Something shifted in that moment. I pushed Foster out of my mind. He had already called me last week from a party and asked me to come join him. I heard the girls in the background. Surely, he’d moved on.
So when Pen came out of the bathroom, I was waiting across the hall for her.
Chapter
Thirty-Four
Decker
* * *
“Hey.” Her voice was small, unsure.
“Ask me again.”
“What?”
“Ask me.”
“Decker.” Her shoulders fell, but I was done holding back.
“Just ask me, Pen.”
She blew out a breath. “Truth or dare?”
“Truth.”
“Why are you asking me to ask you?”
“Because I think about us all the time. In high school, after, when you were dating my brother and I had no right to think about us.” I stepped forward. “It’s always been you, Pen. Aurora broke up with me because she knew what I refused to admit to myself.”
Tears filled her eyes, and she pressed her palms to the wall behind her.
I was so sick of wondering what she tasted like, how we would fit together when I kissed her. All the years apart felt like an eternity. It only took me two steps to cross the hall. Two steps to seal my fate.
I’d thought about it so many times over the years, but when my lips met hers, it was so much better than I’d ever imagined.
The first time we came together that night was rushed, and we were barely unclothed. Years of pent-up feelings and lust exploded out of us. But the second time, we took our time, explored one another’s bodies, and I kissed every inch of her skin. I’d never been so happy.
The next morning, I woke up first.
She was asleep in my T-shirt. The gray one from Kingsley with the cracked lettering. Her blonde hair was spread across the pillow, her face relaxed and at rest in a way I’d never seen it when she was awake. I watched her for a minute and thought about all the versions of this I’d imagined over the years and how none of them came close to this moment.
I made coffee, and I was cracking eggs when she came out of the bedroom, rubbing her eyes.
All I thought in that moment was that I could live the rest of my life right there with her, and it would be the best life imaginable.
“Aren’t I the cook in our relationship?” She walked in front of me and took over the eggs.
I caged her against the counter, kissing the tops of her shoulders, her neck.
“I’m going to get a shell in it,” she said.
“I’d like to ditch the entire egg thing and go back to bed.”
She continued to crack the eggs and put them in the bowl, and my hands ran down to the edge of her T-shirt, my T-shirt, slowly sliding my palms over her skin.
A knock sounded on the door. I had no idea who would be here so early.
