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It was something bigger than that.
Something that I wasn’t sure I’d actually ever felt for someone outside of the platonic, familial sort.
Love.
Sure, I thought at some point that I’d loved Warren. Looking back, though, it was just the desire to be loved by someone else. Mingled with a little infatuation because he was so different from what I’d been used to.
Now, though, I knew for sure that what I felt for him hadn’t ever even hinted at love.
Not if what I was feeling for Aurelio was what love truly felt like.
It wasn’t the juvenile butterflies in the belly, the skittering of nerves.
It was something deeper, more comfortable. Something I could bury down into. Something that gave me peace, not anxiety.
I longed for him the way love was always talked about. The urge to be close to him, to feel him, smell him, and hear him was overpowering at times, leaving me following the urge to move toward him until he was touching me again.
I desired him in a way that I’d never experienced before. Like I was always ready to have him inside me.
And I just… enjoyed him. As a man. As a person. The way he talked about his mother with so much respect for having to raise five kids on her own when her husband passed. How he talked lovingly about his siblings, even when he was telling funny stories about them. And, yes, how he talked about his dreams for his future. With complete certainty about having a wife, having a house full of kids, growing old with someone, spending time with his grandchildren.
The difference between Aurelio’s desire for a family and Warren’s desire for an heir was simple. There was no ownership in the way Aurelio talked about future children. He wanted children because he loved kids, because he wanted his life to be full of them. Not because he wanted to shape and mold them into his exact image, to force them to carry on some family tradition.
I could see Aurelio with Judah. Teaching him to ride a bike, to throw a baseball, to cook. Then, as he got older, how to treat girls and women, how to be a good man.
If Judah just so happened to grow up to be a lot like Aurelio, I would be a happy mom.
But I was getting way ahead of myself.
It was easy to get caught up in the sensations, in this budding relationship. Since there was nothing else going on at the moment.
The fact of the matter was, though, that we hadn’t even talked about what was going on with us, what either of our intentions or hopes were, if this was even anything more than something physical.
It was foolish to keep getting so far ahead of myself.
“You alright in there?” Aurelio asked, tapping his knuckles on the partially open door before pushing it all the way open. “That’s a heavy look,” he said, brows pinching. “You okay?”
I nodded, but ducked my head, knowing he would see the lie if I didn’t.
“Where’s Judah?” I asked.
“He wanted to go in his bed. He’s worn out,” he said.
“I should go read him some books—“ I said, trying to rush past Aurelio.
“Hey,” he said, gently grabbing my arm, not enough to stop me, but just to get my attention.
I stopped a foot or so ahead of him, glad for the second where he didn’t see my face as I tried to bank down the exposed, raw look that I knew must have been on my face.
“He’ll let us know if he needs us,” Aurelio said, fingers massaging a bit. “What’s going on? Is something wrong?”
“No,” I insisted. And that was technically true. At this moment we were in, things were good. I was screwing things up by harping on the unknown future.
“Angel, come on,” he said, not pulling me back, and instead stepping in front of me, releasing my arm to gently grab my chin, lifting it. “Talk to me.”
“It’s nothing,” I insisted, forcing my gaze to lift to his.
Aurelio glanced away, then back, trying to figure out what to say. “You can say that you don’t want to talk about it,” he said. “But don’t lie and say it’s nothing, okay? That’s not good for either of us.”
