother you?” She handed me the apron. I pulled it over my head and paused.

“Being shirtless? No.”

Saylor sighed and leaned against the counter top. “Not that. I still call you Gabe.”

I thought about it for a minute and answered. “Say, you met me as Gabe. All you know is Gabe. To you, I’m Gabe… so what if to the rest of the world I’m still Ashton? We’re the same person, and both Gabe and Ashton are in love with you.”

“That sounds like you have multiple personalities.” She teased, tugging the un-tied apron strings back so that I was plastered against her.

“I gotta admit, I kind like the idea that you’ll have a variety of names to choose from when I make you scream.”

Saylor’s face flamed red.

“Don’t worry.” I kissed her mouth. “We eat first.”

“And then?” Her voice wavered.

“And then…” I shrugged. “Forever. We have until forever.”

Healing doesn’t come right away — and even though I was still in pain, this time I embraced it, because the pain was a reminder that she had existed. The pain reminded me — she’d lived. Funny, how I used to think numbing my pain would make it go away. But the only way to fully rid yourself of the pain is to go against nature and embrace it. —Gabe H.

Gabe

My eyes roamed greedily over her lips. I couldn’t manage to pull my gaze away from her mouth as she took a sip of water and leaned back in her chair.

“Finished?” I stood and walked over to her side of the table.

“Yeah.” Saylor sighed. “No more fish.”

“So…” I held out my hand and pulled her to her feet then wrapped my arms around her. “About that last tear.”

Her eyebrows knit together in confusion. “I thought that the whole fish throwing thing and naked cooking got rid of that last tear. Besides, enough tears have been shed on both ends, Gabe.”

“True.” I pressed a kiss to her mouth and smiled against her lips. “But I want to be really sure.”

“Really sure?”

“Yup.” I laughed. “I don’t want to leave any room for doubt.”

“Doubt about what?”

“The way I feel about you. The way I feel about us. The way I feel about everything.” I sighed and released my hold on her hands, taking a step back so I could gather my thoughts better. “Today was Princess’s funeral. But Kimmy? She’s been gone for four years.” I shrugged. “Honestly, I thought I’d feel broken forever.”

Saylor didn’t move a muscle.

“But…” I paced in front of her. “I don’t. For some reason, in her death, I finally feel whole. Like everything’s come full circle. But there’s still something missing.”

“More fish?” Saylor offered.

“You’re getting warm.” I smirked and purposefully strode toward her.

“Water?”

“Even warmer.” I grinned, tilting her chin toward my face.

“More… boats?”

“With sails…” I sighed. “And people who man them…”

“You lost me.”

“Saylor.” I kissed her mouth. “I’m missing you . You’re the final piece to the puzzle, the star on the top of the Christmas tree.”

“I have always wanted to be a star.” She grinned.

“Be serious.”

“Call me a star again.”

“Say…” I groaned her name. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Saylor’s arms snaked around my neck as she pressed her lips against mine, once, twice, three times. And then pulled back.

“I know you’re young…” Damn, my throat was dry. Stupid nerves. “But, I want to start a life with you — I want to be with you. Forever.”

Saylor’s face lit up. “What exactly are you asking?”

“You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?”

She nodded.

I fell down on one knee.

And that’s when she started sobbing.

“I swear the harder I try to fix your tears, the more you cry. I’m going to be a nervous wreck around you for the rest of my life.”

She nodded again, wiping the tears from her eyes.

“Saylor.” I cleared my throat “I know you’re young. I know you need to finish school. I’m great with that, because I’m not going anywhere. I want to build my life here, with you. I want to have a beginning, a middle, and an end to our story. I want to create music with you. I want to take care of you. The last thing in this world that I deserve, is the gift of your love, the gift of your commitment to me. I realize that…” I shrugged, using the shrug as a way to actually process this huge moment.