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I blink at the sudden change of topic, though her words pique my curiosity. “That’s not a bad idea. What brought it on?”
Alex lets out a breath. “Daria and I were talking to her today, and she said she’s been so busy with her store that she hasn’t had any time to plan anything. But she also doesn’t want to. I think the thought of it makes her anxious,” she adds in an understanding tone.
My jaw clenches, knowing that Alex is right. My younger sister is always the first to volunteer herself when it comes to planning things for my birthday and Lilah’s, but when it comes to herself, she barely does anything. It’s like pulling teeth from her to allow us to celebrate her. I know Andrea; I know that she can get anxious and socially awkward, but she deserves to be celebrated. If she doesn’t want a lot of people at a party, then we can keep it small, but it would be a big celebration nonetheless. Fit for her.
Tilting my head at Alex, I ask, “You wanna help me plan something for her?”
She smiles. “I’d love to,” she says earnestly. “Big celebration with only close friends and family?”
It’s like she read my damn mind, on the same wavelength as me and my thoughts, and the idea alone makes my chest squeeze. I squeeze her leg and say, “Exactly,” before leaning in to close the gap between us.
I kiss her like I have been wanting to do so all day. It had taken me a minute to get my head into the game earlier today, my head swimming in thoughts of Alex and what we did last night. I swear to fucking God, the taste of her is still lingering on my tongue, constantly fueling my craving for her but never fully satisfying it.
Until now, when her lips meet mine and open up for my tongue to slide in along hers, the kiss slow and lazy but deep. One of my hands lifts, cupping her cheek to keep her close, reveling in the softness of her skin and lips as I feel her hand gently fist the front of my shirt. It’s like neither of us can get close enough, ever, wanting more and more like a need that is bone deep.
I kiss Alex, and everything else slips away, ceasing to exist until it’s just me and her. When was the last time I was able to enjoy someone like this? So fully? To delight in their presence and touch and everything they make me feel? As Alex’s tongue slides against mine, I tell myself to stop thinking about the last time any of this could happen and to just savor the present. When I have her like this, right now, then what is the point in thinking of nonexistent lasts?
A soft moan escapes Alex, one I swallow as the kiss deepens, and I shift her legs and pull her towards me, getting her to straddle me. Her hands find home in my hair, hips shifting to grind down on me and my own groan gruffly travels up my throat at the sensation. I’m instantly hard under her, gripping her hips to keep her as close as possible, sinking into the couch.
When my hands slide up her sides, I feel Alex tense up slightly, and it’s enough to stop me in place, pulling back with eyebrows furrowing together. “What’s wrong?” I ask, concern creasing my forehead as I look up at her.
There is a look in her blue eyes I can’t quite decipher, and I immediately know it’s because she doesn’t want me to. There is trouble in her gaze, that is all I know, and I want to fix it right away. “Nothing,” Alex says with a breathless, nervous sort of laugh. Her throat works as she licks her kiss swollen lips. “You should eat,” she adds, making me blink in bewilderment. Especially when she moves off my lap and onto her feet, already making her way towards the kitchen before I can even process what just happened.
“Alex,” I call out, sitting up. But she continues to the kitchen, and I’m right behind her, pushing myself off the couch and following her as the frown on my face deepens. What the hell is going on? “Honey, I’m not that hungry.”
“Are you sure?” Alex asks, not looking at me and instead peering into the fridge, her back toward me. “Marty made fried rice and sweet and sour chicken. There’s also some of the pasta you made leftover—”
Shaking my head, I come to a stop behind her and grasp her shoulders. “Alex,” I say again, a tightness in my chest forming at her obvious avoidance of whatever is going on. “Talk to me. What just happened?”
“Nothing happened,” she says. When I give her shoulders an encouraging squeeze, a sigh escapes her and she finally turns around, shutting the fridge door behind her. Her gaze lifts to meet mine, and what I think is embarrassment swims in her eyes, which only raises more questions. Before I can ask again, Alex says, “It’s dumb. Really stupid, actually. Not even worth bringing up.”
My frown remains. “If it’s upsetting you, then it’s worth bringing up,” I tell her.
“That’s the problem,” Alex says with a huff of a laugh, looking all sorts of frustrated with herself. “Itshouldn’tupset me because it’s ridiculous. And I—I want to talk to you about it, but I’m half afraid that I’m going to word it all wrong and might hurt you with what I have to say.”
The tightness in my chest intensifies somewhat, but I don’t break my gaze from Alex’s as I say, “I’m a big boy, honey. I can handle it.”
She chews on her lower lip, clearly waging a silent war in her head whether she wants to speak what’s on her mind. I wait quietly, patiently, wanting to know what’s going on but also not wanting to push her too much at the same time. It’s a delicate balance, one I don’t want to fuck up with Alex. Exhaling sharply, Alex says, “I just. . . felt weird today, when we were at the game.”
She says it like a confession she wanted to keep to herself, practically mumbling the words out as if embarrassment weighs them down. But I hear her loud and clear. “How come?”
“Idon’t know. It just came out of nowhere,” she stresses. “I mean, we were surrounded by all of these people that I was suddenly comparing myself to—and Ineverdo that. I don’t have pity parties or look at someone and think,oh, they’re better than me.”
Her frustration is evident, and it only makes me want to understand her more, because it’s clear that she’s struggling with this. “So, what made you do that today?” I inquire, hating that she felt that way even for a second.
Alex’s throat works, gaze meeting mine. Something akin to confusion and defeat flashes across her face when she asks me, “What are you doing with me, Leo?” Another humorless laugh escapes her. “You can have whoever you want. What are you doing with your daughter’s nanny?”
I am reminded of dinner, when she voiced similar doubts and then apologized for it. Hearing it all again doesn’t anger me. If anything, I want to reassure Alex that her worries and concerns, although valid, should not be weighing her down so much. “You gotta stop seeing yourself asjustLilah’s nanny,” I say gently with a shake of my head, a fondly exasperated smile tugging at my mouth as I look down at her. “I know how much your work means to you, but your job doesn’t define who you are, Alex. It’s not what anyone sees you as—especially not me.”
“I know,” Alex whispers, gaze lowering from mine. “But it’s hard. Especially when. . .Ifwe get to the point where we don’t want to keep this a secret anymore, then that’s all everyone else will see it as. And then I’lldefinitelylose my job and it’s just. . . It’s so risky.”
A sting snaps through me at her use ofif—ifwe get to the point. As well as the reminder of her losing her job if the world finds out about us being together. Despite myself, hurt blooms through my chest, a lot more painful than I expected for it to be, and my hands slowly slide off Alex’s arms and, although my body protests, I take a step back.
Alex’s gaze instantly snaps up to meet mine at the little space I put between hers. I hate the anxiety that dims her eyes, my jaw working. Tension tightens the air as I ask, “If there’s so much at risk for you, then why even bother with this, Alex?”
“Bother?” she repeats, blinking up at me in disbelief. I know I’ve chosen the wrong words, because indignation fires up in her eyes. “You make it sound like it’s so easy for me, Leo, to choose between pushing aside my career or pushing away my feelings for you and come to a nice, clean solution where I get everything I want.”
My jaw tightens even more. “What’s saying that you can’t?”
