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I closed my eyes again, too drained to move. I heard him pad across the floor to the kitchen to throw away the condom. A moment later, he was back, picking me up, and carrying me to bed. He curled his naked body around mine and I smiled contently.
c h a p t e r
Thirty
I awoke in bed alone but the sounds and smells of breakfast being made could be heard outside Trace’s bedroom. I sat up, inhaling the scent of freshly cooked bacon. My stomach immediately began to rumble, reminding me that with the excitement of yesterday, I hadn’t eaten dinner.
I rolled out of bed, dressed in a tank top, and a pair of Trace’s old boxers.
I padded out into the open kitchen, and living area, taking a seat on one the stools. I rested my elbows on the raised bar, watching the drool-worthy sight of Trace making breakfast in only his boxers.
“Hungry?” He asked.
“Starving,” I replied, watching the way his hands and arm muscles flexed as he flipped an egg in the skillet.
It still amazed me that Trace was such a skilled cook.
He slid a plate with a fried egg, biscuit, and two pieces of bacon my way, along with a fork and glass of orange juice. He fixed a plate for himself and sat on the stool beside me.
“Thank you,” I smiled at him, “for yesterday. The balloon ride was amazing.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he said genuinely. “I like seeing you happy like that…” He paused. “When you’re carefree and don’t care what anyone thinks,” he elaborated.
“It’s nice sometimes to be…free,” I replied.
“So,” he cleared his throat and sipped at his juice to stall, “have you—uh—thought any about what I asked you?”
“About moving in?” I questioned.
He nodded.
“I have,” I answered simply.
“Annnnnnnd?” He drew out the word.
“As long as you’re truly okay with me living here, then yes, I’ll move-”
His arms wrapped around me and he kissed me soundly.
“I’m so happy that you’re gonna move in,” he brushed strands of my hair away from my face. “My space is your space. My stuff is your stuff. Anything that’s mine, baby, it’s yours.”
I thought that was quite the declaration for someone that hadn’t said, ‘I love you’, yet, but I chose not to comment.
“So, you’re really okay with this?” I asked. I didn’t want to pack all of my things, and move in here, only to have him change his mind a week later, and ask me to leave.
“Of course I am. I wouldn’t have asked you if I wasn’t sure,” he took his seat once more.
“Okay,” I smiled widely. “We have to be out of the dorms by Friday.” That was only two days away and I hadn’t done a lot of packing. My procrastinator side had decided to rear its ugly head.
“I’ll make room for all of your things,” he promised.
“Thanks,” I watched him from the corner of my eye, looking for any sign that he was unsure of us living together, but it was obvious that he was pleased about this. His lips kept turning up in a smile.
I was happy too…but scared at the same time.
Our relationship was going so well, but despite my gut and what Avery had said, I wasn’t sure if almost seven months of dating was long enough to know someone was your forever.
But damn, if I didn’t believe that anyway.
