I want to tell her the rest, and I will, but we need to have a conversation about what’s going on between us before I trauma dump. It’s not something I like to talk about, but it’s important that she knows.
There are questions dancing in her eyes, but she remains silent.
“He was the one who encouraged me to go to university and eventually pursue my master’s in social work. I owe him a lot. I wouldn’t be the man I am now without him.”
“That’s amazing. I’m glad he’s a part of your life. Do you see him very often?”
“A couple of times a month. Next time, I would love for you to come with me so I can introduce you.”
“Me?” Her eyes widen as she pulls back.
Chuckling at her surprise, I say, “Yes, you. I’ve told him all about you.”
“You did?” She furrows her forehead with confusion written all over her face. “Why?”
Reaching for her hand, I take it in my own. “He asked me what I’ve been up to lately, and I told him I’ve been spending all my time obsessing over a younger woman with brilliant blue eyes and raven-black hair. About her love of colourful silk scarves, music from the ’90s, and the colour red. I told him you are an amazing artist and showed him your Instagram page so he could see your work.”
Her cheeks turn the prettiest shade of pink. “Obsessed, you say?”
“Very,” I hum, running my thumb back and forth across her hand.
“Aunt Maggie said you are smitten, but I like the word obsessed better. It has a unique ring to it, don’t you think?” She looks down at our threaded fingers and confesses, “I may be a little obsessed with you too.”
“I’m glad it’s not one-sided; that would be awkward.” I shake my head. Suddenly, what I need to say next feels important. “You make me want to break all my rules.”
Her eyes narrow, and she tilts her head. “What do you mean? What rules?”
“I swore off relationships,” I admit quietly. “Told myself I was content being alone.”
She watches me, eyes soft and questioning. “What changed? Why me?”
“The more I got to know you, the harder it became to stay away. You make me smile and laugh more than I have in years. You say exactly what you think—even when it drives me crazy. I’m even beginning to enjoy your sass.”
“My sass?” She lifts a brow. “I can definitely be sassier.”
“I have no doubt in my mind.” I smirk. Swallowing my nerves, I continue. “And God, you are so beautiful. I’ve been fighting my attraction to you for longer than I care to admit.”
She lets out a soft, breathy laugh. “You’ve been fighting it? I thought you were ignoring me.”
“Never.” I shake my head, bringing the back of her hand to my lips. “I’ve always seen you.”
In that moment, as I lower her hand, I feel something shift between us.
She leans in first, just a little. Her eyelids flutter shut as she dips her head to mine and places a gentle kiss at the corner of my mouth. It’s cautious and experimental, but that tiny touch undoes me.
I cup her waist and pull her onto my lap. She gasps as our bodies come together. I shiver as her hands slowly glide up my chest, fingers curling around the back of my neck. She tilts her head and brushes her lips against mine again. When her lips part, I take it as an invitation to deepen the kiss further. She responds immediately.
Tightening her hold around my neck, she pulls me closer, her chest pressed up against mine. The tiny whimpers she makes as we kiss send heat rolling through my body.
The kiss deepens naturally, as if we have both been pretending we didn’t want this all along. I moan into her mouth as she begins to slowly roll her hips over my hard length. She trembles as my hands travel up under her shirt over the curve of her waist. Her fingers tangle in my hair, tugging enough to make my pulse stutter.
Breaking the kiss, she pulls back enough for our foreheads to touch, while we catch our breath. I can feel her smile against my lips before she kisses me again. This time softer, as if to savour the moment.
She melts into me, her hands sliding from my hair to cup my jaw. The kiss slows and gentles until it becomes something tender.
Eventually, she pulls back, her lips lingering against mine in two more soft presses before she lowers her hands to my shoulders and lifts her head. Her cheeks are flushed, her breathing uneven, and her eyes are sparkling brightly.
We’re both quiet for a moment, our chests rising and falling together.
