Page 42 of Egg Me On

I made a non-committal noise. In truth, I found Mira's abrasiveness easier to handle than the forced politeness I’d gotten from families of past partners. Mira was treating me like she treated everyone in the family. Like I belonged.

Aiden flipped off the movie, then shifted, turning more fully toward me, his eyes searching mine. "You okay, though? Do youwant to talk about therapy? I was waiting for you to broach the subject, but I’m realizing now that might not work with you."

I nodded, letting out a slow breath. The session had been... not terrible. Just an initial consultation, more about establishing a baseline than diving into the messy tangle of my communication issues. The therapist had been surprisingly straightforward, no coddling or pressure, just practical questions, and observations. She'd left me with a packet about how to use non-verbal cues with people in my life.

Outside, I could hear the distinctive screech of Mira’s overly aggressive exit from the driveway—she probably went through more tires than a race car driver—and relaxed a little, knowing that we were alone.

"It was fine.” The words were coming more easily the safer I felt with him. “She was nice.”

Aiden's smile bloomed, slow and sweet, the kind that still made my breath catch weeks after I'd first seen it. "Yeah? Did she have ideas?"

I nodded again, swallowing against the tightness in my throat, wishing I could tell him more about the relief of having someone take my silence seriously, and about the hope that maybe I could learn to navigate the gap between what I felt and what I could express. Instead, I handed him the packet the therapist had given me, and as he flipped through it, I pulled him closer, burying my face in his hair and breathing in the scent of his shampoo, letting my body say what my voice couldn't.

“This is good stuff,” he said, as he scanned the words. “Non-verbal cues. Why didn’t we think of this before?”

Aiden set the paper aside, and his eyes met mine, mischief dancing in their hazel depths as his lips curved into a smile that promised trouble. The moment stretched between us, charged with possibility now that we were finally, gloriously alone. My fingers twitched with the need to touch him properly, to reclaim the intimacy that his sister's presence had interrupted.

He swung his leg over my thighs in one fluid motion, straddling me with a grace that still caught me off guard. His weight settled against me, warm and solid, hands coming to rest on my shoulders. "So," he said, voice dropping to that particular pitch that sent heat pooling in my groin, "I think we need to invent some special non-verbal cues for when you’re struggling with your words." His fingers traced idle patterns along my collarbone, each touch igniting nerve endings I hadn't known existed before him. "Maybe we could review some options? For example," he tilted his head, eyes sparkling with challenge, “What will you do when you want to express that you’re feeling content?”

Smiling, I leaned forward and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“And what about if you want to spend some time with me?”

I hauled him closer, wrapping my arms lightly around my waist.

“So cuddling me means you want me there, and pushing me away means you need some space?”

I shook my head. “I won’t need that.”

"Everyone needs alone time sometimes,” He said. “What if you rub my shoulder and then step away? That says that you care about me, but you need a minute.”

I nodded, still not sure I’d ever use a gesture like that. I wanted to be close to him almost always, and Aiden was already so aware of my non-verbal cues that he naturally gave me space when I needed it, the same way he naturally moved with me when we rode my bike together.

He chewed on his bottom lip, studying me. “And what about the tough one… the one that says 'I love you'?"

My chest tightened at the casual way he referenced those three words. Words I'd typed easily enough a week ago, for strangers on the internet but still struggled to voice directly to him. Instead of answering, I leaned forward, brushing my lips against the sensitive spot just below his ear, then gently caught the lobe between my teeth.

Aiden's breath hitched, his body instinctively arching into mine. "Oh," he breathed, fingers tightening on my shoulders. "That works. Definitely works. It’s specific enough of a gesture that I know you mean something different than just simple affection. Plus, it makes me all warm and tingly, so I like that, too."

I grinned against his skin, emboldened by his response. My hands slid higher under his shirt, mapping the topography of his back—each knob of his spine, the subtle shift of muscle beneathsmooth skin. I traced my lips down the line of his chin, nibbling and licking the skin until I found the spot that made him giggle.

"That one too?" he asked, voice slightly unsteady. “Or maybe that means you love me very much.”

“No.” That one was me getting distracted by how pretty he was. I thought for a moment about what I’d do if I wanted to show him big love.

Then I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him flush against my chest in an embrace that left no space between us. His heartbeat thundered against mine, our rhythms syncing as they always seemed to do when we were this close. When I finally released him, his eyes were softer, more serious.

"That's my favorite," he admitted quietly. "When you hold me like you're afraid I might disappear. And now that I know everything, it hits different. Better.” He snuggled closer, wrapping his arms around my waist. “Good choice. I love you very much, too.”

Something in my chest unraveled at his words, at the easy way he accepted my silence and translated my touch. I cradled his face between my palms, marveling at how perfectly he fit against me, and kissed him properly—deep and thorough, pouring everything I couldn't say into the slide of my tongue against his.

When we broke apart, he was breathless, beaming at me. “See? Nonverbal cues. You were probably giving them to me all along,weren’t you?” He threaded his fingers through mine, squeezing my hand.

“Yeah,” I said quietly. “Maybe.”

“I’m sorry it took me a while to catch on. To realize that you love me just as much as I love you. You just have a different way of showing it.”

He kissed my cheek, studying my face for a moment, and I wondered if he could tell I was on the verge of tears, that emotions were threatening to overwhelm me. Maybe he did understand, because he sighed happily and settled more comfortably in my lap and shifted to a safer topic, talking about a weekend ride he'd been planning.

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