Strong Enough

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Strong Enough Page 22

by Melanie Harlow


  “You do. You have. This means everything to me—being with you.”

  He kissed me again, his hands tight around the back of my neck. “You might have to be patient with me.”

  “I’ll do anything for you.”

  “Stay the night.” He buried his face in my neck. “I can’t let you go yet.”

  “Okay, baby.”

  “And tomorrow, will you come with me to Gage and Lanie’s for their son’s birthday party? Ellen said you could have the day off.”

  A shiver moved through me. “Are you serious? You’re ready for that?”

  “I’m ready. I want to be with you, Maxim. I love you, and fuck anyone who says it’s not right.”

  “What about your parents?”

  He sat back and looked at me. It was dark, but I could see his serious expression. “Fuck anyone who says it’s not right,” he repeated. “No matter who it is. This is who I am. You are who I love. It’s right.”

  My throat got tight, and I nodded, swallowing hard. “It’s right.”

  Thirty-Eight

  DEREK

  I parked along the street as close to Gage and Lanie’s house as I could get and turned off the car. My heart was beating a little quicker than usual, but I had no qualms about this decision.

  “Ready?” I looked over at Maxim, who seemed much more nervous about it. His hands were fidgety, and he kept chewing his bottom lip.

  But he nodded. “Ready.”

  We got out, and I grabbed the gift from the back seat. It was a perfect summer afternoon, sunny but not sweaty hot, a breeze coming from the hills. As we made our way down the sidewalk toward the house, I heard music and splashing and shouting.

  “The kids can be a little crazy,” I said apologetically.

  “I’m used to kids. I’ve got a little sister.”

  “That’s right, sometimes I forget that. I’d like to meet her.”

  He laughed. “She’d love that. Maybe she can come visit me. Stay in my fancy apartment.”

  “I meant to ask you about that last night, but I kept getting distracted by your body.” I elbowed him playfully. “Do you want to keep your apartment?” We turned up the driveway, and the noise got louder. “It’s totally up to you. I loved having you live with me, and you could save money, but I know you like your independence too.”

  “Let me think about it,” he said. “I appreciate the invitation, but it might be good to have our own places for a while.”

  It would mean we would have to work harder to see each other, but I didn’t want to push. I knew he didn’t want to go backward, and I was willing to work for him. I took his hand and led him around the house toward the yard.

  He squeezed my fingers. “You okay? You seem so calm, but I know this can’t be easy.”

  God, he was so fucking sweet. I paused in the shade on the side of the house and gave him a quick kiss. “I’m a little nervous, yes. But it’s the good kind of nervous. I’m excited. And proud. This morning, I woke up and felt completely happy. It almost feels like a new life. Our life. And this is just the beginning.”

  He smiled at me, the same warm, grateful smile he’d melted my heart with the night we’d met. “I love you.”

  I’d never grow tired of hearing that. “I love you, too.”

  We moved out of the shadows and into the sunlit yard hand in hand.

  Epilogue

  DEREK

  “Want to sit here for a few minutes?” I asked, glancing at two Adirondack chairs on the lawn at the Laguna Beach Ritz Carlton, as if I hadn’t already chosen it as the perfect spot. “Watch the sun set before we go to dinner?”

  “Sure.” Maxim smiled, and my heart beat faster, the way it always did. But tonight was different.

  We were celebrating six months together, the sale of the house I’d fixed up, and the completion of his first course in screenwriting.

  We were also about to get engaged, but he didn’t know that.

  We sat down side by side, and I took a drink from the glass of champagne in my hand before setting it on the table between us. Maxim set his down too, and pulled out his phone to take a few pictures of the pink and orange sky as the sun sank beneath the hazy blue horizon. It was a pleasantly cool fall evening, wind rustling the palm trees overhead, the temperature hovering around sixty, but my skin felt warm beneath my jeans and gray sports jacket. I was glad I hadn’t worn a tie.

  “I almost forgot how beautiful it is here.” He shook his head as he put his phone back into his jacket pocket. “A photo could never capture it.”

  I reached over and took his hand. “No. It couldn’t.”

  He looked over at me, his blue eyes appearing even deeper in the fading light. “I’m remembering when we were here last time.”

  I smiled. “We’ve come a long way since then.”

  “We have.” He looked out over the ocean again. “Every morning I wake up and wonder if it’s all just a dream.”

  “I do the same. But then I open my eyes and you’re there next to me, and I know it’s real.” Waking up next to him every morning was a gift I’d never take for granted. He’d kept his own apartment for a couple months, but after that I’d begged him to move in with me. We spent almost every night together anyway, and the nights we didn’t, I missed him too much. I’d wasted enough time, and I didn’t want to squander any more of it.

  Not that the road here had been easy. My friends and siblings had accepted our relationship without question, but my parents were still struggling. At first they’d been mostly confused, then they’d ignored it, as if by refusing to acknowledge the truth it might simply go away. My father thought it was part of the “lunacy” that had caused me to cut back my hours at work so I’d have more time to devote to the house I’d bought, and told me I needed to go talk to a priest, like the devil had possessed me or something. But I stood my ground, stating that Maxim was part of my life now, and if they wanted a relationship with me, they had to accept him, too.

  They were slowly coming around—we’d been invited to Thanksgiving dinner and it had gone well, if a little awkwardly—and it was Maxim who always reminded me to have patience with them. Give them time, he’d say whenever I got frustrated with their reluctant support. Remember, it was hard for you too at first.

  He had the biggest heart of anyone I’d ever known.

  We finished our champagne as the sun disappeared, bathing the lawn in twilight. “Should we go?” he asked, squeezing my hand.

  “Yes.” But once we stood, I turned to face him and slid my arms around his waist. “Just a second. There’s something I want to say.”

  “Of course.”

  My legs trembled slightly as I took a deep breath. “Before you came into my life, I didn’t know who I was. I had this idea about who I wanted to be, and I tried hard to fit that mold, but I never felt right in my skin. I think one of the reasons I was so concerned about neatness and order in my life on the outside was because I had no control over the inside. I didn’t trust myself to feel the right things, so instead I focused on being perfect in other people’s eyes, because I could never be perfect in my own. And I never let anyone see the real me.”

  Maxim put both arms around me, pressing his lips to my shoulder.

  “Then I met you. For the first time, I trusted someone with all of me. I let someone in. And I did it because I looked at you and saw the part of myself I’d never understood and thought was wrong, but it was beautiful. Finally, with you, because of you, the pieces of me all made sense.” My chest and throat grew tight. “I fell in love with you that very moment, and it happens all over again every time I look at you.” I released him and reached into my pocket for the ring. My shaking fingers closed around the box, and I pulled it out as I dropped to one knee.

  His eyes widened. “Oh my God.”

  “Every single day, I thank God you got on that plane. And your bag was stolen. And my sister called me. I don’t know if I believe in fate, but I believe we were meant to be together, and I wan
t to spend the rest of my life with you.” I opened the box, revealing a thick platinum Cartier band. “Marry me.”

  “Oh my God,” he repeated, his eyes tearing up. “Are you serious?”

  “I’m serious.”

  He closed his hands over mine, leaned forward and kissed me, and I thought my heart was going to explode. “Yes. Yes.”

  I stood up and slid the ring onto his finger, my sight going blurry with tears. He threw his arms around me and we held each other tightly. “Ya lublu tebya,” he whispered, which I knew now meant I love you. “Never in a million years did I think I could be this happy,” he went on, his voice cracking. “You are everything to me. Navsegda.”

  “What’s that one again?”

  “Forever.”

  The lump in my throat grew, and I swallowed hard as we let go. Then I turned him to face the hotel behind us, where Ellen was crouched about a hundred feet away on our second floor balcony, filming the entire episode on her phone. Next to her stood my brother and sister-in-law, and Gage and Lanie, and they all started cheering. “Say hi.”

  “Oh my God.” Maxim put his hands to his face and burst out laughing before embracing me again, burying his face in my neck. “This is the best day of my life.”

  I laughed too. “This is only the beginning, babe. The best is yet to come.”

  A few minutes later, everyone met us out on the lawn with tears and hugs and smiles and more champagne. Ellen made a toast.

  “To my big brother Derek, whom we all thought was being too picky all those years, but who knew all along that perfection was only six thousand miles and one stolen bag away. And to Maxim, for chasing the dream that brought him here and never giving up. I can’t wait to call you my brother.”

  “Cheers!” shouted Gage, prompting a chorus of them.

  “Na zdorovie!” I added, then looked at Maxim. “How did I do?”

  “Perfect,” he said, eyes shining. “You’re perfect.”

  Later, after we’d celebrated at dinner and then some more in the bar, everyone went back to their rooms, and we discovered that ours had been decorated with rose petals and candles, courtesy of the hotel.

  We lit the candles and appreciated it all for approximately one-point-five seconds before falling onto the bed and tearing at clothes. With the last of my psychological barriers broken, sex with Maxim was even more intense, unclouded by thoughts of guilt or shame. My desire for him was something I loved about myself rather than something I hated, and I reveled in all the ways I wanted to express it, whether it was getting inside his body or welcoming him into my own.

  That night we took turns, flip fucking each other in hot, sweaty madness until we couldn’t hold back anymore and watched one another fall apart in the most achingly beautiful moment two people could share.

  Afterward, we lay wrapped in each other’s arms, the balcony door open so we could hear the waves, the candlelight flickering, the air scented with rose petals and sex.

  “I can’t stop looking at the ring on your finger,” I told him, lacing his fingers with mine above my chest.

  “I want to put one on yours.”

  I smiled. “When do you want to get married?”

  “Is tomorrow too soon?”

  Laughing a little, I kissed his forehead. “Probably. But we don’t have to put it off.”

  “Good. I don’t want to wait.” He pressed his lips to my chest for a moment. “I want to be your husband. I want to have a family with you. I want to belong to each other, now and forever.”

  My throat felt thick when I tried to swallow. “I want all of that too.”

  He looked up at me. “And years from now, we can tell our kids the story of the night we met.”

  “We were not a very likely love story,” I said.

  “We were better than that.” He kissed my lips, and I felt it in my soul. “We were a real love story, and those never end.”

  I kissed him back, my heart swelling like the ocean, vast and full and deep.

  THE END

  Acknowledgments

  I am so grateful to the following people:

  To David, co-author and friend, thank you for taking this journey with me, for creating characters I fell in love with, and for lessons in Russian, birthday cake, and gardening. I could never have told this story without you. Ya lublu tebya! (How did I do?)

  To Kayti, Laurelin, and Sierra, thank you for reading my words, laughing at my jokes, and understanding every single one of my multiple personalities. Noir Mel doesn’t have feelings, but if she did, they’d all be for you.

  To Crimson, LeAnn, Margaret, Melissa, and Melanie, thank you for the constant support, encouragement, and inspiration (oh, the inspiration). You’re the best crew ever. #gayngsters

  To Jenn, Nina, Sarah, Shannon and the entire team at Social Butterfly, you’re amazing at what you do! Thanks for helping me get noticed in a crowded room.

  To Nancy, thanks for quick and fantastic editing. Someday I will give you more time. (This is probably not true, but I feel like I should say it.)

  To Rebecca, for endless cheerleading no matter what I do.

  To Flavia, for being the magical unicorn of foreign rights.

  To Letitia, for another gorgeous cover and putting up with my requests.

  To the incredible authors who found time to read early and offered such generous support: Sierra, Sarina, Ella, Brooke—you inspire me!

  To Melissa Gaston, for taking this ride with me and driving this train when I can’t. None of this would be possible without what you do for me every single day.

  To my husband and kids, I love you more than bacon. That’s a lot.

  To my readers, who see beauty and worth in every kind of love story. I promise to keep them coming.

  M.H.

  Thank you to Melanie Harlow for being my friend and my partner in crime, and for bringing out the best in every love story.

  D.R.

  About the Authors

  Melanie Harlow writes sexy, emotional romance about strong, stubborn characters who can’t help falling in love. She’s addicted to bacon, gin martinis, and summer reading on the screened-in porch. If she’s not buried in a book or binging on Netflix, you might find her running, putting a bun in someone’s hair, or driving to and from the dance studio. She lives outside Detroit with her husband and two daughters.

  For David Romanov, STRONG ENOUGH is to a great extent autobiographical. Born in Russia and raised in Europe, he landed in the United States at the age of 24, where he learned a lot about cultural differences between East and West. David firmly believes in the one and learning through love. When he isn’t traveling or educating Melanie in Russian culture, he enjoys books and the company of his husband and dog in Los Angeles.

  Bonus: Author Q and A

  Melanie, how did this co-writing project come about?

  M: David came up with the idea and pitched it to me, and I loved the premise so much I knew I wanted to write it, but I didn’t want to do it alone. I felt like his perspective was critical, since much of the story was autobiographical for him, and I’d never written M/M before. I was nervous! Having him along for the journey made me feel more confident. I was also looking to branch out, write something different, challenge myself. So it was perfect timing.

  David, had you ever thought about writing a romance before? Will you write again?

  D: I’d never thought of it before. In fact, I am not even a fiction kind of guy. But Melanie changed that—her books are more than just a story. I admire what she does and being a part of her book is an honor for me. So never say never!

  Melanie, you’ve never co-authored before. What was the collaborative process like?

  M: It was fantastic. I had a feeling it might be a challenge for me, since I had never co-written and really like control, but because he and I brought such different things to the table, our process was easy once we got the hang of it. David was the creative force behind the characters, the plot, many ideas for scenes and conversat
ions, and of course all things Russian! I was more comfortable on the sentence level, since I had writing experience (and English is my first language, LOL), so he would send scenes or ideas to me and I’d flesh them out into chapters. There was a lot of back and forth to ensure we were depicting the characters authentically.

  David, what was it like working with Melanie on this book?

  D: Incredibly inspiring. Not a single time did she tell me I was wrong, but her own example always made me want to be better. She is an terrific writer, real friend, and the best partner in crime ever. To be completely honest, I didn’t think she was serious when she suggested we co-write the book, and I had no idea how we were going to complete it on time. We actually finished it two days before the deadline. I have infinite respect for her as an author.

  For both of you, what was the best part of co-writing?

  M: We laughed a lot! And I loved having a partner to come up with ideas when I got stuck. Sometimes he would suggest something and at first I’d be like, “No, that won’t work.” But then after giving it some thought, I’d realize he was totally right! David might not have writing experience, but he has great instincts when it comes to character and story. I also learned a LOT writing this book.

  D: On top of rolling on the floor laughing my butt off most of the time? Reading my ideas in Melanie’s flawless execution. Somehow she knew exactly what I was trying to say and several times a thought crossed my mind that she’s a telepathist. Teaching her about the in-and-out of gay things and Russian lifestyle was a lot of fun.

  M: I repeat. I learned A LOT.

  Melanie, were there specific things you had to teach one another about?

 

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