I let out a strangled sound when she suddenly threw her arms around my neck after crawling into my lap. She squeezed hard enough I struggled to breathe for a minute while she showered tiny kisses all over my face.
“I told myself you loved me. I reminded myself over and over again that even if you hadn’t said the words, you showed me in a million different ways that you loved me. You fought for us, fixed us. I had no idea how badly I needed to hear you say it. I feel like I can breathe now.” She rested her forehead against mine and exhaled a deep breath. “Hearing you say you love me makes leaving a little bit easier.”
I wrapped my arms around her waist in a loose hug and held her while she took a moment to pull herself together.
I was used to picking up and taking off at a moment’s notice. I kept things in my life simple for that very reason. I felt like kicking my own ass for not considering Langley might need something more concrete from me than the reassurance I was sticking with her before she left. She joked that she wasn’t asking me for a ring when we talked about the house, but maybe she should have that kind of tangible promise from me before we were separated for Lord only knows how long. I was nowhere near ready for marriage, but when I was, there was no question Langley was the one I wanted walking down the aisle toward me.
I needed to think about what I could do to show her we would be fine. But right now, I needed to get her up off the floor and get her stuff put in boxes. I was going to help her pack, make sure she had some food in her, then I was taking her to bed so I could show her, once again, how much I loved her.
I had no trouble expressing myself when it came to the physical side of our relationship. I was still learning how to give her what she needed when it came to words and emotional support.
I was never going to be the guy who was good enough for her, but she would never find anyone willing to work as hard as I would to make her happy.
Langley
“I like your friends,” I told Iker as he opened the door to his apartment and led me inside with a hand at my lower back.
“I’m glad, but we didn’t have to spend your last night here with them.” He flipped on the lights as he walked through the apartment, then headed to the kitchen.
“I’d hardly call stopping to have one beer with them after dinner spending my last night with them,” I teased, walking around my overnight bag to drop my purse on the kitchen table. “Besides, I thought we agreed not to do the whole sad, mopey, last night together thing, right?”
“Right. I forgot. Beer or soda?” he asked, his head in the refrigerator. His tone was just shy of curt, which was pretty much how the whole evening had gone after he’d gotten home after work. Not that I blamed him, I was moody and on edge too.
“Soda,” I answered. Driving to Austin bright and early with a hangover didn’t sound like my idea of fun. Today had already been enough to drive me to drink. Saying goodbye at the shelter had been rough, and walking away from Einstein had been nearly impossible. But I had no idea what kind of hours I’d be working in Texas, and that meant I couldn’t commit to caring for him. I’d stopped for lunch with my family, which equated to Camille sobbing hysterically—thank you, pregnancy hormones—and Dad choking up as he hugged me goodbye.
Not going to lie, that hit me just as hard, and I’d been in tears driving back to Iker’s. Now I was the one with his key, since I’d officially vacated my apartment two days ago. The only thing holding me here in Colorado was Iker, and we both knew it. But my job started in less than a week, and though the papers had been signed on the house, I still had to get everything moved in and settled before starting work.
He shut the fridge and handed me a Coke, then opened his own. “I’d like to be able to remember tonight,” he explained with a wry grin as he lifted his soda and leaned back against the cabinet. “Not that being drunk wouldn’t help.”
“I’m so sorry.” I took a sip of my drink and set it on the counter opposite him.
“For what?” He pushed his sleeves up, exposing all that ink I loved to trace.
“For putting us through this.” I shrugged. “For us finally having a shot and me just…” I made a gesture with my hands like a bomb, and gave him the sound effects to match. “You know, blowing it all up in our faces.”
“Stop. You didn’t even know I was going to ambush your life when you took that job.” He swallowed and looked away. Something was itching just under his surface, and I started to wonder if maybe there was more to it than just me leaving in the morning.
“Iker, is everything okay? Other than the obvious?”
“Yep, it’s all fine.” He took a swig of his Coke like it was a beer, and glared at the floor.
“Please don’t think that I haven’t thought about turning it down at least a few dozen times.” More, to be honest.
His gaze snapped to mine. “Don’t go there. I know what this job means to you and your future. There’s zero chance in hell I would have let you turn it down to stay here for me.”
He said it with such vehemence that I blinked a few times.
“I appreciate that, but there’s a part of me that’s so pissed at myself.” I wrapped my arms around my stomach.
“You have nothing to be pissed about.” And he was staring at the wall again. Great.
“Sure, I do. Yes, this job is amazing for my future, but what if my future would be just as amazing if I chose you instead?”
His jaw locked and his hands gripped the counter so hard, his knuckles turned white.
“What if the lesson I’m supposed to be learning is that it’s not the job I’m supposed to be risking everything for, it’s you? It’s love? Isn’t that what all the songs are about? And the sappy movies? I’m supposed to start to drive away tomorrow morning, only to throw my car into park and cry that I can’t go, right?”
“That shit only works out in movies, Langley. Real life doesn’t happen like that. Real life is about your job, and how you provide for yourself and your family. And you know what? Real life doesn’t give a shit about love. We’re on our own for that.” He didn’t quite stomp out of the kitchen, but it wasn’t his most graceful exit either.
“Iker?” I followed him into the living room, where he stood staring at three of my suitcases lined up next to the door.
“I tried,” he said quietly, staring at my Samsonite like it was the enemy.
“You tried what?”
“I tried doing the big romantic thing people do at the end of movies.” He tucked his thumbs into the pockets of his jeans.
“I thought showing up at graduation out of nowhere was pretty successful, plus the pineapples.” I approached him like I would have a wounded tiger, knowing his claws were out and he was looking to swipe.
“That’s not what I’m talking about.” He sighed and shook his head. “I had my First Sergeant put in a request to branch to transfer me to Texas.”
“You did?” My heart practically flew—
“It was denied. I found out this morning.”
—and abruptly crashed. “Oh,” I said softly. Funny how I didn’t realize how badly I wanted it until it had been a possibility, even for the most remote of seconds.
“Yeah, oh. It appears that infantry guys are needed here, right where I already am, so there’s no point moving me all the way to Texas when there’s no open slot. It’s all about money and the needs of the U.S. Army. We’re not exactly seen as individuals at my rank.”
My chest tightened as I crossed the distance between us and put myself right in front of him, staring up into those endless brown eyes. “You really did that for me? Asked to uproot your whole life just to follow me?” My voice ended on a whisper.
“It’s not like I have a lot to uproot, right?” He was still focused on the suitcases behind me, anger coming off him in nearly palpable waves.
“Don’t do that. Don’t belittle what you’ve done, or the life you’ve made for yourself here. Your career is on the fast track, and you have phenomenal friends w
ho care about you. The fact that you were willing to even try to move for me means more than you’ll ever know.” I tried my hardest, but couldn’t breech that hard-as-steel wall he had up right now.
“I am totally and completely powerless in my own fucking life. I have no say in where I live, or what I do. I can’t even follow the woman I love to an area with a damned army post within forty-five minutes of where she’s living. Completely. Fucking. Powerless.”
My mind raced. There really was a base that close. “Isn’t there someone higher up that you could—”
“Do I look like the kind of guy who’s going to go begging for favors?” His eyes narrowed, but at least they were finally on me. “Everything I have, I’ve made on my own. I’ve earned it. I’ve worked my ass off for every single tiny thing in my life, and this…Langley, I can’t work for this. Being with you is the one thing I can’t seem to manage, no matter how hard I fucking try. Not before, when I had to deploy, and not now, when I can’t follow you. Even if there was someone I could ask a favor from, it doesn’t matter. You don’t get it. The army sees me as a Type One soldier, and they need Type One soldiers here at Carson. They’re all full up on Type One’s at Hood. There is literally nowhere for me to go.”
“Okay,” I said softly.
“It’s not okay! What are we going to do?” The anger stamped in every line of his expression was laced with a very real and tangible fear.
I rose on my toes, cupped his cheeks in my hands, and kissed his lips gently. Then I did it again, until he responded, his arms coming around my back. “We’re going to do the same thing we were doing yesterday, Iker. We’re going to talk every day, and visit as often as we can.”
“You’re not going to be able to take off a lot at a new job, and I only get one four-day weekend a month. That’s it. And this last month has spoiled me, Vaughn. I need more time with you than a weekend a month.” His forehead rested on mine, and I slid my fingers to the back of his neck, running my thumbs down the corded muscles to relieve some of his tension. “What if you decide I’m not worth it? That there’s someone there who fits into your life? What if you decide we really are cursed and fall out of love with me?”
“I have that same exact fear.”
He scoffed. “You are irreplaceable.”
“You are, too. I missed you every single day you were gone,” I told him, holding him in place when he tried to pull away. “I must have read that letter you left me at least a thousand times. The damn thing is still in my glove box.”
His eyes flared.
“Yep, you can go and read it just for fun, if you like.”
“I think I’ll pass.” A corner of his mouth lifted.
“Point is, I fell in love with you in a week, Iker. A week. And I fought it after you left, but it didn’t matter. Nothing I did worked, and even though I’d convinced myself that I was okay, I knew the minute you walked into graduation that all my healing was all a big fucking lie. I never fell back into love with you because I never stopped. I loved you for nine months across half the world, with zero contact and less than zero encouragement from you. I couldn’t fucking stop. So, trust me, getting to hear your voice, and see you on FaceTime, and even get my hands on you once a month isn’t a curse; it means we’re incredibly lucky.”
“Lucky,” he repeated after I kissed him again.
“Instead of thinking about how often you can’t kiss me, just think back on those nine months you were deployed.”
“They sucked.”
I laughed. “Yes, I know. But now think about the fact that instead of wondering what I’m doing, or who I’m kissing, and then kicking yourself for leaving me very naked and very willing in that hotel room, you know that I’ll be in the house you helped choose, thinking about you. Missing you, and wearing the hoodie you don’t yet know I’ve stolen from you—”
“Wait, you what?”
“And once a month, you get to kiss me. You get to make love to me. You get to know that you’re the only man I could ever possibly want. Now isn’t that better than not having any of it?”
His lips pursed, but he finally nodded. “I’m greedy.”
I smiled, then rose on my toes and brushed my mouth over his. “Then be greedy about the time we have left, and take me to bed. Don’t make me miss you before I have to.”
“I can do that.” He lifted me in his arms and kissed me the whole way to his bedroom with slow, deliberate, care.
He kissed me like I wasn’t leaving tomorrow. Like we had days—or years—to do this. Like there was no clock or calendar, just this moment, this touch, this brush of our tongues, and this sigh.
He worked me out of my clothes and then stripped his away, and he still kept our pace unhurried. He savored every gasp as he tested his teeth along my neck, then returned to the spots that had me arching. When I reached for him, he shook his head at me and continued the onslaught of caresses, learning my curves all over again.
My back arched and my hands gripped his hair as he set his mouth over me. Holy shit. The things he did with his teeth and tongue were simply inhuman. Then I forgot about the suitcases and the alarm. The only thoughts in my head were yes and more. He drove into me with his tongue, then traded it for his fingers, using both to bring me to a clawing orgasm that had me chanting his name.
And once I came down from that high, he paused as he held himself above me, balanced on his elbows, my hips cradling his.
“I love you. You know that, right?” he asked, his muscles locked and straining, tiny beads of sweat manifesting on his skin from the exertion of holding back.
“I know,” I said, running my fingers down the side of his cheek. “I love you, too.”
He smiled, and my belly tightened at the light in his eyes and that dimple that popped out with perfect timing. Then he slid inside me and the smiles were gone, replaced by hungry kisses and breathy moans.
He moved with power and patience, building me up again carefully with each thrust of his hips and brush of his lips, until I braced my hands against his headboard so I had better leverage. Then I gave him exactly what he was giving me, meeting him as his hips pistoned faster and harder.
“Langley, I need you with me,” he growled in my ear as he slid his thumb in between us and worked my clit, spiraling that pleasure in my belly to its breaking point, until I writhed and whimpered.
Until I clenched around him as I came, and took him right over the edge with me.
This was worth working for, worth waiting for. Worth scheduling my life around. Having him in my life was worth any cost the fates demanded. I’d pay it if it meant I had his heart, his mind, and his arms.
Much later, when the clock read the early hours of the morning, I snuck out of his bed and threw on his shirt, then softly tiptoed to the kitchen. I found a pad of paper and an envelope, then sat at the table.
I wanted him to have a letter he could hold on to, one he could read and remember me by. One he could cherish the way I treasured his. I was going to pour my heart and soul out onto a piece of paper and leave it somewhere he would easily find it.
Iker,
As I sit here writing, I wonder if this is how you felt that morning you were the one who had to leave. I feel gaping, empty, raw, and yet so full of everything you’ve given to me. I’m so heartbroken to be leaving you, and yet so thankful that it’s not goodbye as much as it is a “see you later.”
This is the key to our house in Texas. I say ours because that’s how I’ll think of us, one heart stretched across 850 miles and two homes. I want you to see this key as you walk out of this apartment every morning, and remember that it unlocks another door in another state, where I’ll be dreaming of you. And yes, I’ll still be dreaming because you get up entirely too early.
Maybe our lives have been too vastly different in the past, but that stops now, because we’re forging a new life, one where we’ll take the best parts that we love from each, and leave the bullshit behind too. We can make this whatever we want, whatev
er we’re willing to fight for.
See these? They’re the cufflinks you wore that night. Yes, I kept them. They were a reminder that you were real, and though the pain was too, you brought so much more to my life, and that was worth remembering. Worth holding on to. I’m returning them to you with the very same hands I’m using to hand you my heart. I hope they remind you that you don’t just fit into my world, you shake it on its axis. No, you don’t have to wear them, though I’ll be the first to say that you’re just as delicious in a tux as you are in jeans. But you in a uniform! Just the thought makes me want to wake you up again right now.
I love you, Iker Alvarez. I know we won’t always wake up in the same bed, but I’ll always wake up loving you wherever you are. Here’s to our future and what we make of it.
No goodbyes.
XOXO,
Langley
“Text me when you stop for gas,” Iker told me, his arms around me as he leaned back against my car door.
“I will.”
“Don’t speed through the little towns. Cops in small towns are assholes when you speed.”
“I won’t.”
“Remember to take breaks. Don’t get too tired, and don’t be afraid to stop at a hotel if you’re feeling sleepy. I’d rather know my girlfriend is alive in a random town than dead in Austin.”
“Okay.” I laughed softly, burying my nose in his neck. I committed everything about this moment to memory. The way he smelled, the scratch of his uniform’s patches against my skin, the deep timbre of his voice rumbling through my ears and heart. My eyes prickled with tears I’d fought against shedding all morning.
“Call me if anything goes wrong.” His arms squeezed tighter.
“What, so you can jump down and change a tire?” I teased.
“Don’t doubt my powers, Langley Vaughn. Texas is my state, remember?” He kissed my head, and I decided not to remind him it was the second largest state in the union, thus making his claim outrageous and implausible, no matter how sweet it was.
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