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When he left the diaconate, the school paper did a story on him, and I fell for him a little bit more. He spoke with honesty and sincerity about his journey, and though I was never mentioned, it was clear his heart still belonged to me.
After that day our texts became more frequent, and we slowly got to know each other. I learned more than just how he liked to be sucked and fucked. I lived for his short updates, and even though I wasn’t religious, I prayed for his God to watch over him. They were often accompanied by caveats that he wasn’t allowed to steal Nate back to his holy side, which I learned later was not how prayers worked, but who could blame me? As much as I prayed he was thriving and figuring out who he wanted to be through time and therapy, I was also praying for this day to come, and that I wouldn’t be left stranded at our pub alone.
My fingers wrapped around the steering wheel and I squeezed tight, willing the gridlock to disperse. I glanced down at my phone next to the notebook he’d sent me two days ago, mostly to quell my worries that he’d messaged me to call the whole thing off. Then again, if that was his plan, he wouldn’t have sent the notebook with all those beautiful words. Filthy, but beautiful. So much of the last year was spent getting to know the Nate I hadn’t met a year ago. There was so much to the man outside the bedroom, and I continuously fell deeper in love with him—despite the fact I craved the man I met. The notebook reassured me that man still existed, that he took my words to heart and didn’t let my Mr. Fox slip away.
Each page was filled with poems or short stories containing his deepest desires and fantasies. They ranged from him thinking about me because it was Valentine’s Day, to seeing the ropes on the dock of the lake and wondering what the imprints would look like on my flesh after he’d tied me to his bedframe. His words were fierce, raw, and filthy—the exact opposite of what everyone else saw when they looked at Nate. But they were words that spoke to my soul and solidified with every page that I was his muse as much as he was mine. They confirmed what I knew the night we met, that what we shared was something most people only dreamed about.
When I finally reached the pub, it wasn’t the neon lights that beckoned me, but the silhouette of the man at the bar. The man who fought his demons to keep me. The only man who made me feel cherished.
I smoothed down the emerald swing dress I’d chosen just for him, knowing just how much it brought out my eyes, and headed for the door.
This moment was a year in the making, and though I was nervous as hell, I knew lighting didn’t strike the same place twice. There would be mountains we needed to climb, but we’d do it together. We were destined for each other, and this was our moment.
NATE
Football blared on the televisions across the pub; same as before, along with the same bartender who watched me drown my sorrows a year ago. He slid a beer and a shot of whiskey toward me and gave me the universal nod that said ‘let me know if you need anything else’.
I lifted two fingers and nodded my thanks before taking a sip of my beer. My goals tonight were very different from a year ago, but somehow it felt right to sit in the same seat and order the same drinks, even if I was a completely different person.
The last year had been one of uncomfortable growth. I can’t lie and say it was easy—it fucking sucked. Over the last twelve months I attended weekly therapy and meetings with Tristan, ran my first marathon, got a dog, and left the diaconate. Through all of it, I tried to distance myself from Eden. She was right when she told me I needed to do this for myself. As much as I wanted her to be at my side, I couldn’t let her save me… even if by walking away, that’s exactly what she did. Sure, we talked, but I couldn’t attach myself to her, something I learned was a coping mechanism of mine. Instead, I was forced to look at myself in the mirror every day and decide who I wanted to be, and for the first time in my life, I felt like I was exactly where I was meant to be.
Now I just needed to get my girl back.
The moment she walked through the door, my eyes were on her—so were the eyes of every other guy in the bar, and I wanted nothing more than to rip every single eyeball from their heads. If Eden’s eyes had strayed from me for even a moment I might have, but they didn’t. She only saw me, and damn if that didn’t send all the blood in my head rushing straight for my dick.
I shifted in my seat and sipped my beer as she sauntered toward me with a smile that could be seen from the heavens.
Eden was a vision in emerald. The strappy dress she wore showed off not only the freckles on her collarbone and shoulders, but accentuated every sinful curve. Eden in daisy dukes brought me to my knees, but Eden wearing this little green dress made it fucking impossible to breathe. With each step the bottom swung gracefully, exposing the tops of her thighs, and I couldn’t help but picture them wrapped around my ears as earmuffs once more.
Fuck, I wanted her, and the way she ran her teeth over her lower lip confirmed she was thinking the same thing about me. But wants like these were like wishes: they only came true if both parties were ready and willing.
Please guide us where we are meant to go.
I sent up the silent prayer to my God. A year ago I was willing, but I wasn’t ready. I was now, and even though I was confident Eden and I were on the same page, having his guidance felt right.
When she reached the bar, Eden brushed her fingers against mine and cocked a brow before tilting her head so her red curls fell to the side. “Is this seat taken?”
A small smile tipped my lips. “That depends.”
“On?”
And that's where I went off the rails. I had this whole plan to play it smart, be coy, but that’s not what came out of my mouth.
“You see I’m waiting for this girl. She’s about your height and absolutely stunning. From the moment I met her, I craved her, first in my bed, where she met me in the darkness and showed me the light. Then with each passing moment, she continued to captivate me. She kissed my flaws and forced me to face them, going so far as to reject me so that I could do so. I don’t deserve her, but I am a better man now because of her. That’s not to say I’m not still broken—I always will be—but she gives me strength. ”
I paused when silver began to rim her radiant eyes, and for a split second I worried my in-the-moment plan to lay everything on the line right from the start was the wrong choice. Maybe she wasn’t ready, and I’d misread every sign.
Then her lips were on mine.
Soft yet demanding, and nothing but absolute perfection, they worked against mine, and in that moment, I knew I’d been wrong to doubt this was where we were heading, even for a second.
We’d spent the last year falling in love in the most unconventional way, and this was our moment.
I slid my hand through her hair, dragging my fingers through the silky red strands, and instantly my mind flooded with memories of how good it felt wrapped around my fist as she knelt before me.
Eden pulled away, but only so far that her forehead was still pressed to mine. Her swollen lips tipped upward in a radiant smile, and her eyes fell to the bar top where my room key sat next to my beer.
“Presumptuous.”
