Becoming Us: Where It All Began.

by Amy Daws

  “I can’t freaking…” I start.

  “I want you to not date anyone else.” He cuts off my sentence before I have a chance to finish.

  “What?” I ask, feeling like I didn’t hear him right.

  His voice is quiet and low, “I want you…to not date anyone else. Especially that Jake guy.”

  “You’re asking to be exclusive?” I feel the heavy, uneasiness lifting off of me in slow swoops.

  “Yeah, I mean. I don’t know where you’re at, or how available you even are. Are you like, seeing him or something?” There’s that tick in his jaw again.

  I shake my head, my eyes wide in amazement.

  “Well, were you? ‘Cause I heard he slept with your friend behind your back or something.” His face is surly.

  “Oh, my God, would you please stop?” I ask, placing my hand over his lips.

  “Well, I just need to know,” he mumbles against my hand, barely coherent.

  “Don’t ruin this,” I say, widening my eyes seriously at him. When he relaxes, I remove my hand.

  “I don’t want to see anyone else. And I need you to want that too,” he adds, sullenly.

  “I’m in,” I say, nodding my head with a grin and threading my fingers with his.

  “Are you sure you’re ready or whatever?” He looks down at our hands with a sad expression on his face. “‘Cause I don’t want to be strung along again. I can’t take it. And I can’t take the idea of you still having a thing for that guy. If that’s the case, you need to tell me now because I’m serious about this, Finley. I’m serious about us.”

  “You asked me out for the first time with a frown. And now you’re asking me to be my boyfriend with a frown. Is this really how our relationship is going to be? If so, I need to have a word with my boyfriend,” I say, my eyes wide in challenge.

  He attempts to conceal a smirk. His face looks so damn sexy, I can’t help myself. I grab his cheeks and lay a hard, smacking kiss on him.

  “If it means you’ll keep saying yes, I’ll be a pouty bitch as often as it takes,” he murmurs against my mouth.

  “You’re lucky you’re hot.” We both laugh and he pulls me into his chest.

  “I like you calling me your boyfriend,” he says smugly. Relief washes through me at the clear label he just put on us. The uncertainty of our relationship is gone. We are defined. And it feels damn good.

  ***

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Time flies for the next month and a half. Brody and I slip into a comfortable routine with each other—typically involving him in my bedroom, doing homework, or at least attempting to. We go out to eat a lot, and sometimes order in. We’ve become hermits, but I can’t help it—I’m smitten!

  And my time with Brody feels so important. I feel myself becoming more confident and at ease with myself. I laugh more with him than I ever have with past boyfriends. It’s like he brings out the best parts of me. The parts that make me confident, and happy—even when we act like total idiots. Yes, I’m doing the typical, falling off the face of the planet because I have a boyfriend thing. And Angela is giving me the stink eye quite frequently. But this feels right. It feels major.

  Brody pulls me out of that awkward and uncertain place Jake dropped me in only six weeks ago. Six weeks ago feels like years ago in my head now. That’s how changed I feel. That is what I love most about my time with him.

  Thankfully, Jake doesn’t attempt to call or text. Class is still slightly awkward, but getting easier. I think I wounded him when I cracked open my own textbook in class one day. He pretty much iced me out completely after that.

  Jake is a sore subject for Brody, especially after he found out through someone else that we have a class together. That was the first time I’d seen a glimpse of Brody’s jealous side—the part of him that had been so damaged by his cheating exes. How two girls could cheat on him is beyond me. Brody is everything. He is sexy and funny as hell, what more could you need?

  Angela constantly gives me shit about all the giggling behind my closed door. Truthfully, I feel embarrassed thinking of her hearing all the dumb stuff Brody and I do together. One night, I dared him to speak in a British accent for the rest of the night. At first, he didn’t even consider humoring me, but I upped the ante by offering a sexual incentive. He jokingly told me to buggar off because we were supposed to be taking it slow, but when I whispered in his ear what I had in mind, he suddenly became very fluent in Brit.

  Not having sex with Brody is killing me. It feels like a slow, painful death. I have to put the brakes on several of our heavy petting sessions because I know if I don’t, we’ll be kicking ourselves later. Even Brody is on board with this waiting game. We both know, the longer we wait, the more special it will be. The buildup is exhilarating.

  ***

  Brody and I are supposed to be in my bedroom studying, but so far, all we’ve done is discuss the last episode of Dexter. We’re sprawled out on my bed, like most nights. I’m wearing a simple camisole and linen pajama pants, and Brody is in his standard jeans and white undershirt. Damn, I love him in those undershirts. They are thin and soft and leave little to the imagination. I’ve seen him without his shirt on a few times by now, but since I can’t very well ask him to walk around shirtless, these thin undershirts are an excellent alternative.

  “Why do you wear stuff like this?” he asks, stroking his thumb along the hem of my teal camisole. “It shows your bra.”

  I frown hard at him. “And what—seeing my bra is so offensive to you?” I grip my leg around his hip in challenge.

  His eyebrows raise at my reaction. “Never, babe. Never. I just don’t see the point of wearing something that shows off your bra.”

  “So, what are my alternatives?” I inquire skeptically. This should be good.

  “I’m glad you asked,” he chortles shamelessly and hops up onto his knees, preparing himself for a speech. I grin at his adorable enthusiasm. “You see…I think you’re better off just going completely without. I mean, your breasts are very likely to stay inside the tank top, correct?” The corners of his mouth turn down, unsuccessfully attempting to conceal a smirk.

  “Are you asking me if my bosoms will spring out of this tank top if I remove this bra—like they have a mind of their own?” I ask incredulously.

  He sits back on his haunches and closes his eyes hard, like he’s in pain. “Babe, easy on the descriptions, please.”

  I giggle at his pained expression. “Well, you can forget it. I’m not taking my bra off,” I mock indignation, and Brody cocks an eyebrow.

  “Seriously…I feel like this would be a really good experiment, for future snuggle sessions. Or even just fashion tips. That tank top looks like it can hold your tits in just fine on its own. But since you seem to be unsure, I think it’s best to just test the theory.”

  He crawls over top of me and I ball my arms and hands in front of my chest. “No way! What are you doing? Get awaaaay!” I squeal and squirm as he attempts to squeeze his hand between my back and the mattress to my bra clasp.

  I wiggle free from his grasp and jump off the bed, standing in a defensive stance. “Down, Fido!” He turns on his side, his lips puckered in determination.

  Because I don’t know when to quit, I say, “We both know you’re not nearly smooth enough to unclasp a bra with one hand, so what did you think you were going to get done there?”

  His playful face turns suddenly serious. “Oh, Fin.” He tsks and snickers, moving painfully slow to get up off the bed. Now I’m feeling scared. “Those be fightin’ words, babe,” he says.

  He lunges at me and wraps his large arms around my waist. He hauls me down onto the ground, pinning me beneath him. With one hand, he pins my two wrists above my head, while the other is snaking under my cami and up my back to my bra.

  “Brody! You jerk!” I laugh at the tickling sensation his calloused, construction-worker hands cause on my bare skin. Happy tears form in my eyes. I feel the clasp on my bra break free, and my jaw drops
in shock as he looks down at me with the biggest shit-eating grin I’ve ever seen.

  “Oh, Lord, you’re totally proud of yourself right now, aren’t you?” I ask, deadpan, rolling my eyes.

  “You should know better by now, babe.” He bites his lower lip playfully.

  I giggle, feeling those happy tears slip down my temples as he nuzzles his nose softly into my now freed breasts. “Oh I love it here, Finley. So much.”

  I groan and bring my hands to his cheeks. Feeling overwhelmed with an intense feeling of contentment and pure happiness, I pull him close to me. His dopey smile only furthers the emotions bubbling inside me. Before I kiss him, I say, in a happy sigh, “I love us.”

  Brody’s smile falls and his face turns stony serious. My eyes widen as I realize the words that just dribbled out of my mouth without thinking. I’ve been feeling this love word inside of me for nearly a month now, but we’ve only been together just under two. It’s early to be saying things like love! Dammit. Brody’s serious expression makes me sick to my stomach. Why? Why did I have to say that? Jesus.

  Brody’s eyes remain fixed off to the side, not even glancing at me. I squirm to get out from under him. I can’t believe I said that so fast. He obviously doesn’t feel the way I do. Oh my God.

  Slipping back into my old habits, I try to figure out a way to minimize what I just said. I can’t lose Brody over this. I can’t. I have to figure a way out of this. He rolls off of me easily and I awkwardly attempt to get up, my loose bra and breasts feel suddenly embarrassing. I first need to figure out a way to get him to leave without making things awkward.

  Before I can straighten myself, he grabs my wrist and yanks me back down on top of him. I frown, and avoid eye contact, feeling horribly uncomfortable. He tucks my loose brown hair behind my ear.

  “Hey,” he says, breathing against my face. I continue avoiding his gaze in no way prepared for whatever he’s about to tell me. “Hey,” he repeats, and I fix my eyes on him, ready for whatever he’s about to say that’s going to ruin this perfect bubble we’ve been living in for almost two months.

  “I love us, too.” He moves more hair off my face, and secures it behind my ear. “Actually, I think I love us, more than I love you—does that make any sense at all?” He’s nervously gauging my reaction.

  I offer a small smile because it’s all I can do at this point. I swallow hard, trying to contain the intense emotion growing in my heart. I nod silently and blink. Two wet tears slip out of my eyes and slide down my cheeks. He rolls us over and holds himself over top of me.

  “Do you understand what I’m saying, Finley? It means more to me to say it this way. I hope you know what I mean. I need you to understand how this feels. I want to be clear.” He exhales a shaky breath, and says, “I love us. I love what you make me feel. I love what we have become together. I love how you don’t let me get away with shit.” He laughs slightly. “I love what we are together. Now. Right this minute. I love…I love us.” His dark blue eyes dance nervously between my own aqua ones.

  I cradle his face in my hands. My eyes glitter with tears. The intensity of his words feel like they hold the key to everything I’ve been feeling. Hearing him say those words is all the validation I need in our relationship. Brody and I are for real, and being us is something I never ever want to lose.

  “I love us too, Brody.” My voice is thick with emotion. He kisses me in a needy, desperate kiss. As the kiss deepens, I feel something in it that I’ve never felt before. His lips move against mine with a purity and honesty, unlike anything I’ve ever experienced in my entire life. I open my mouth further, and with that, I open my heart as well. I’m allowing all of his emotions and promises to envelope me from the inside out. I don’t know how anyone is ever worthy of this type of love, but I’m taking it.

  Feeling desperate for more, I bring my hands up into his hair and yank slightly, inadvertently breaking our kiss. His eyes flutter open in question. I give him one quick nod, silently telling him I’m ready. I am so ready to make love to Brody and experience sex with someone who consumes my heart.

  He eyes me with adoration for a second, sits up on his knees, and pulls his shirt over his head. I follow him up and drag my hand down his sculpted chest and abs. He combs his fingers through my hair, tugging gently at the nape, just how I’ve told him I love. The first time he did, it was lustful—and sexy as hell. The sensation of him taking control of my body makes me feel safe and desired. I trust him entirely.

  “This is us, Finley,” he says, in a breathy whisper. “Just us.”

  I cry out in an aroused gasp as he locks his lips on mine again. I reach down and pull my tank top and unclasped bra over my head, my hair sprinkling back down onto my naked shoulders.

  Brody looks down at my chest and brings his two hands to my breasts, cupping and massaging reverently. I arch my back into his grasp, letting my head drop back. God, I love my breasts played with. Nothing feels more erotic than arching into his rough hands cupping me. An exaggerated moan exhales out of my mouth.

  “Brody,” I say, looking sensually into his eyes. “I want you. I—I want this.”

  He shakes his head slowly. “You have no idea, Finley. I’ve wanted this like I’ve never wanted anything in my whole damn life.”

  I bite my lip, trying to maintain some semblance of control as our bodies flush together again. Brody’s hand trails slowly down the side of my breast, down my ribcage, and to the hem of my pants. He tickles and teases my hipbone until I’m bucking against him in frustration.

  He laughs against my desperate kiss and slips his fingers deep into my needy center. I break the kiss and cry out, unable to focus on his face or anything but what his hand is doing to my body. We’ve been intimate like this before, but feeling it now, with our love out in the open, brings the intenseness of the act to a higher level. My hands find my breasts and squeeze desperately to get a grip on the building climax inside of me.

  “Babe…are you seriously doing that right now?”

  “What?” I ask, panting, and my eyes flutter open in confusion.

  “I’m not going to last two seconds if you keep touching yourself.”

  I half-smile and bring my hands to his back, grazing my fingernails over his sculpted muscles. He groans slowly and kisses me softly. “Do I need to get a condom? I’m clean, I was checked over a year ago and I haven’t been with anyone since.”

  “Um,” I croak, trying to clear my foggy aroused brain enough to respond coherently. His hand is still inside me for God’s sake. I hate this needed buzz kill in the throws of passion! But I’m glad he cares about this. “No. No, I’m on the pill, and I’m clean too. It’s been even longer for me.”

  He smiles. “I’m glad. I love the idea of our bodies waiting this long for each other.”

  I nod, urgently, “I’m yours, Brody. I’m yours.” I press my hips forward and he pulls back to unfasten his jeans. I would help him but I’m too busy enjoying the seductive image of shirtless Brody and his unzipped pants sliding down his perfectly formed V-region.

  This isn’t the first glimpse I’ve had of his ample erection, but knowing that it’s going inside me this time makes it all the more exciting. He tosses his jeans and my pants. It dawns on me that we easily could have moved to the bed, but the floor seems like a special place now.

  Brody holds himself over top of me, his erection nudging my center.

  “Are you sure, Fin?” he asks, gently nipping at my neck. “Are you sure you’re ready?”

  “Yes, I’m sure.” I pull his face away from my neck to look at me. “I love us. I’m sure.”

  He smirks and his lashes fan his cheeks. He presses himself slowly inside of me. It’s tight, almost painfully so. It’s been so long since I’ve been with someone, my body needs a minute to adjust. As soon as Brody begins rocking back and forth, the pain shifts into pleasure and I cry out.

  “Oh God, Finley,” he croaks. “I’m sorry, baby, I’m not going to last.”

  “Jus
t another minute, just another…” my voice catches when he reaches his hand between our bodies and places pressure on my sensitive nub, rubbing back and forth. I silently scream, biting down onto his shoulder as my orgasm rockets through me. Seconds later, Brody’s climax follows and we both lay still. Our labored breathing is the only noise in the room.

  A soft chuckle vibrates Brody’s chest, “You freakin’ bit me!”

  I laugh and look down at his shoulder and the perfectly oval teeth marks I left on him.

  “Sorry! You kind of surprised me there with your Jedi hand trick.”

  “That’s called close-up magic, babe.” I bark out an unattractive cackle and he pulls back to look into my eyes. The crinkles around his eyes display his sincere happiness in this moment. “I love us, Fin. I want to say that instead of I love you. I kind of want it to be our thing. Don’t get me wrong, I love you. Like crazy, I love you. I just love us a bit more. Is that weird?”

  I rub his cheeks affectionately and feel the sting of tears forming in my eyes at his beautiful words. “No, it’s not weird. It’s us.”

  He smiles proudly and kisses me. “Get ready, round two is going to be even better.”

  I don’t know how it could get any better than that. This all is more than I ever anticipated. This beautiful man loves us more than he loves me. I get it. I feel it in my core, and in my heart…it’s exactly what’s right for us. Finding Brody has made me feel like a better version of myself. Saying I love us means more in our own remote and perfect little world. It means so much more.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Brody took off early this morning to go home and cram before a big test he has today. It was hard letting him out of my bed after we shared such an incredible night, but I knew he’d been neglecting his schoolwork since we met.

  “Welcome to the land of the living!” Angela greets me as I stumble out of my bedroom early Friday morning. She’s sitting on one of our vinyl red barstools, eating a bowl of cereal.