Conventionally Yours (True Colors)

by Annabeth Albert

  Setting his stuff down, Conrad stood in front of me, eyes darting around like he wasn’t quite sure where to look. “My mom watched too. Weird as heck, but apparently Cassie got her to watch the live streams. She said congrats.”

  I tried to school my expression, but my eyes flew wide open at that. I knew how complicated his family situation was, all his tangled emotions, and while I had considerable ire of my own toward them, the only reaction that really mattered was his.

  “That’s… How do you feel about that?”

  “Angry.” He shrugged before rubbing the back of his neck. “Which I know is stupid, but it’s how I feel. It’s too little too late. Where was she all year? I needed someone.”

  “I know.” Moving slowly, I reached out and rubbed his arm, relieved when he didn’t flinch away. “It’s okay to be angry. I’d be angry too. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry you were so alone. I wish I’d realized. Wish I could have helped. Wish we’d…”

  I couldn’t finish the thought, couldn’t give voice to the longing inside me. It felt like we’d wasted so much time, and now seconds were ticking away. We could have connected so much sooner.

  “Maybe it took the trip.” Conrad had apparently added mind reading to his bag of new tricks. “And that’s okay. We got here, you know?”

  “Yeah.” It didn’t feel like so much of a victory to me, not with him slipping away before I’d ever had a chance to really enjoy having him.

  “I’m sorry.” Matching my gesture, he rubbed my upper arm. “For earlier. I was a jerk. And I said a lot of stuff. I was scared and confused, but that’s not an excuse. I was mean to you, and I don’t ever want to be mean to you.”

  “It’s okay,” I said even though it wasn’t, not entirely.

  “I shouldn’t have run. I’m sorry for that. And for thinking you threw the game. I just couldn’t believe I’d actually done it, but I wasn’t fair to you.”

  “You weren’t.” I had to agree from a purely factual level. “I thought you trusted me. We promised. I’m not ever going to break a promise I made you.”

  “I do trust you. I do. I just…I let my fear get the better of me.” He rubbed circles on my biceps, a warm touch that went a long way toward melting my confused jumble of emotions.

  “And I did kind of…blindside you.” I didn’t know how else to apologize for blurting out the l-word.

  “Maybe a little. But that’s not such a bad thing. I had some time to think, and perhaps that’s what scared me the most. Knowing that I really did want you to win and then believing that you wanted that for me too. Realizing what that meant, what’s between us. I didn’t want to feel that way. I don’t want to l—” His voice trailed off abruptly, as if the word itself was painful, as if he couldn’t let himself say it, let alone believe in it. “I don’t want to feel for you.”

  “It’s okay if you don’t.” I tried to sound firm, not defensive. The last thing I wanted was to guilt him into some sort of declaration.

  “I do though. I…care for you. So much.” Pulling me closer, he claimed my mouth in a tender kiss. As usual with us, what started as soft and slow quickly ramped up until we both were breathing hard. “Sorry,” he whispered between kisses. “So sorry.”

  “Not mad. I forgive you,” I said against his lips, surprised at how true it was, but I couldn’t carry a grudge against him. I knew I maybe should have made him work harder at an apology, but I just didn’t have it in me. Maybe he couldn’t say the words, but I believed him that he cared. Believed him that he’d been scared, and I couldn’t fault him for that. No matter where we went from here, I didn’t want to stay angry at him. “And it all worked out. You won.”

  Frowning, he stepped back. “That is not all that matters. Not to me. Knowing you were there, cheering for me, that meant everything, but I’d rather have you than that trophy over there.”

  “You’ve got me.” My voice was thick. He might never know how completely I meant those words. “And you would have had me if you’d lost too. I meant more… You came back. You didn’t let the fear beat you. You came back to play. Came back to me.”

  I had to look away in order to get all that out, and he cupped my face, brought our lips together. “Always.”

  If all our earlier kisses had been little peeks at how good things could be between us, this one was an oracle, a glimpse of a less-than-certain future, but one I wanted desperately. It was the sort of kiss that made everything else fade away—food, water, shelter, nothing else mattered except that kiss. There was little I wouldn’t give up to be able to keep kissing him. Wrapping my arms around his strong shoulders, I clung to him, let the kiss burn past all the doubt and uncertainty of the last few hours until there was only heat and need.

  “Need…” he panted against my lips. “We need to talk.”

  “We did.” I tried to pull him down for another kiss.

  “More, I mean. I need to tell you—”

  “Later.” I had a feeling he was going to tell me about winning a spot on the pro tour, and that was a conversation I just wasn’t ready for, not when we’d just made up, not when my heart was so full of his tender words. I wasn’t ready to have that all snatched away from me or to get bogged down in depressing logistics. No. There was a moment here, and I was going to seize it.

  I claimed his mouth again, swallowing his protest until he was groaning. “Okay, okay. You win.”

  “Maybe we both do.” God, I hoped I was right, and I had to kiss him again before the doubts rose up.

  Eventually, we staggered toward the closest bed, still kissing, losing clothing in the process, until we were lying together, and it felt like it had been years, not hours since I’d felt his skin like this.

  “Wait,” I managed to gasp as his hands got the sort of adventurous I dearly loved.

  “Wait?” He frowned down at me, balanced on his forearm. “This isn’t good?”

  “This is awesome,” I assured him. Crap. He wasn’t making this easy. “I…uh…earlier… I bought…stuff. If you want to…you know.”

  He blinked. “Getting you to say the words might be even more fun than the doing.” Laughing, he lightly tickled me before sobering. “But we don’t have to. Plenty of people don’t go there, even when they’ve been together a long time. And not everyone likes it.”

  “But you do, right?” I wasn’t giving up on this so easily.

  “Yeah. I’ll be honest though… I’ve done other stuff a lot more. I like it, but it’s the sort of thing you need to be sure about. It’s…intimate. Hard to explain, but it’s…personal, no matter which side you’re on. Helps to be sure about who you’re with too.”

  “I’m sure about you,” I persisted, tugging him back closer. “And if this is my one chance, I really want it to be you.”

  “This is not your one chance. There will be plenty of other chances.”

  I didn’t want to think about that right then. Other chances might come my way, but there was only one him. “I want it to be you. And if all we have is this night—”

  “We do not only have tonight.” He gave me a stern look. “Don’t talk like we’re on the Titanic, man. We have plenty of other nights coming our way. Tomorrow night for one, and the one after that too. There’s no rush. It doesn’t have to be tonight.”

  “Well, yeah, we’ve got the trip back to Gracehaven. But…” I swallowed hard, trying to not let emotions overwhelm me and failing miserably. “We should make the most of the time we’ve got, you know? Not waste any.”

  “Alden.” He cupped my face again, made me look at him. “When I say we’ve got time, I mean, we’ve got time. I’m not going anywhere. I’m sorry I was a jerk earlier. But you’ve got me. Tonight and tomorrow and all the nights after that too.”

  It was a sweet thing to say, maybe the sweetest ever. I wasn’t entirely sure I believed him, but I loved him all the more for saying that,
for wanting to be here with me.

  “You’ve got me too. But I’m serious. I want to try. Here. Now.”

  “Can you be more specific about what you want to try?” His eyes were twinkling enough that I could tell any reluctance he had was more about making me talk dirty to him than serious reservations. “How will I know what to do if you won’t say the words?”

  “You know.” Scampering off the bed, probably looking rather undignified, I got the supplies I’d purchased earlier. Safety first and all that. I’d failed at every outdoor and survival activity the moms had tried to push me toward, but I did get a healthy appreciation for being prepared. I threw the small paper bag at the bed and missed, which made Conrad laugh all the harder.

  “Oh, just come off it and fuck me already, Con.” I retrieved the stuff from the floor and flopped back down next to him. “I want to know what it’s like. I’ve waited years for this, and if you need me to chant—”

  “No chanting required.” He was still laughing as he pulled me into his embrace. “I mean, appreciated sure—”

  “Shut up and kiss me.”

  “You’re lucky I love you bossy.” He gave me an affectionate grin right before he claimed my mouth, and I supposed it was almost as good as him saying the actual three words. I was lucky. So lucky. And I wasn’t going to take this moment for granted.

  We kissed and touched, and there was a fair bit of laughing—not all his—as we got back to the heated place we’d been before my request had derailed the proceedings. I’d seen porn. I’d read dirty Odyssey fanfic. I wasn’t completely unfamiliar with the mechanics of what we were going to do, but it was Conrad and it was me and it was us, and that made it new and wonderful. And awkward. Plenty of that too. Bumped knees and too-ticklish ribs and not-warm-enough hands, but there was also magic.

  So much magic.

  “Want you. So much,” he gasped somewhere between kissing my neck and uncovering unexplored nerve endings along my sternum. The desire in his silvery-blue eyes was everything I’d ever wanted, more than I’d dared hope for.

  “Need you.” Want wasn’t enough for what I felt. I needed.

  And maybe he did too because we were kissing again, mouths hungry and feverish. His hand skimmed up and down my sides, then he shifted, using his fingers to skirt all the parts that were straining for attention, dipping lower. There. Yes, there.

  The lube bottle made an embarrassing noise, but I was too turned on to echo his unsteady laughter. Then there was no room for laughter anymore, him kissing me while his talented fingers explored and teased. Magic.

  “Now.” It was a good thing he liked bossy because my tone was rather commanding.

  “Yeah.” His breath was warm on my cheek as he whispered near my ear. “Tell me how you want it. What’s your favorite fantasy?”

  “You.” I wasn’t playing coy—it was him. This moment. It was everything. I wasn’t the type for detailed fantasies to start with, but he’d starred in more than a few of the ones I did have over the years, filthy bits of self-indulgence that always embarrassed me afterward and that I tried to forget. As if I could. And I didn’t have to be embarrassed anymore. He was here, and we were really going to do this. “You. Just like this.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Conrad

  For all his bossiness, Alden wasn’t giving me a ton of direction. But when he said, “You,” and our eyes met, my body vibrated, as if there were more feelings than my skin could contain, so many emotions coursing through me. His trust in me was almost overwhelming. But I believed him, completely.

  “Me too,” I admitted. “Didn’t want to let myself, but yeah… Wanted you so much.”

  “Same.” He moved restlessly against the mattress. “Now. Please. No more waiting.”

  “No more waiting. Can’t believe we’re here.” I peppered his face with kisses before sitting enough to take care of the condom. “Can’t believe this is real life.”

  “Oh, it’s real.” His voice was tight as he arched up toward me, his eagerness making me the impatient one. But I knew enough to go slow. Super slow. As slow as—

  “Killing me. Come on.” And then his back bowed again, body meeting mine, and we were moving together in earnest, all ancient rhythm and brand-new sensations, mingling together. My mouth found his again, swallowing his moans. Despite wanting it to last forever, it was too good to draw out, impossible to keep control. There was no holding back with him, not anymore. He had all of me, everything I had to give.

  And I finally believed that was enough, that I could be enough for him. Exactly as he was to me. He was everything to me. Center of my universe, and not simply in that moment. I felt so, so much for him. More than I could ever put in words, so I tried to show him with my body, telling him over and over how much he meant to me.

  Even without me directing him, he wiggled a hand between us, and him knowing what he wanted and going for it cracked whatever was left of my resolve.

  “There. Don’t stop.” His voice broke.

  As if I could, as if I’d want to, as if…

  All thought ceased as everything peaked at once. Him. Me. Us. Emotions. Bodies. Futures. Pasts. Nothing made any sense, and yet there was a stark clarity that had never been there before. Pleasure shoved every doubt from my brain, pushed past logic and reason until there was only him.

  “Never moving again,” I panted, collapsing next to him, gathering him close. We were both a mess, but I was too boneless to care.

  “I’m inclined to agree.” His eyes were closed, his face relaxed, speech dreamy.

  “You okay?” I kissed his forehead.

  “So okay.” Sighing happily, he snuggled into my side. “I mean, eventually, I’m going to want a shower, but right now… Pretty perfect.”

  “Perfect is right. Shower sounds good.” Eyelids heavy, I yawned.

  My next conscious thought was a warm washcloth brushing over my skin, shower-damp Alden leaning over me on the bed, wet hair sprinkling little droplets onto my stomach.

  “Crap,” I said, slowly rousing. “How long did I nap?”

  “Not that long. I dozed off a little too. You looked too peaceful to drag into the shower.”

  “Are you still doing ok—”

  “Conrad.” He silenced me with a firm kiss. “I’m not made of tissue paper. I’m fine. Promise. I wanted that. It was…everything.”

  “Yeah it was.” I tugged him back down to me, wet head and towels and all. “We probably need dinner, but I’m still good with the whole never-leaving-bed-again plan.”

  “You’ll have to move. Eventually.” There was sadness in his eyes that hadn’t been there earlier. The conversation he’d bailed on came rushing back, all the things we’d left unsaid, but this time I wasn’t going to let him squirm away from some real talk.

  “Hey.” I kissed his temple. “I meant what I said. You’ve got me. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Except the pro tour.” He sighed before painting a patently fake smile on his face. “Which you deserve. And I’m happy for you—”

  “Liar.”

  “No, I am. I want you to have that dream. You worked hard for it. You earned your shot. If I’m sounding reluctant, it’s not because I don’t want it for you. More that I’m sad about letting you go.”

  “Maybe my dream’s changed. Maybe you don’t have to let me go.”

  “Don’t be silly.” He propped himself up on an elbow to stare down at me. “The check from this win won’t last forever. If they offered you a slot on the pro tour, you’ve got to take it. And maybe we could make long distance work or something, but you can’t turn it down because of me.”

  “No, but I could turn it down because of me.” I held up a hand before he could open his mouth to protest. “Cutthroat competition was never my big thing. I wanted recognition and validation and financial stability. And as it turns out,
I didn’t need Odyssey to tell me that I’m a success and a good person. That was up to me all along.”

  “I get that,” he said softly. “I thought I needed this win for direction, validation like you said, a reward for this last year of awful. Which wasn’t as bad as yours—”

  “Not a competition,” I reminded him, ruffling his damp hair. “The whole not-getting-into-medical-school thing sucked for you. I get it.”

  “Anyway, I thought the game could be my new direction, but as it turned out, what I really needed was the courage to stand up for myself, to go after my own dreams.”

  “Like us?” I couldn’t resist fishing a little.

  “Like us.” He gave me an indulgent smile. “But not just that. I told the moms this afternoon that I’m not going on to the master’s in health administration program. Or doing a PhD. I want to get my teaching certificate. Work with kids.”

  “Hold that thought. I mean, that’s a great plan. And a fabulous goal because you really are awesome with kids, but maybe I’ve got a better offer. For both of us.”

  “Oh?” He frowned. “I don’t think I could go with you on tour—”

  “Not that.” I smiled at him. “Working at Odyssey headquarters in NYC. That’s what my lunch with Imelda Sanchez was about. Turns out she’s a big fan of Gamer Grandpa. And apparently she’s been watching me play the whole tournament. They say I can do the pro tour if I want, but they’ve got a job for me in game development if I’d rather work with them directly.”

  “Even without your degree?”

  “Even without my degree.” I’d had to ask, of course, but they hadn’t seem to care at all, waving those concerns off, saying they were more interested in how I played the game than any credentials. “And they have tuition assistance. I could probably finish my last two years part-time. Might take a while, but I’ll get there. And they have health insurance, which the pro tour doesn’t. I could stop paying out-of-pocket for my meds.”