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“Don’t you dare!” I grab his forearm to keep him in place. “I love your hair.” Reaching out, I run my fingers through it.
“I love everything about you.” He leans in, laying a soft kiss to my lips.
“Why do you have to be so perfect?” I grumble against his mouth. He pulls back, a soft chuckle escaping past his lips. “You always know exactly what to say, what to do, how to make the worst situation seem okay. It’s infuriating. Sometimes I just want you to get mad with me.”
“I hate to break it to you, love, but I am far from perfect. And sometimes I do get mad. I get so angry that you’re having to go through this that I don’t know what to do with myself. But then I look at you and I don’t know. I can’t help but feel so fucking lucky to be here with you that the anger just kinda fades away.”
“You’re doing it again,” I point out, rolling my eyes.
“Then tell me what to say. What can I say to make you feel better?”
“You can tell me I look like a boy and you hate it.”
“I won’t lie to you, Finley. Because I do not hate it.” He grins, kissing me again. “And you certainly don’t look like a boy.” He deepens the kiss, sliding his tongue between my lips.
“You heard the doctor,” I remind him, pulling back before the kiss gets too heated.
“I know. I know. No sex. But that doesn’t mean I can’t kiss you as much as I want.” He slides his tongue into my mouth again, his hand wrapping around the back of my neck to hold me in place.
Heat creeps down my cheeks and quickly spreads through the rest of my body. We’ve been skirting this line for two weeks, ever since the doctor told me I should refrain from having sex until at least two weeks after I’ve finished chemo.
I didn’t even know that was a thing, but apparently it is, depending on the situation. In any normal circumstance I probably wouldn’t want to have sex. I have no hair, I’ve lost fifteen pounds off of my already slender frame, and my energy level is at an all-time low, but every time Abel kisses me all I can think about is how incredible it is to have his weight on top of me. How it feels to have him drive into me over and over again. The sounds he makes when he comes apart.
It’s maddening.
“Abel,” I pant against his mouth, managing to break free.
“Okay. I’m stopping.” He pulls back, a grin etched onto his perfect face. “I gotta get the groceries put away anyway. I don’t want the ice cream to melt.”
“You got me ice cream?” I immediately perk up as I watch him stand. He crosses the room, throwing me a smile over his shoulder as he grabs the bags off the table and heads into the kitchen.
Ice cream is about the only thing that sounds good to me anymore and as such, I eat it just about every day. Well, I was eating it every day until I ran out two days ago. I haven’t had the energy to go out and get more and I didn’t want to ask Claire because she’s already doing so much for me.
“Not only did I get you ice cream. I got you four different kinds. Thought maybe you’d like a little variety,” he says from the kitchen, seconds before I hear the refrigerator door open.
“You really are the best.” I slide my beanie back on and stand, my legs wobbling slightly under my weight.
“Just remember that the next time when you’re mad at me for saying the right thing.” He smiles at me when I step into the kitchen.
“Shush.” I reach for him and he stops what he’s doing to pull me into his arms.
“What are you doing?” he asks, burying his face into my neck.
“Thanking you.” I wrap my arms around his middle and squeeze tightly.
“Well then by all means, thank away.” He presses his lips to the soft spot where my pulse thrums.
I don’t know what I did to deserve someone like Abel in my life. It’s one thing to meet a good looking guy and share one hot night together. It’s quite another for that guy to step in and care for you when things are at their worst. And not because he has to but because he wants to.
Pulling back, I slide my hands up to his cheeks and pull his face down to mine.
“I love you, Abel Collins.” I let the words I’ve been holding in fall from my lips so effortlessly you’d think I had said them a million times before.
He sucks in a sharp breath, his gaze holding mine.
“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say that.” He drops his forehead to mine. “I love you, Finley Roberts. More than I ever thought possible to love another person.”
“There you go again.” I pull back, not able to fight the smile on my lips.
“What?” He cocks his head to the side.
“For saying the perfect thing.”
“Guess it must be a gift.” He laughs. “Come here.” He pulls me closer, sliding the beanie from my head before tossing it somewhere behind me. “I love you,” he says again, his lips finding mine seconds later.
