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“Let me guess—to think through how much you love me?”
“Will you ever grow up?” Her smile is contagious and amplifies the constant rousing in my chest.
“Probably not.” I tap her button nose.
“Thought so.” There’s a long pause before she speaks again. “You’re never gonna let up on us being together, are you?”
“Never.”
“I’m scared. And I don’t trust myself.”
“Trust yourself with what?” I appreciate her risking her vulnerability right now. That alone makes the work I’ve put in worth it.
“Not to fall headfirst in love with you.”
My girl. Misunderstood, and the one everyone claimed would be difficult to love.
Loving her is easy. It’s weightless and as simple asbreathing.
It’s a necessity to live at this point.
I can no longer focus on my own heart’s protection when the woman beside me needs it more than mine ever could.
“You wouldn’t be alone, Tenley. Not when I’m already at the bottom of the fall.”
Am I in love with Tenley? I’m not sure. But I feel it coming. The brewing of a love so deep, I’d be a fool to wish it away.
And I know she feels it too. She just needs time.
Time to process the shift. Time to accept us.
There’s still a lot I have to learn about her, and I hope those truths give me answers as to what has hurt her so deeply. Deeply enough to shelter her heart from everyone she deems unworthy.
But whatreallymakes anyone unworthy?
Loving someone is subjective and entirely a matter of the heart. You can’t fight it or pray it away. It’s there and will always find its way back to you.
My own life has taught me that.
“Just give me some time…” she tells me, eyes filled with an intimate feeling I can’t quite place.
Her head falls to rest on my shoulder as I murmur the words I know she needs to hear, “Take all the time you need.”
“Look at you,Mamiiii. Looking beautiful as ever.”
“Not the day to tell me how glowing I look, Kingston. My thighs are chafing, and all I can thinkabout is how badly I want a Wendy’s frosty for these french fries. Okay?” Tenley retorts, shoving a handful of crinkle fries into her mouth.
Fuck. She’s pretty. Mouth stuffed full of greasy french fries, and my cock has never wanted her more.
This is getting extreme. Borderline obsession territory with my need to have her. Wherever and whenever I want.
I can’t help but tease her. “Yeah, man. Trust me. I learned the hard way with that one.” I rub her thigh under the table for good measure.
That earned me a french fry to the face.
We’re seated family style at a table for forty inside Boone, Brigg’s restaurant, to celebrate his daughter Addie’s ballet recital tonight. Briggs may have only re-joined the Strikers last year after taking a sabbatical once Addie was born, but he’s been the best addition back. The dude is one of the best guys I know and a kick-ass center fielder.
Seeing little Addie’s face light up on stage at the sound of the Strikers and staff cheering for her while she took her final bow is a moment I’ll never forget, and one I’m confident Briggs won’t either.
