Page 68 of Spark
His eyelids look like a high-speed camera shutter for as quickly as they’re blinking. Slightly swaying, he clamps a hand on the nearby workstation. “For people you… love?”
"Um…" My mouth goes dry, and my heart, which was roaring earlier, is now pacing like an anxious jaguar as I try to come up with a scenario that will not include me telling my ex that I do, in fact, love him. How crappy would that be? I couldn’t tell him when we were together, but a month into our break-up, I’m declaring my love? Before I hyperventilate myself out of here in the form of passing out and having an ambulance called—which isn’t the worst idea I’ve ever had—a calm descends.
We agreed to be honest, to have open communication, and that should include when we’re no longer a couple. Straightening my shoulders, I stand erect. Might as well own it. "Yes. I can be overprotective of the people I love." I lift my hand. "And before you ask, you were one of the people I loved."
He chews his plump bottom lip while his eyes dart back and forth between mine. "Iwasone of the people you loved?”
Shit. Well, here goes nothing.
“Areone of the people I love." With my admission, each of my arms become three-hundred-pound weights. I fold them in front of me—because what else does one do with six-hundred pounds of limbs—and maintain eye contact. Presenting as sure and in command even when one feels differently is essential in business. It can’t make things any worse than they already are with my love life, so why not give confidence a shot?
In a flash, Mateo is on me, chest pressed to my chest, forcing my crossed arms to fall to my sides. His hands grip my hips, and his lips hover a breath from mine. His eyes are wild, pupils round and ready to burst. “You love me?”
“Yes.”
His mouth crashes down with the kind of desperation that has been a part of my daily life since he told me to leave. My arms find him, pulling him closer, and I open to him. When our tongues meet, I’m grounded. After weeks of being untethered, Mateo’s touch brings balance, centers and steadies me. This is unreal. The self-preservation part of me screams to stop right now because there is no way I’ll survive if this is just some kind of closure thing for him. But the greedy, needy part of me kicks self-preservation out of this moving vehicle and white-knuckles it while pressing down on the gas. Consequences be damned.
Hands tracing my spine, he slows the kiss. I want to chase his mouth when he pulls away, but I manage to refrain. Forehead pressed to mine, the warmth of his breath hits my cheek. “I’m sorry too. I’ll work on being better about asking for and accepting help.”
Suddenly, there’s a lump the size of a rugby ball lodged in my throat, and there’s no swallowing it down. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I love you. That I’ve been miserable without you. That maybe it would be better if we worked to help each other.” With the pad of his thumb, he traces the dark circle under my left eye. “I’m saying that while you work on being less like your mother, and I work on accepting help, maybe we could work on a life together.” Expression expectant, he studies me like his future happiness is dependent on my answer.
Eyes stinging and heart ready to pound out of my damn chest, I gape at him. “What exactly are you saying, Mateo? I need you to spell it out for me.”
"I'm saying…" The back of his fingers trace my jawline, and I lean into his touch. "I want you in my life, be it dating, living together, or marriage, I don't care. Just as long as we're together." His lips are a whisper on my forehead, achingly wholesome. "I've been a mess without you."
Grasping the hand on my face, I twine our fingers together just as I want our lives to intertwine. “Yes.”
“Yes, to what?” Lips slightly parted, his anticipation suffuses every part of my being with hopeful restlessness.
I bring our hands to my chest. “Yes, to figuring it out together. Yes, to life, whatever that looks like, together.”
This time when he claims my mouth, it’s a baptism of liberation that awakens and transforms. He walks me backward until my ass hits a solid surface. Just as I reach around to grab a handful of his backside, there’s a pounding on the glass.
With a growl, Mateo pulls away. I look over his shoulder to find Cam, Aileene, Sofia, and Eve, with all three kids. “Sofia and Eve and the kids are here now.”
In a flash, Mateo grabs my hand and stalks toward the door. Cam unlocks it with the smirkiest of knowing smirks. Aileene, Sofia, and Eve are all tied for runner-up.
“Yay!” Olive jumps up and down, her arms in the air. “Uncle Fin and Teo found their smiles!”
"Yay!" Mateo's niece, Isabella, takes Olive's hands, and they jump in circles as they chant, "Smiles win, smiles win," while three-year-old Elliot follows suit.
Mateo and I hug our siblings amongst an array of,it’s about times, andI knew its.
Cam claps Mateo on the back, grinning like it’s Olive’s dance recital when she nailed the solo. “What toppings do you two want on your pizza?”
Mateo shakes his head, lacing his fingers with mine and tugging me toward the elevators. "We're going home, and I'm letting Finlay take care of me."
When he peeks over his shoulder, every explicit desire is conveyed in his smolder. I squeeze his hand, steady in the knowledge that we are partners, stronger and more certain because of what we’ve been through. “And I’m going to let Mateo buy me dinner.”
At the elevator, Mateo pulls me into his arms, kissing me with enough passion to spark a wildfire in the Arctic Circle. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” I breathe him in, reveling in the scrape of his scruff. “Let’s go home.”
Epilogue
Mateo
