Part of me regrets that I didn't.
But the other part of me feels relieved because what if she didn't reciprocate my feelings? What if it scared her away?
Would she still be here right now, lying against me while pressing soft kisses to my collarbone?
I drag a hand through my hair, kicking myself for not knowing if I should just say fuck it and confess my love to her or hold off until I know for certain she feels the same way.
Even though Meadow never talks about her love life, I get the feeling that she’s the type of person who likes to be cautious in relationships and take things slow.
I almost laugh at the thought because what we did last night was anything but slow.
After I took her on the chair, we fucked three more times—in the bed, under the shower’s scalding spray, and pressed against the doorframe when we couldn't wait to make it back to the bed the third time.
We were insatiable, getting lost in each other until we collapsed in bed together, tangled in a delirium of limbs, kisses, and sweat.
When sleep finally claimed us, we were so spent we might as well have been fused together, every inch of our skin magnetized.
Meadow slides a few inches up my body and rests her chin against my chest, her mocha eyes staring up at me as a sleepy smile curves her lips.
There’s a lightness in her gaze today, something more comfortable and open. Her fingers dip, tracing the valley of my ribs.
“Owen…”
“Yeah, baby?”
Fuck, I love calling her that.
I hope she doesn't think it’s weird.
She definitely didn't mind when I called her baby last night and told her to come for me.
All the blood in my body rushes to my groin at the memory.
“How long?” she asks, voice low. Her question takes me by surprise.
My brows pinch together. “What?”
She lifts her eyes to mine, her cheek pressed against my chest. “How long have you felt this way… About me?”
Since the second I laid eyes on you.
I reach down and gently swipe a strand of dark hair from her eyes.
“I knew you were special from the moment I met you,” I start. “You were sarcastic and witty, but also guarded and sweet. You could make me laugh one second, then start talking about books and theories in the next,” I chuckle.
“Of course, I’ve always thought you were beautiful,” I continue, “but your mind fascinates me. I could just sit next to you and watch you think, and that would be enough.”
She blinks, her cheeks blushing as she gazes up at me with hearts in her eyes.
“That’s really sweet, but…” she deflects, letting out a nervous chuckle. “I’m pretty basic… Especially compared to the women you’ve dated in the past.”
“Basic?” I repeat, offended on her behalf.
I slide my hand from her hair down to her jaw, tilting her face up so she has no choice but to look straight into my eyes.
“Meadow, do you hear yourself right now?” I murmur. “You arenotbasic. You’re layered. You’re careful. You don’t hand people pieces of yourself for free. But you are not fucking basic. You’re the only woman who’s ever made me question everything I thought I wanted.”
I ponder telling her that she’s the reason I ended things with my ex; why I decided I couldn't marry another woman when all I can fucking think about every second of my day is Meadow.
