For me.
I used to be so scared of the world that I often couldn’t even meet the eyes of anyone around me, and then I found my stability in friendship only to have it devastated by loss, and then my world was rocked anew by me accidentally falling for the one girl I wasn’t supposed to want…and then here I am now, allowed to be happy with her.
I’m so happy with her.
Still, there’s a slight shake in my hands as I skim my fingertips up the insides of her thighs. I can’t help it.
Her skin is soft, and her inhalation is softer.
“I….”
At her halting half-whisper, I lift my attention to her face. The faint color I see in her cheeks is so, so pretty.
I murmur, “What’s up, beautiful?”
Once more, her smile turns her stunning.
I’m the luckiest bastard walking this earth.
“I don’t….”
She draws another soft breath, then crosses her arms over her chest with a sweet shyness, not a nervous one. Her eyes hold only admiration as they move over my face, my torso, my hands, my still-clothed bottom half.
After they meet mine again, she finishes, “I don’t know if I’ve ever felt anything as gentle as you.”
‘Gentle.’
The word clings to me just like her eyes do.
When was the last time someone described me that way—if anyone even has before?
It’s a compliment I didn’t know I wanted.
Here she is again, patching holes in me that I didn’t realize were there.
People tend to feel most flattered when they hear they’re attractive or smart or talented, but I have just learned that being called gentle hits every bit as hard.
I recall some of the times she was the same way with me—the day she cared for the wounds from my dad, and the first kiss she ever pressed to the scar he left on my cheek, and when she told me I’m the strongest person she’s ever known.
She deserves the compliment right back, so I give it to her. It earns me a soft smile.
Then my lips take their time following the map of her body that my hands made last night during our shower time.
They taste curves and dips and freckles.
They make her giggle, sigh, bite her lip.
They incite moans from both of us when they end up dropping kisses on her inner thighs, where my touch was before. The farther in they travel, the lighter I make them, and the more breathless they make us.
We can’t take more than a minute of me being here, though. She sits up with wanting eyes and I do, too, because I’m with her on needing more. Our hands move to finish taking my clothes off.
Soon, I’m reclining back against the couch cushions and she’s straddling me, her quiet gasps mingling with mine as she fits herself to me.
She holds my face in her hands.
I hold her hips in mine.
“I love you,” is a low breath over my lips.
It’s heavier from me down her neck before I kiss her collarbone, because the rise and fall of her on me is unhurried and unbelievable, and it’s only just starting.
Slowly yet surely, time ebbs away.
We don’t try to hold on to it. Don’t try to control it or hasten through to the finish line.
We happily settle for sinking into each other.
Her hair is a soft curtain between the left side of my face and the rest of the world.
My fingertips on her thighs and waist and back are trembling worshippers.
Her voice is as warm wrapping around my name as her arms are wrapping around me.
My languid movements work with hers to draw these minutes out, to slow them to our liking.
Damn, do we like them.
Love them.
Cling to them and to each other.
Every now and then, the sunlight creeping in through the window brightens from the shift of some cloud or other. It allows me to faintly glimpse the reddish tint to her hair before the room dims again.
One time it happens right as a drugging kiss ends with her moaning about having her breasts in my hands, and it’s such an exquisite few seconds that I genuinely feel like I can’t breathe.
I soak up every fucking bit of this time with her.
She isn’t only the first person to whom I’ve given myself so sincerely that the act deserves to be called lovemaking—she’s also the first person to sincerely give herself back to me.
No, being with other girls didn’t feel like this.
This is what it feels like to have a soulmate.
The knowledge is so sharply sweet that I know this moment will stay with me forever.
It’s definitely still fresh in my mind when at last we divulge that we’re close to not being able to hang on anymore.
Our lips linger close, touching rather than kissing. Her hands grip my shoulders, and the sting of her nails on my skin is instantly addictive. My breathing stumbles over it.
She judders apologetic palms over the tiny places.
“I’m sorry—I—”
I shake my head as words tumble out of my chest. “No, don’t be sorry. You’re not gonna hurt me. Ellie, we’re perfect, so don’t think—baby, just feel. Do what feels good to you when you’re with me like this. I want that.”
Gasping softly, she sends her hands over my shoulders and down my back. My arms encircle her so I can hold her in place and match her tightening movements.
She nods, and I’m glad.
I don’t want her to hold back from me.
I want to give her everything she wants, everything she needs.
I’m her ocean.
Get lost in me.
The plea of a thought overwhelms me and falls out of my mouth in a whisper.
The breathless sound of liking that she makes against my lips is music meant only for my ears.
Another thing that will live on in my memory.
We do kiss now, and it’s full of the same slow ardor we’ve been entwined with all this time.
Momentarily, she’s shivering in my arms, gasping more, and that addictively tender possessiveness is back in her fingernails, making me groan and hold her harder.
‘I’m your ocean. Get lost in me.’
She does, and it pulls me over the blazing edge of pleasure with her.
When I can think straight again, I’m able to amend what I thought to myself earlier: now this morning is the best of my life so far.
We spend just as long basking in post-orgasmic peace as we did working up to it.
I feel like I’ve melted here beneath her warm body, but I also feel extremely present, like my existence has been intensified somehow.
It’s true.
I’m the best version of myself in more than one way.
And I’ll only get better from here.
I move some of Noelle’s hair off her naked shoulder, then follow the curve of it with the pad of my thumb. My thoughts make their way back to the conversation we were having in the kitchen: I’m going to live here.
I clear my throat and ask half-teasingly, “Did I mention that I can’t wait to face the rest of my life with you?”
Where her face is tucking into the curve of my neck, I feel her grin. Then she sits up and looks at me with eyes that are happy and cheeks that are delightfully pink once again.
She says, “I love hearing it again.”
My heart warms when she tilts in and kisses my cheek, right on the scar.
Against my skin, she adds, “Wanna finally drink our coffee and talk about move-in things?”
I smile and then dart a kiss up to her chin. “Hell yeah, I wanna do that.”
We probably won’t be able to guess when I can officially vacate my apartment; the manager at my complex needs to be spoken to about that. I’ll check to see if she’s available today, but it doesn’t seem likely on a Saturday. Still, there are other details Noelle and I can discuss, including when we should tell Theo and how often I can stay here until it is official. And that is very exciting, indee
d.
I don’t love how she has to shift away from me here and now, but I do love knowing we’ll soon be taking another step into our life together.
It really will be one hundred.
—
As the weekend drifts into a string of new workdays, the weather outside grows warmer. By the middle of the week, it’s decidedly hot and gross—Texas can have some uncomfortable humidity, which makes higher temperatures that much worse. So, early on Wednesday evening, Noelle and I form a plan to take things into our own hands.
Theo’s shriek of excitement is shrill, right in the middle of the store, when Noelle reveals that our surprise trip over here involves buying a swimming pool.
“Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!” She jumps up and down, twirls, fists her hands and punches the air, causing her bright blue skirt to flutter wildly. “This is gonna be the best!”
Someone at the other end of the aisle looks this way with raised eyebrows.
I’m laughing, obviously.
Noelle is, too, from beside me, though she’s also saying, “Yeah, we thought you’d like this idea! Calm down a little and let’s talk about which one we want!”
Theo freezes in a hilarious-looking position, like she was about to jump into the air again and also like she was going to kick a leg out to the side or something. I don’t know, but it makes me laugh harder.
“Let’s get the biggest—” she throws her arms out wide, “—the biggest, biggest—”
I find the composure to cut off her rising shout. “Hey, too loud, darlin’. Like your mama said, it’s great to be excited, but we need to use our inside voices, okay?”
Her arms drop. “Oops, sorry, Da—”
She yanks in a breath at the same time I do.
Time stops for a second.
Was she about to…?
“Oops,” she rushes out again, eyes wide. She covers her mouth with both hands, then moves them away again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to almost say that. I forgot I’m not ‘posed to.”
My heart and lungs and knees feel weak over that part, but strong—so strong—over….
It’s damn hard not to react right off the bat.
I make myself look at Noelle first.
I remember what she said to me about Theo not so long ago: ‘She only knows her heart loves you.’
Her suddenly misty eyes are windows to my own soul, I swear. We’re two different people in two different bodies, yet we’re so not; we’re connected from deep down, from places that grew into existence because of us growing with each other.
She’s as moved by this as I am.
Still, I halfway whisper to her, “Can I…?”
Can I listen to my heart and let Theo listen to hers?
Nodding, she knots her hands to her chest and glances between me and her daughter.
“If you’re ready, Beck,” she whispers back.
Once again, she has understood what I haven’t been able to say quite right.
Inhaling deeply, I reach out and stroke my hand through her hair.
When I turn back to Theo, I find her bottom lip is folded into her mouth. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other as I gently take her elbows in my hands and kneel in front of her.
“Am I in trouble?” she asks in a small voice.
My kneejerk reaction is to grin at her, but in the next second, I’m struggling to keep myself together. This is so special, but I don’t want to cry—I want to be steady.
While I work on breathing, I rub at her arms and study as much of her as I can.
Her golden hair is pinned up on one side by a white heart clip, and I’m just now noticing that one spot looks kind of sticky, which makes me wrinkle my nose even as a chuckle escapes me. Her outfit is made up of a white shirt that has a small pink stain on it, that fluttery electric-blue skirt over black leggings, and white sandals. And, ugh, her face is the cutest face ever, despite her being unsure of how I’m going to respond; she may have gotten her blue eyes from Noelle, but they’re full of her own magic, and her little nose is adorable…and there’s a scratch on it, I see, which might mean her fingernails need some trimming….
Funny how these big moments keep sneaking up on me.
But I’m no more afraid of this one than I was of the one I had with Noelle the other morning. Same as then, even with my stomach swooping, I feel warm and comfortable and happy. Feel like I could fly if I tried to.
Unlike then, I feel a very particular kind of confidence.
From the time I learned Cliff was going to be a parent, I knew I’d be an awesome uncle. It was in my bones. There were plenty of things I hadn’t believed in myself about over the years, but that was not one of them. I was certain I would be a bright spot in his child’s world.
I believe in myself even more now as I’m faced with this new, higher honor.
I’ve succeeded at being an awesome uncle and a bright spot in Theo’s world, but life turned on all of us, so now something more is calling me—and I know I can handle it.
I know I have what it takes to stand where Cliff stood.
Not because I think I can replace him. Not because I think I mean more than he did. No, I have what it takes purely because these girls have exchanged hearts with me. It’s not about which of us guys is better—God, no, it’s not a competition. All that matters is how I’m fully committed to this kid and her mama, and how that will never change. My love for them won’t go anywhere. It won’t be shaken. It won’t grow dull.
No one should’ve had to take up this mantle in Cliff’s stead, but if I know anything at all, it’s that no one can do it better than I can.
I finally say calmly, “You’re not in trouble at all, The-o-dor-a. You can call me that if you want to. I know your mama talked to you before and said I still have to be your Uncle Beck, but things have changed since then. It’s okay with us if you want me to be…” I take a pulse-skipping pause of a breath, “…your dad.”
Hope has started seeping into her face.
“You can be my dad and I can be your child?” she asks.
The way she says it is funny, but I stifle my laughter; I can hear Noelle doing the same.
I do smile at Theo, though.
“If that’s what you want, then yes.” After another breath in, I lightly squeeze her arms. “Just like I told you at McDonald’s, that’s exactly how much I love you.”
A happy smile breaks out on her face too.
A big happy smile.
She rushes me with so much force that I almost lose my balance.
“Aw!” I laugh out, wrapping her in a hug. “Thank you! So what do you think? Do you…uh…?”
My voice fades along with my amusement as I realize she’s sobbing into my shoulder.
My heart leaps into my throat.
Sweet Jesus.
I gather her into my arms even more securely. She latches onto me as I get to my feet.
“Oh, Theo,” I murmur. “Oh, honey.”
“I w-w…” a fresh sob bursts out of her, and she squeezes me around the neck, “…I wa-ant you t-to….”
Noelle comes into sight and wraps her arms around both of us. I close my stinging eyes and release a heavy sigh.
Theo keeps trying to say the whole sentence in one go, but her crying is working against her. She can’t get the words all the way out.
And I don’t rush her or cut her off, because I don’t mind waiting for the whole thing.
Not one fucking bit.
It doesn’t matter that her meaning is clear already—I’m happy to stand here and hold her until she settles down enough to tell me what she wants to tell me.
That’s important, I think.
Noelle rubs both her back and mine.
Theo hiccups in the middle of her new attempt. Then she sniffles thickly and tries to snuggle further into me.
The warm rubbing at my back ceases; I reopen my eyes and find Noelle has turned her attention to her purse. After a few seconds, she produces a small pack of tissue
s.
Good idea.
I get Theo to shift around and sit up. The sight of her wet lashes and reddened, tearstained cheeks wrenches at my heart. I brush her hair back from her face while Noelle helps her with a tissue; the shoulder of my shirt is probably messy, but I don’t care about that either.
After she’s done with the tissue, she rubs at her eyes with balled-up fists. She cries a little more, but it seems like she’s mostly done.
“Uncle Beck.”
Indeed, her voice is shaky rather than outright uncontrollable.
I measure out a breath. “Yes, ma’am?”
“I-I want you to be my daddy and—and not my uncle anym-more.”
The sweet surety about her closes fast and hard around my throat.
God.
However prepared I thought I was to hear it…just…I wasn’t.
Only now do I realize there was no way to be ready for those words. The privilege they gift me with goes too deep and is too big.
And I absolutely, absolutely love it.
Theo lowers her fists, so I lift a hand and dry those little cheeks with the backs of my fingers. When her blinking eyes focus on me, I give her a smile that I can’t keep from wobbling.
“Thank you,” I tell her. “I will, okay? I’ll be that for you.”
She nods and sniffles and breathes unsteadily.
The longer we look at each other, the more I can see how purely and completely she loves me, and it melts my fucking heart.
My voice wobbles, too, now as I say again, “Thank you.”
She gives another nod, but I don’t think she understands what this means to me.
And that’s okay, because how could she understand? How could she know?
She can’t right now, but someday, she will.
Over time, as she grows up, she’ll start understanding how much love there has always been between her and me and Noelle and Cliff.
Yeah.
Yeah, that’s right.
Noelle and I will keep Cliff’s memory from fading away. I’ll let Theo in on our childhoods here and there until she can see the full picture of how strong he was, and how strong he helped me to be, and how much of a gift it is to get to be everything for her that his and my parents never were for us.
I’ll never stop showing her how important she is to me.
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