Page 14 of Meant for Them
He groans a little at the honorific, and I know in the way he cradles my jaw, that he's getting ready to kiss me for real.
Books always make a first kiss seem like this giant thing, where time stops and things seem to rearrange themselves. What I'm not expecting, when his larger-than-mine lips press against me, is for how right it feels. How easy it is to press back against them, to move with them, intertwining my hand around the back of his neck to keep him fastened to me.
In no time at all he’s got my legs wrapped around his hips, and I can feel him hard and hot against my center, catching me by surprise. I gasp and pull my face away from his, heart racing even harder. He's got these incredibly rich brown eyes, fanned by eyelashes that a man like him will never appreciate. He has a gentle face; I never noticed that before.
“That's going to happen if you're touching me at all. Don't worry about him if you're not ready.”
Does he expect sex from me if he's going to help me out? Is this like, a transactional thing? I almost start resigning myself to having to give it up to get what I need, and then I stop myself. I'm not giving him that power.
Instead, I stand and take a few steps back, wrapping my arms around myself. “I'm sure you're used to being with people much more experienced, but my whole life has effectively been turned inside out, and I've never even had a boyfriend before. This is... a lot to take in.”
He stands, stretching out his lower back by pressing his hips forward. I avert my eyes, because if I don't, I know I’ll just ogle the bulge behind his zipper. “Why don't you get some rest? Maybe you'll come join me for dinner in a little while? I'll prepare it myself. I don't think I told you officially, but I filed charges against Rayna. She won't be in my home again— our home. I hope.”
He leaves without waiting for an answer from me, which I kind of like. I don't feel pressured to be agreeable, I can decompress and think in this bed he's given me to use. And maybe close my eyes. I'll probably end up joining him for dinner, because it was another genuine offer, and I need to eat anyway. Maybe we can start as friends and then go from there.
six
Morgan
After that heavy conversation, things begin to shift.
I don’t wake up feeling uncomfortable, I start to pretend that I actually live in the house, not that I’m just staying here temporarily. It’s nicer than anything I’ve ever gotten to sleep in, so I try to appreciate it properly.
True to his offer, he’s gotten me set up with an online high school program and a brand-new laptop that I’m still figuring out how to use, and I’ve found it’s kind of nice to work on my school work sprawled out on the plush carpeting of his office while he’s working on his own projects.
We fall into an easy rhythm, and I get used to simply being around him.
I find myself feeling off when he has to travel out of the house to visit physical offices or building sites, but I haven’t gotten brave enough to ask if I can tag along yet.
I should be able to get my high school stuff done in less than a year since I can go at my own pace and work as much as I want to, which helps, and I keep telling myself to not be embarrassed about my situation, that I’m in my early twenties and taking high school courses, because having a degree is important to me. I could have gone for a GED, but this just felt like a better fit for me.
It's so easy being around Alex, in fact, that I start to wonder why he hasn’t made any other moves on me. He has made it clear he’s interested, but every time I’m around him, I feel like a horned-up version of myself that just wants to straddle him and roll around a bit and make out.
I don’t know how much longer I can go without breaking.
I’m just wrapping up for the day, stretching and about to go grab a cold drink, preferably something with caffeine, when Alex walks in the door, smelling like fresh sunshine and carrying a heavy paper bag.
He hasn’t spotted me yet, so I watch from behind a corner as he meticulously hangs up his jacket and slips off his shoes, carefully handling the bag.
“Hey,” I offer, so he doesn’t look up suddenly and see me, and think I’m being a creep. I kind of am, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“Oh. Uh, hey. Hello.”
We stand there awkwardly, staring at each other, and he begins to shift his weight back and forth. “I, uh, got you something.”
He thrusts the bag at me and walks off, embarrassed maybe? I carry the bag to the counter so I can open it, and I find a stack of books that are familiar. At first, I stare at them, dumbly, not knowing what to make of the gift. It’s an incredibly thoughtful gesture, he clearly went out of his way to find a bookstore that carried them all, and I…fuck. I’m going to cry. Over a stack of books.
“I got the right ones, didn’t I? I had the sales lady check the picture on my phone several times.”
I wave him off and hug a few of the books to my chest. “You remembered. You saw something at my old place you thought was important to me and you remembered it. Thank you. This is…gods I feel so stupid. I don’t mean to be all weepy, but this is the best gift anyone’s ever gotten me. They’re beautiful.”
And they are. Not only did he buy the entire stack of books that I had checked out at my old library and had to return, but he bought sequels for a few of them as well, and two special editions.
“I’ve never had pretty books like these.”
He rubs the back of his neck and places a careful hand on my lower back. “It feels like such a paltry gift, but I’m glad you like them. I just wanted to get you something that’s yours. Something I knew for sure you’d use.”
I place them carefully back in the bag and stalk him across the kitchen, backing him up until he’s against the opposite counter, my stockinged feet stepping between his. “It’s more than books. It’s you paying attention to something.”
