Page 32 of Forgetting Rafe Thomas
“Wait. Hold on,” Rafe says. I freeze and he grasps my arms and rolls me off of him to the side. He doesn’t let go. Instead he pulls me upright with him and steadies himself against the bottom stair with one foot. He lifts me from the mud and plops me firmly on the top step.
“Are you okay?” I ask and work to wipe the rain from his face. It’s useless. The more I wipe, the harder it rains.
“I’m fine. Are you okay?”
“Yeah. All good. I was coming to your cottage and ran out the door and…Well, you know the rest.”
His lips pull into an almost smirky, cocky grin. “You were coming to mine?” And then the grin disappears. “Wait, was it to yell at me?”
I shake my head and settle my hands on his shoulders, eye level with him. “No, not to yell. I was coming to apologize for what I said and talk it out with you. We should go inside.” I point up at the clouds as if he can’t tell it’s practically drowning us.
He peers around me and bites his lip. I know that look. Oh boy, do I know it. He’s going to make a move right here in the pouring rain like some kind of Hollywood actor…but no thanks. I’m not looking to get sick or drown kissing in the rain. Still, the idea of kissing our troubles away isn’t such a bad one, so I have to figure out a compromise and fast. Before he has a chance to go in for the kill, I grab his hand and drag him inside.
He’s all legs tripping over himself up the stairs and over the threshold, but once he’s inside, I let him go for it. I spin around and let him wrap me in his arms, warm despite his soaking-wet jacket. Rafe lifts me onto the kitchenette counter so I’m at eye level again, hesitates long enough to make sure I’m okay with this, and goes in for the kiss.
His lips are cold but tender, telling me he’s just as sorry for the spat as I am. There’s nothing frenzied in this kiss, but everything soft and sweet and patient. It’s years of knowing just how to kissme, just how to hold me, and all the right ways to soothe my emotions into a state of calm like no one else can.
Rafe sighs and pulls away. With a gentle hand, he brushes all the wet hair from my face. “I’m sorry I left. I thought it was the right thing to do so we wouldn’t fight, then I got down there, and I’ve been miserable ever since. Couldn’t stand it anymore, so I ran up here.”
I lower my gaze to his chest, but he forces me to look up at him. He clasps my face between his hands and kisses my nose. “Don’t look away from me. Talk to me.”
I pull him closer and settle my head on his chest. “No, you were right to give us space. What I said was unnecessarily cruel and untrue. Your work is important to you, just like mine.”
“Why did you say it?” His voice is a rumble against my cheek.
“Because I had a momentary setback. All I could think about was how much I felt ignored when you were working on one project, and how much more would it be with multiple things happening?”
“Why didn’t you just tell me that?”
I heave a sigh. “Because that would have been the big girl way of handling a problem, and I was a doofus.”
Rafe chuckles. “Fair enough. I’ve been there, done that.” He leans down and kisses the top of my head. “Are we good now? Should we talk it out a little more?”
“Probably, but I want to snuggle with you. Can we do the therapy-style talking more tomorrow when we’re not tired and soaked?”
“Sure thing, baby girl.” Rafe helps me down from the counter and urges me to change before I get sick. He’s not as wet as anticipated once he takes off his jacket, so he goes to sit in front of the fire while I change into my sweats. Now that I’m comfy and cozy, we can snuggle up on the sofa and talk or read…just exist.
When I emerge from the bedroom, he’s already sprawled on a blanket on the floor, propped against the sofa, reading one of the books I brought with me. I snatch one from the pile and sit beside him. Rafe opens his arms and I snuggle down for an evening of reading and existing in one another’s orbit.
Two glorious hours wrapped in his arms pass before I yawn.
“Ah, and there’s my cue,” he whispers. He leans in and kisses my temple. “You should get some sleep so we can have fun tomorrow.”
“Mmm, I hate it, but you’re probably right.” Shifting, I slide away from him so he can rise. I remember our promise of sharing things, a promise I broke earlier tonight. “I love spending this time with you, wrapped in your arms like we used to do. I hate that we argued, but I’m happy you came back. What about you?”
He huffs a laugh and rolls his head to look down at me. “There was nothing about the last two hours I didn’t like.” With reluctance, he stretches and stands. “Night, Pom Poms.”
I swat him again for using the nickname I pretend not to like. “Night, Rafe.”
I watch him leave and head down the darkened lane to his cottage and promise myself that I will do better tomorrow. I’ll do the thing I’ve wanted him to do for so long—talk. Be honest. Say the thing that is bothering me. Because he’s worth it, our relationship is worth it. Above everything else, our future is worth it.
Chapter Fourteen
Rafe
Sunrises in Ireland arejust different. I can’t pinpoint it, really. I’ve seen all sorts of sunrises, even those shielded by cloudy skies and drizzling rain, but everything about them here is calmer. Slower. As if the sun itself knows I need a break from the real world for a little while.
I sincerely doubt Luna is awake this early, not after the late night we had, so I find contentment in staring out the window, watching sheep enjoy their breakfast. My mind wanders this way and that before finally drifting back to the day it all started. I’ve thought a lot about that fateful day, but now, rather than shove it out of the way in favor of focusing on the now, I let it fill my senses.
