Page 17 of Her Desire

"Lead the way," she replied, her eyes reflecting the same eagerness that thrummed through me.

We ventured toward the enclave, where each step felt like a page turned into a living history book. The sidewalks were canvases splashed with vibrant murals that spoke of love, resilience, and pride. It was as if the streets whispered stories of those who had walked before us.

"See that?" I gestured toward a mural of a rainbow phoenix rising from ashes. "That's more than art. It symbolizes our rebirth, our continuous fight for existence and acceptance."

Ava's grip on my hand tightened, her gaze lingering on the colors that seemed to dance under the streetlights. "It's beautiful," she murmured, tracing the lines of the painting with her free hand as if to commit it to memory.

“No, you are beautiful,” I stated.

Ava turned and smiled. “You are like a gift. I’ve never had someone make me feel so special.”

“You are special.” I knew what I was about to say could possibly scare her away, but I couldn’t hold back any longer. Some people wait their entire lives to find real love. I had found mine within days and knew what I felt was real.

“I’m in love with you, Ava,” I declared.

Standing in front of a beautiful painting that symbolized everything about me, Ava smiled widely. “Is it crazy that I love you, too?” she asked.

Hearing her say those words had my heart leaping out of my chest. Without thinking, I picked her up, kissing her with such heat I thought we might create a fire, and spun her around. I didn’t care if other people were around and watching us. This incredible woman loved me, and I was the happiest woman in the world.

“Are we crazy?” she asked against my lips.

“Maybe, but I don’t care. I fucking love you, and you love me. That’s all that matters,” I told her.

And that was the damn truth. Love and fate had brought us together and love was what would keep us going.

Later the next day, Ava and I were enjoying our evening. I had gone into my office for a few hours while Ava unpacked and completed one of her graphic design jobs for a new client she had.

I loved that her job allowed her to live and travel anywhere. I traveled frequently for business and wanted Ava by my side. Knowing that was possible was a great feeling.

The sizzle of garlic hitting the hot pan was a familiar comfort. Ava and I were shoulder to shoulder in our tiny kitchen, a ballet of two as we navigated around each other. She hummed that indie tune she loved, her brown hair bouncing with every movement. Her petite frame allowed her to whirl gracefully between counter and stove, while my taller, more robust form took up the steadier tasks – chopping vegetables and stirring pots.

"Pass me the pepper, would you?" Ava asked, without looking up from the chicken breasts she was seasoning. Her voice was sweet and melodic, even in such a mundane request.

"Here you go," I replied, handing her the pepper mill. Our fingers brushed briefly, sending a spark through me that I hoped wasn't just static electricity.

As I watched her cook, something in the way she moved – a certain tilt of her head, made me feel like I was finally home.

She prepared the meal, and as we filled our plates, we moved to sit at my kitchen table facing the large windows that overlooked the ocean.

“This is delicious,” I said, savoring the tasty stir fry.

“Thank you. I enjoy cooking,” she said through a bite of chicken and rice.

“I have a private chef who usually comes and cooks for me in the evenings,” I said. Ava’s smile faded a little, and I felt awful. “I can fire him if you want.”

Shaking her head, Ava almost choked. “No, don’t fire your chef. What if I cooked a few nights a week, and he could do the other nights,” she suggested.

“That sounds amazing. You are so thoughtful,” I admired.

Ava could have told me to fire my chef, and I would have, but she didn’t want someone to lose their job. That was just another quality she held that made me love her. She was a genuine and caring person.

“I just don’t want to change your life,” she said.

“That’s where you don’t get it. I want to change my life. I want everything in my world to revolve around you. Already, I feel myself changing. Work isn’t my top priority any longer. I wake up thinking of you and only you.”

“I feel the same way, but we still have to keep pieces of ourselves that we had before we became us,” she said, waving her hands between us.

“I agree.” I leaned across the table and kissed her, tasting the garlic from the chicken and the sweet alcohol of the champagne. I could feel myself growing aroused and wanting to rip all her clothes off, but I knew I needed to be sweet and loving right now.

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