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“I’m so grateful for you,” I whisper into his neck.
Shawn lifts me up and walks me toward the bedroom. The rest of the gifts sit forgotten as the lights twinkle on the tree. I don’t care about them—not when the man I adore is kissing me like his life depends on it. Setting me on my bed and pulling off my clothes like I’m the most precious thing he’s ever seen. Sinking into me, his hand over my heart and my name on his lips.
Mine,I think as he pushes me to the brink of ecstasy and sends me tumbling over the edge.
Mine forever, I think as he holds me in his arms until the sun comes up, neither one of us wanting to leave.
FORTY-FIVE
SHAWN
“You’re deep in thought,”Aiden says as we stand in his kitchen the day before New Year’s Eve. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” I tip my beer back and swallow the last sip of alcohol before wiping my mouth clean. “Kind of. Everythingisokay, but I’m… confused.”
“Oh?” He turns to face me, his back resting against the edge of the marble countertop and his arms folded across his chest. He studies me, a divot between his eyebrows and his head tilted to the side. “Want to talk about it?”
I don’t know what I want.
That’s not true.
I know I want Lacey.
I just need to stop dicking around and fucking tell her.
We’ve had thealmostconversations, where we get just close enough to talking about what’s been going on between us before we skirt away and find something else to say.
It’s like we both know what the other is thinking, but when you put it out in the world, when you give it a name and a voice and a permanent fucking spot in your heart, there’s room for rejection. For it to blow up in your face and ruin everything.
“The day you met Maggie,” I start. I blow out a breath and reach for another beer. “Can you tell me about it?”
“You’ve heard this story a dozen times,” Aiden says. “We met. We slept together. I was an idiot who let her walk out of my apartment, then we found each other again. What else do you want to know?”
“What was going through your head when she left? You two had instant chemistry; why didn’t you tell her how you felt?”
“Why does anyone keep their feelings inside? Because talking about them fucking sucks.” Aiden laughs and rolls his shoulders back. He plays with his cuffed sleeve, the plaid shirt rolled up to his elbows. I see the two Ms he has tattooed right in the center of his bicep for Maggie and Maven, and my lips twitch. It pairs with the A and M Maggie has on her arm, and these two are so fucking in love, it makes my stomach sick. “Putting yourself out there for a maybe isn’t easy. I knew we were attracted to each other. I knew I could see a future with her, even after twenty-four hours together. But actually saying the words and asking her to stay? That was hard.”
“You were miserable after she left,” I say, and I remember the night he showed up at my apartment, dark circles under his eyes and his clothes wrinkled as if he had been walking through the city for days. I’d never seen him so lost. “But you reached out to her.”
“I did. I was willing to take anything she had to give me, even if it meant yelling at me to leave her alone.” His laughter turns softer, more restrained. “Just tell her, man.”
“What?” My eyes cut to him with a sharp glance. “What are you talking about?”
“Come on, Shawn. Don’t pull that shit with me. I’ve known you for forty years. You’ve never looked at anyone the way you look at Lacey.” He dips his chin and runs his hand over his jaw. “No one’s looked atyouthe way she looks at you, either,” he adds, and I think I’m knocked off balance.
I huff and pop off the beer cap. I spot Lacey across the apartment, sitting on the couch with Maggie and Maven. She’s showing them pictures from my parents’ house; the one of me on the couch with my five nieces, all of us fast asleep.
Christmas afternoon, when she stuck a bow on my forehead and I drew a red dot on her nose.
She quickly scrolls past the one of us in bed, the sun rising behind us and my lips on her cheek, her smile blindingly bright.
“I like her, Aiden. I like her a whole fucking lot,” I admit.
It’s the first time I’ve said it out loud, and it’s like a weight leaving my body. I’m lighter after it’s out in the open, a breath I’ve been holding for weeks.
“Good.” He clasps my shoulder, and I hear a softwhoop. “What’s your plan?”
“Tell her, I guess. Which is the hard part. What the fuck do I say? ‘Hey, thanks for being my friend for almost two years. Want to go steady with me?’”
