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“Why am I so fucking stupid?” He throws his pencil across the room and drops his head into his hands. “What have I told you about that?” I give him a stern look to match my tone. I’ve worked hard to make him stop with the negative self-talk.
“Pizza will be here soon, then sleep. We have a game tomorrow.”
He reaches for my hand and places it on his stomach. I lift an eyebrow and look up at him. “Am I waiting to feel the baby kick?” “Rub it. It hurts.” I sigh but readjust on the bed so I can rub his stomach, the big baby. Secretly, I love it. I like taking care of him. I like that I can touch him sometimes, and I like that he only lets me do this for him.
With a quick movement, I smack Paul’s stomach with the back of my hand and wag my eyebrows at him. “I’m hungry. Feed me.”
A warm hand grips the back of my neck, and I flinch. Paul pulls me against him, grounding me in the present. “Breathe,” he whispers, and my body trembles. I close my eyes and rest my forehead against his chest, the phone basically forgotten against my ear.
He’s not great at taking care of himself. So sometimes I have to do it for him. I like doing it.
“Did you order me food?” He leans closer to the woman with that sexy smile on his face that I want directed at me. “I did,” I snap before she has a chance to say anything. Brendon’s eyes meet mine, and the smile changes to his normal dopey one. “Aw, thanks, buddy.” He kisses my cheek and wraps an arm around my neck. “I knew you loved me.” More than you know.
Nothing has ever felt as right as this moment, with this man, in this room. He’s my everything. And that terrifies me. I’m so gone for this boy.
Will he stop cuddling with me when he finds a partner? I don’t think I’ll survive.
Nikki reaches for my crocheted blanket, pulling it toward her, and Brendon doesn’t hesitate, just rips it from her grasp. “No. No one touches that.” He cradles it against his chest in a ball and turns his body away from her like she’ll reach around his arm to take it back. Fuck, I love him.
P DADDY: I’m at the library. Text Preston, he’s a dick. He’ll get rid of her. Oh, that’s a damn good idea. I pull up Preston’s messages and send him a message. OILER: Yo, big man, I need you to get a girl out of my dorm. P DAWG: So tell her to leave? OILER: But that’s mean! You do it. I’m pretty sure I can hear him sigh from here, but I don’t have to wait long before I hear the door open and Preston’s voice. “Time to go.”
“Did you eat dinner?” Paul’s voice is quiet. “Mmhmm.” Paul runs his fingers through my hair, and like a light switch, I’m out.
I gasp awake, my head jerking off the pillow as someone presses soft kisses across my shoulders. “Hey,” Paul whispers with his lips still against my skin. “I brought you food.”
“I knew you loved me. You feed me.”
Please don’t break my heart.
Using my foot, I drag the blanket up from the bottom of the bed and cover us, then shut off the TV, and fall asleep holding my favorite person.
“When I call or text, I need you to respond,” he grits out, looking me in the eye.
“Spoiler alert, I basically am your boyfriend.” Paul’s shoulders tighten as he prepares for me to hurt him badly.
“You’re mine. No one touches you but me. Do you understand?” Paul’s voice is warm but hard like he’s trying to keep himself under control. I nod and drop my forehead back to my arms so I don’t have to see him anymore.
My best friend, the love of my fucking life, is in pain and fighting himself.
A tear slides down his face, and I hate whoever made him feel like he’s too much. “You’re my favorite person. You’re my person. There’s nothing about you I would change. You hear me?”
My boy has a busy mind, and sometimes it takes him a while to work through all the thoughts.
I lay back against my pillow and stare at his bed, wishing he was here. Is he hurting again and too embarrassed to show me? Is he mad I saw him break down? Why can’t he let me love him?
I shove against him, but he barely budges. “Just fuck off! I didn’t ask you to save me!” “I love you. You don’t have to ask!” His angry red face is in mine.
brush my thumb across his cheek and watch him struggle to find the words. Tell me what you want and it’s yours. I’ll give you everything.
“I love you,” I whisper against his mouth. A sob tears from Brendon, and he wraps his arms around my neck, leans back, and pulls me down on top of him.
“What’s going on in that head?” He doesn’t sound judgmental, only curious. “Do you hate the tattoo?” His answer is immediate. “No.”
“Let’s get married.” A huge smile splits his face, and when it’s directed at me like this, it’s so damn hard to think straight. “We’re in Vegas. We can go down to one of the hundreds of chapels and get married. We don’t have to tell anyone if you don’t want to, but then you’ll be mine and I’ll be yours. Officially.”
“You’re mine,” he says quietly against my lips. “Forever and ever, amen.” I beam at him.
“I love you,” I whisper, opening my eyes to meet his. “So much it scares me.”
I love you, Paul. Please don’t leave me.
“I’m afraid of what will happen to me if I lose you.”
“Don’t leave me, okay?”
“Why are you so fucking beautiful?” Paul blurts out much louder than necessary since my face is two feet from his.
