Page 135 of Just My Type of wrong guy

She needs exactly what I’ve been wanting to give her.

The world goes silent. For a moment, my heart forgets how to beat.

Not having sex with Alexandra at Disney was exactly about wanting her to see me for more than just the hot guy who could give her a night of pleasure. But having her look into my eyes and say it with those words makes me blink twice, trying to make sure I heard it right.

I feel a lump in my throat, the good kind. The rare kind. And everything inside me falls into place. Because for my girl, it’s not just about sex.

It’s about giving. Trust. Love.

I lie beside her, knowing Alexandra already has everything from me: my past, my pain, my body, my heart. As I pull her up onto me this time, I surrender to her complete control over how we do this—and my soul along with it.

***

I wake up to a warm sigh against my chest and a pair of soft fingers tangled in mine. My free hand runs through Alexandra ’s hair, gently stroking it, but also searching for the reassurance that this is real. The sun lazily spills into the room, filtered through the half-open curtain, and everything has this golden hue, like something out of a good dream — or last night.

I take a deep breath with Alexandra curled up against me, as if this is our normal. Messy hair, warm skin, slow breathing… and a relaxed expression. For a few seconds, I wonder how it would have been if it were always like this, but the thought fades the moment she opens her eyes and smiles at me, because there’s nothing better than having, in the woman you love, a friend you trust completely.

“Good morning,meu amor…” she murmurs in Portuguese, her voice still rough from sleep. And the nickname she’s never used almost makes me ask if I heard right.

But I know I heard it.

“Say it again,” I ask, staring at her.

“What?” she asks, stretching, her mouth still pressed against my chest.

“My love. Say it again.”

She laughs, crawling up my chest, her hair spilling over me.

“Meu amor,” she says slowly, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips.

“Oh, well. There’s no turning back now.”

I gently stroke her bare back, but her chin drops, and Alexandra narrows her eyes at me.

“Are you trying to tell me there was a way backbeforethis, Anthony?”

The anger in her voice makes me pull her into my arms and laugh, spinning us around so I can press her back against the mattress.

“Of course there wasn’t,” I assure her, hovering above her, and her face softens. “I’m gonna keep you here forever. And, God, I love it when you say my name.”

“Really?” Alexandra struggles to hold back a smile, eyes locked on mine. “I love your name, I’m happy I can say it.”

“But there’s a problem,” I murmur, arching an eyebrow as I lie beside her, my right hand slowly tracing her side. “I call you Miss Petulant—but you’re honestly the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted, so I don’t think that’s fair anymore.” I brush my lips along her neck. “So…”

“Oh, no…” She grabs my hair as I start to trail kisses down her body. “Don’t start, I haven’t even recovered from yesterday.”

“I think it’s my need to hear you say my name while you unravel underneath me. But I’ll behave.”

“For someone who said they’d wait, you’re pretty cheeky, Anthony,” she says, sitting up as if she’s trying to make sure she won’t give in.

“But I’m still serious. I need a new nickname to match,” I say, gently running my hand through her hair. “One that suits the woman who just called me ‘my love.’”

She looks flustered but smiles, turning her face away.

“I like ‘babe’; at the end of the day, classics never go out of style.” she says quietly, looking back at me.

“I’m gonna make you happy every day, babe,” I promise, my voice firmer than I expected.

---