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He laughs but he can’t hide the flicker in his eyes, as though there’s something he wants to say but he’s holding himself back. I want to roar at him, to demand that he shares whatever it is with me.
But I feel the moment slipping away, like sand through my fingers, and the harder I squeeze the more difficult it becomes to hold on. In the end, I focus on our meal instead.
We eat in silence for a while and then Madden says, “So what do you want first, Maddie, a boy or a girl?”
“What about you?” I shoot back, glad the weirdness has seemingly disappeared.
Maybe there wasn’t any weirdness, to begin with. Maybe it was all in my head.
“That sounds like you're dodging the question to me.” He chuckles. “I asked you first.”
“I honestly don’t have a preference,” I tell him. “Whether they’re a boy or a girl, it doesn’t matter…”
“As long as they’re healthy, as long as they’re happy,” he says. “I feel exactly the same. When I think about our future life, when I hear those footsteps pounding through the house, it doesn’t make any difference to me.”
“Does it feel weird not being so grumpy and macabre all the time?” I tease.
I put heavy lighthearted notes in my voice, enough to let him know I’d never insult him. It’s the same way he does whenever he says something that could be construed as negative.
We always want the other to know we’re coming from a good place, that we always want the best for each other.
“It feels good,” he says. “I feel like I’ve been living my whole life with this weight pressing down on me. Maybe it’s the weight of what happened when I was a kid. Maybe it’s the weight of knowing I should be able to let go, but not feeling like I can. Maybe it’s the weight of fearing I’ll spend my whole life trapped in a cycle of darkness. Whatever it is, you’ve eradicated it. I feel free.”
My heart pumps so hard it’s like it’s trying to get me high with the force of its beating, the blood rushing crazy-fast in my veins.
“I feel exactly the same,” I murmur. “As in, exactly the same.”
I realize as soon as the words have left my mouth that I might’ve just told a lie, a lie by accident.
Although I feel the same generally – he’s helped me to feel wanted, desired, womanly – there’s still this niggling feeling at the edges of it all, telling me I won’t be good enough when the time comes.
But he told me not to worry. We can try again.
And yet he also said we’ll have a perfect relationship.
Do perfect boyfriends and girlfriends mess up the first time they have sex?
Madden, I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can have sex later. I know you want to. And I really want to as well. I want it so freaking bad. My whole body aches for it. But I just know I’m going to be too nervous. I know I’m going to mess up and panic again like last time. I know I’m going to ruin it all, this fiction we’re building together, two writers creating a make-believe world where I’m confident and can give you everything I wish I could.
I don’t say any of this though. The words bounce around my head. There’s even a tickling feeling at the base of my throat, as though the words are trying to burst out of me.
But I refuse to let myself speak them. I push them down.
“It’s no surprise we feel the same. We were made for each other.”
“Made by who?” I murmur.
He grins, wide, an animalistic flash of teeth.
“You’ve got me there, Maddie. I haven’t given it much thought. I suppose I was speaking metaphorically. But yeah, you’re right. I can’t explain it. I just know it’s true, like the rising and setting of the sun, like the wind, like my own breath. I just know you’re the only person I’ll ever want or need.”
“Forever,” I whisper.
He lets his fork drop and stares at me, stares like he’s trying to break me with his gaze.
I feel so seen when he looks at me like this, and not just physically. I know he’s peering past my eyes and my skin and my everything, sifting through all the parts of me, and finds himself pleased with each and every one.
I think of when I let the L-word slip, and I know it’s true. I know I love this man. But there’s no freaking way I’m saying it first.
“I can’t wait to get you home,” he whispers passionately. “I can’t wait to show you how beautiful you are.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Madden
My hand is on the small of her back as we ride the elevator up to my apartment, tempting inches from her ass, outlined sexily in that glittering black dress. My body strains with the closeness of her, the scent of her, and yet I know if I indulge my desire to reach down and massage that ass I won’t be able to stop.
