Page 60 of Best of Me

I collapse down onto her, burying my face in the space between her neck and shoulder, peppering small kisses all along her collarbone. “Mmm, Cricket, I’ve never felt anything as good as you.” It sounds like a line, but it’s the honest to God truth. Being with her—in her—has me feeling some kind of way. My body, my mind, my soul…they’re all wrapped in a sense of rightness, of belonging, of home.

The wordsI love yousit on the tip of my tongue, but I swallow them back. Because while I mean it with every fiber of my being, I know that if I were to confess it now, Mallory would assume it was an empty post-sex platitude, and my girl deserves way,waymore than that.

chapter thirty-seven

Mallory

I’ve learned a lot about myself over the last two weeks.

For example, I love morning sex—like seriously,love it—but am terrified of even the thought of anal. Duke’s dirty talking can get me in the mood quicker than Dale Earnhardt, Jr. can complete a lap around the track. Most surprisingly, though, is the way my body responds when he bosses me around in the bedroom—there’s just something about that gravelly tone of his when he takes charge that makes me go crazy with lust.

All of that pales in comparison to what I’ve learned about love though. For the first time in my life, I’m experiencing limitless and unconditional love and it’s…everything.

Sure, he hasn’t come out and said those three little words, but I can feel it—down to my very marrow, I canfeelhis love for me. It’s white hot and consuming, warming me from the inside out like hot chocolate on a cold day.

Duke: When did you say that thing was?

I grin as I read his text. Thethinghe’s referring to is the When I Grow Up assembly the school is putting on for the kindergarten class where various professionals come in and educate the kids about their careers. Obviously, I begged Duke to participate, which in turn means Nate will be presenting as well. Needless to say, Tatum is thrilled; especially since Alden, her dad, will be in attendance as well.

Me: It’s on the last Friday of November.

Me: Also, have I thanked you lately for agreeing to help out?

Duke: Now that I think about it, it’s been a few days. Maybe you can *show* me later?

Me: Oh, however will I do that?

Duke: Cricket, I can think of a million ways…

Me: What if I wanted to thank you on my knees?

Duke: I’d say hell-fucking-yes.

Me: Figured you’d like that.

Duke: Like it? Baby, I love it. The thought of you looking up at me with your pretty lips wrapped around me…damn. I’ve got wood while riding shotgun with Nate.

Me: HA! I’ll take good care of you tonight.

Duke: Then let me take care of you first. How’s dinner from Bayside, a movie, and me eating you for dessert sound?

Me: Sounds like six o’clock can’t come soon enough.

Duke: Shit! We’ve got a speeder. Talk later.

Me: Love you, be safe!

I don’t hear back from him again until the end of his shift when he calls to let me know he’s on his way over. Thankfully the food from Bayside tastes just as good reheated as it does fresh, because the second Duke walked in the door, he was on me, ensuring I made good on my dirty little text message promises.

Girls’ night has become a semi-regular thing for us ever since the bowling alley re-do, but it’s been a while since our schedules have aligned. Duke’s working tonight, which in turn means Nate is also working, so we decided tonight was as good as any to meet for margaritas. Not to mention, according to Natalie, Tatum’s been begging for a daddy-daughter night—something about a recipe she found on YouTube that she wants him to help her cook. It should probably make me feel bad that a five-year-old can cook better than me, but with the parents she has, it’s really no surprise.

When I arrive at El Rodeo the girls are already here waiting for me. I’ll never forget the first time I ate here; I was so dang hesitant. From the outside, it looks rundown and seedy. The inside, however, is well-kept and the food is out of this world—especially their queso.

I slide my car into the only open spot in the parking lot and head inside. Jenny texted me a few minutes ago, letting me know they already have a table, so I bypass the hostess and walk straight back to where they’re seated.

“So, how are things?” Jenny asks, not wasting any time.

“Things are really good.”

---