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“Jane?” I whisper.
“Puh-puh-plea…”
“Please?” I say, keeping my voice low.
I can’t wake her violently and scare her if she is still asleep.
She nods, I think. It’s a tiny movement.
“Please?” I say again, and the nod is more deliberate.
She seems paralyzed. I’ve heard of this, though I’ve never experienced it. Following my instincts, I lie beside her, wrap her in my arms, and whisper into her ear.
“Everything is going to be okay,” I tell her. “Whatever’s happening, it can’t hurt you, not with me here to protect you.”
Slowly, her body relaxes, the stiffness leaving her. I’m thankful for that. Terror rages in me at the thought of her suffering in any way.
“I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere,” I whisper as her body relaxes even more.
“Thank you,” she says. “Don’t stop. Please.”
“I’d never want to make you feel trapped,” I go on, my heart breaking as I feel the slow relaxing of her limbs, the dread of her dreams still clinging on. “But the truth is…”
What the hell am I doing? I rush on. There’s no stopping this. I was an idiot for trying.
“You belong to me,” I say fiercely. “When I saw you in that café, my life clicked into place. A puzzle piece I never knew was missing—you, my not-even-a-little-plain Jane—was finally, miraculously there. I saw you, and I knew you belonged to me. Not just your perfect body. Not just your curves. Not just your beautiful smile, but your soul, future, and heart.”
“Don’t stop,” she whispers, rolling over—so she is awake—and cuddling closer to me.
The paralysis has let go, but I’ve gone too far to stop. Plus, she’s not running. She’s clinging onto my back, digging her fingernails like she needs to keep me here.
“Most of all, I knew two things of yours belonged to me, Jane. I can’t explain it. This isn’t a line of code. There’s no logic here, just…”
Love.
“Just fate, as crazy as that sounds. I never believed in it until I met you.”
“What two things?” she whispers, fully awake now, kissing my neck and nuzzling into me.
“Your hand in marriage and your womb.”
I let out a laugh of relief because it feels so good to say it aloud, to let it go from the prison inside where I thought I could keep it.
Then my voice gets deep and serious. “I own both of those. That’s why I almost turn full BM when I think of my PV with another man.”
“There are no other men,” she says. “There never will be. Earlier, were you talking about us? When we were on the floor?”
“You’re going to give me children,” I say passionately. “There’s no doubt about that. Nobody else. Only you. Of course, I was talking about us.”
“Really?” she whispers.
“Doesn’t that scare you?”
“Not even a little. I was lying before. I double-lied. I did have a crush on you for years. I’ve had your photo on my wall for as long as I’ve been coding. I’ve dreamed of all this but never thought it could happen.”
A small, cold voice sounds inside me, explaining that this could just as easily be the trick, the lie, but no, it felt true the first time she told me. It feels true now.
“Your crush means nothing to me,” I tell her. “I don’t care how you felt when you were a kid when you couldn’t possibly choose who or what you wanted. Now, you’re a woman, my woman, and you can choose…”
She looks up, her eyes glassy in the low light, glistening with tears. Unlike when she talked about her childhood, these seem like happy tears, shining with a warmth that has me thinking of the future and all the good times we’ve got waiting for us.
“I choose you,” she says, and then we kiss.
We kiss like we didn’t make a deal, specifically mentioning no kissing until we could let the lust take its path, but now, her hands roam over my body, squeezing my arms and pressing down on me hungrily. She shifts her body against mine, then slows down, keeping her face close as she pauses the kiss.
“Thank you for breaking me out of that spell,” she murmurs. “Part of me thinks I’m still dreaming.”
“This is the real thing,” I say. “That looked terrifying. I’ll have to make sure I’m always here, next to you, when you fall asleep.”
“I’d love that.”
Love. The word has me almost saying it again, has me hungry with the urge, but then her cell phone starts to wail from the bedside table.
“Forgot to put it on silent. Sorry,” she says, rolling over and reaching out for it. “Hmm, it’s Lily.”
“Your old roommate?”
The woman who tried to tip Jane off but had bullied Jane in the past created some understandable doubt.
“Yeah, I think I should answer.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”
She flashes me a smile, her eyes bright, and then answers the phone and puts it on speaker.
