Page 57 of The Boyfriend List
"I couldn't stand the thought of losing you forever. Not just as a friend, but as… as everything. Everything we could be together. I know it’s selfish of me, because I don't want kids, and you do."
She blinks, not saying anything, just taking my words in.
"I've always felt guilty about dating. Like I'd be selfish for getting married and having kids. Because that would mean I was leaving my family. And someone has to be there to hold everything together."
The elevator stops at her floor, and we get out. After we walk the mercifully short distance to her apartment, we sit down on her couch in the living room.
"London," Gloria murmurs, gazing up at me with her wide, dark eyes. "You can't do that to yourself. You can't just sacrifice your happiness—your future—your life to be your family’s unpaid therapist. They can take care of themselves."
I take a deep breath, drawing in her words more than the oxygen. They settle into my mind, but my heart is still weighed down. “But I have to. No one else will.”
“Who takes care of you?”
I pull her into my arms. “You, Gloria. It’s always and only been you.”
“Kiss me,” she whispers, looking up at me. “Please.”
Knowing she's never been kissed before fills me with… possessiveness? Protectiveness? I want to take care of her, to make her happy, to make this unforgettable for her.
Threading my fingers into her hair, I leave a trail of kisses along her jaw and neck, hearing her gasp as I do so. My lips curve into an involuntary smile against her skin. She tilts her head back, allowing me to make my way down to her collarbone.
"London," she whispers, her fingers digging into my biceps. Her legs are draped across my lap, and I'm surrounded by her. Her warmth, her sweet scent, her voice and breath andeverythingabout her. This kiss is everything I've dreamed about and yet so much more than I could have imagined.
"Yes?" I pause, my lips tracing over her collarbone. I nip at her skin lightly with my teeth, and she tenses, her nails sinking into my skin. "Sorry, was that too much?"
She meets my gaze, her brown eyes drawing me into this moment and entrapping me there. "It was perfect."
Looking down at her as she rests her head on my shoulder, I'm overcome by the realization that she doesn't merely like me as a friend, but as something so much more. That she might feel the same all-consuming, slow-burning, steadfast love that I do for her.
Nothing about this day has been expected. Yet by some twist of fate, I've wound up with her. With the most beautiful, intelligent, caring, and selfless woman I've ever known.
"Do you want to watch a movie or something?" Gloria asks, when we've been sitting on her couch, wrapped up in one another for what could be seconds or hours.
"Or something…" I repeat with a raise of my eyebrows. "What does 'or something' include?"
"Nothing that you're thinking of." She pokes me in the arm like she can read my thoughts. She probably can. "Play a board game."
"You just had your first kiss, and now you want to play Monopoly? Clearly, I was doing a bad job if you can think clearly enough to play a board game."
"Oh my gosh." Gloria rolls her eyes. "Should I be completely incapacitated for the next twenty-four hours in order to prove how much I enjoyed it?"
Urged on by her dramatics, I laugh and say, "I was hoping you could just hire a skywriter and give me a five-star review."
"No." Her eyes narrow at me. She picks up a throw pillow—this one is velvet and heart-shaped—and whacks me on the arm with it. “A review would imply that you need other people to know how good of a kisser you are. And only I get to know that.”
I scramble for another pillow to return the favour. "Are you bludgeoning me with your love?"
She glances down at the pillow and realizes it's heart-shaped. "You have the strangest reaction to being smacked with a pillow."
"It's a heart," I say. "Clearly, this is you throwing yourself at me."
She bites her lip, obviously holding in her laughter. I don't want her to hold it in. I want to hear her laugh every day, for the rest of my life.
"Did you mean what you said to me?" she asks. "In the parking garage?"
"You mean, am I actually in love with you?" I toss the pillow I had picked up onto the floor.
"Yes." She twists her hands together, fidgeting with one of her gold rings. Is she… shy?
