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“I mean… Do you… ” Her palm comes to rest against my chest, tentative and questioning. Waiting. “…still want me?”

The water from the showerhead pelts against my skin, but it’s the sting of her uncertainty that truly penetrates. How could I not fucking want the one woman I loved all my life?

“What?” I ask.

“Ouch. That hurts. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

I grab her waist and crush my lips to hers. And just like that, the distance between us evaporates.

Her lips melt against mine, soft and yielding, and I swear I can taste her surprise, her relief, her need. It’s intoxicating, more potent than any drug I’ve ever tried.

My heart races, pounding against my ribcage like it’s trying to break free, to merge with hers.

I deepen the kiss, my tongue delving into her mouth, exploring every inch of her. She meets me with equal fervor, her hands tangling in my hair, tugging me closer. It’s electric, the way her body molds to mine, the tension bleeding from her posture.

I can’t get enough of her. My hands roam over her curves, memorizing every dip and swell. She arches into my touch, a soft moan escaping her lips. It’s music to my ears, a symphony I never want to end.

God, I love her. I love her so fucking much it hurts. It’s a physical ache in my chest, a longing that consumes me. I poureverything into this kiss, every ounce of love and devotion and desperate need.

I want her to feel it, to know that she’s everything to me. That I’ll spend the rest of my life making her feel cherished and adored.

She breaks the kiss, gasping for air, and I trail my lips down her neck, tasting the water on her skin.

“Connor.” My name has never sounded so sweet.

Her eyes have darkened with desire, her lips are swollen from my kisses, and a pretty blush flames across her cheeks.

“Don’t ever think I don’t want you,” I whisper. “Since college, Blue. Since before I knew how to want anything. Any man would be lucky to have you.”

Her eyes widen, and for a moment, I’m terrified that I’ve said too much, that I’ve ruined everything.

But then she smiles, and it’s like the sun breaking through the clouds. “Do you feel lucky?”

“I’m your stalker, remember? I’m the luckiest to even have you here. I’ve watched the way your eyes light up with joy. When you eat, when you laugh. Since I tasted you, I can’t—and won’t—let you go. I’ll be here. Always. Even if… Even if you decide to abandon me.”

“You really mean that.”

“I don’t say things I don’t mean.”

Her hands float over my tattoos. “You never told me what they mean.”

The waves on my skin ripple as I flex my arm, and I smirk at the way Mary’s gaze lingers on the ink that stretches from my hand to half of my shoulder. She’s always been curious about the meaning behind them, but I’ve never had the balls to tell her the truth.

Until now.

“They’re you,” I say. “The waves. They’re what I feel when I look into your eyes. Emotions crashing over me and a deep, endless blue that I could drown in.”

Her breath hitches, and I can see the surprise in her eyes.

“Every time I look at you, it’s like I’m being pulled under. Consumed. And I never want to come up for air.” My fingers trace the curve of her cheek, and she leans into my touch.

“Connor.”

“You see me, Blue. In a way, no one else ever has. And when I’m with you, I feel understood. Loved, even. Though I sure as fuck don’t deserve it.”

Her hand comes up to cover mine, and she presses a kiss to my palm.

“You do. Leaving you, abandoning you, never crossed my mind,” she says, and I swear my heart stops.

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