Next of Kin (Next #1)

by Hannah Bonam-Young

I step forward, then lift onto the tips of my toes. I kiss him, sweet, soft, and brief. “Thank you for coming.” He raises one hand to his lips and smiles. “Anytime.”

“Of course she did. Strong women, our family.” She hesitates, then we say, barely above a whisper, “Strong brows, strong noses, strong bodies, strong hearts,” in unison.

“I—I miss her beyond measure, as I missed you all those years, but I know I could relapse. I know what that did to you. I know she’s better off…with you. The stronger version of me.”

“I think we get stronger with each generation. Like we’re evolving.” “Well, then.” Connie pauses and looks at my face with pride. “The world better watch out for her. Her sister is already the most incredible person I know.”

I imagine Warren sitting in the front seat of his car in the parking lot, and my heart flutters. Nothing has ever come close to the comfort I have received from him today. This morning in his arms, the firm hand clasped around mine at the hospital. He sees my messy…and stays. I shake my head, realizing what I’m about to say is perhaps the first time I’ve admitted it to myself as well. “I think I might be in love with him.”

“That’s so good, Chloe.” He pulls away slowly, kisses between my eyebrows, and leans back in. “Willow is going to stay with me….” I say it out loud for the first time, and it feels real. “I think the worst is over.” “It is, dove. It is. You did it.”

“Oh, happy birthday, by the way! Silly us! Happy birthday, darling.” My mom kisses my cheek and then signs to my dad, but I don’t focus enough to watch. I don’t know what stings more—my birthday being an afterthought or that the topic was meant to divert the conversation away from Willow. “Yes, happy birthday…twenty-five. I cannot believe it.”

“It is getting tense in there—fast. Give me the world’s cutest baby.” I take Willow from her car seat and tuck her in against me so I can continue signing. “Thank you for going.” “Warren got enough food to feed the entire floor, so at least our mouths will be busy,” Luke teases.

Warren pushes up the sleeves of his cable-knit sweater and pulls down on the bottom hem as I turn to walk down the hall. Wait, his cable-knit sweater? Did he dress up? He isn’t in his usual plain long sleeve T-shirt and ripped jeans. These jeans are black and hardly worn…. Are they new?

He flirts as a form of reassurance, and it works. He seems to know that what I need most is some of that confidence he has a surplus of. I hold Willow in the crook of my arm as I scoop food onto my plate with the other hand. Warren did order the entire menu.

“You are not allowed to speak to me like that anymore.” I attempt to hold my voice even. “I’m struggling, sure. It’s really hard. But I’m happy with my decision. This is how my life is going to be. Whether you like it or not. So you can either support me…or you can go.”

Warren takes one slow breath, then signs as he speaks. “Martina, I don’t know you very well, but I do know your daughter…Actually, I’m beginning to wonder if I know her better than you do.” He looks at me and the sleeping baby in my arms with affection.

“Chloe is the hardest-working person I know. I don’t think I know anyone else who could be a full-time parent to an infant with medical needs and still work. Did you know that Willow has medication she needs to take three times a day? That she requires daily monitoring for her heart? That she barely sleeps? Chloe doesn’t complain. Ever. On top of that, she’s still a good friend to Luke and me. She’s exhausted.”

“Maybe if Chloe had felt safe to ask for help once in a while, she’d be less hard on herself. It seems, however, that she was taught not to accept help from anyone.”

Warren looks to me briefly before continuing, an apology in his eyes. “So…yes. I hear how she is speaking to you, and frankly, I wouldn’t have been so kind.”

“And no, I don’t speak to my mother like that because…my junkie mother is dead.”

I love him. That’s all I can think right now. I love Warren. I take his hand in mine. Damn further comments or judgments from my mother. She stands, outraged, and my father reaches up and slowly pulls her back down to her seat. She turns on him in a fury, and my parents share a conversation with glances back and forth.

We lower into our chairs, still holding hands. Warren grips mine tighter and brings it to his lap, wrapping his other hand around the back and squeezing it between his two palms before letting go.

We all talk until we’ve had our dinner, ignoring the scene that just took place. Though I don’t forget what Warren said for a single moment. The way he had commanded the attention of the room, defending me from the same judgments he had made of me a few months ago.

As I look back at him, I can feel myself forgetting to hide what’s fighting its way out. I love you. My eyes might literally have cartoon hearts popping out of them. Luke coughs, dragging our attention back to the other side of the room.

“Well, I’m going to go to my room now…have fun thanking him, I guess. Just don’t do it out here.” He goes to stand, and I toss a pillow at him. He laughs, and I roll my eyes.

“Do we kiss on birthdays?” he asks, voice raspier than usual. “We did on yours…” “So are we kissing now?” “Like right now? No.”

“What are you doing this Friday?” I ask. “Putting the final touches together for our date on Saturday.” His mouth curves into a grin. “Yeah?” My face glows, and I look away to hide it, feeling shy at how excited a date with him makes me, how active the butterflies in my stomach are. My first real date.

I swallow before I stand. Warren reaches out and grabs one of my hands, twirling me back around to face him. “Yes?” I look down at him as I speak. His face is all wounded puppy; it’s impossible not to laugh.

Warren places an arm over the back of the couch, his hand behind my shoulder. I place my hand on his forearm and rub my fingers over the knit of his sweater. I know that we’re going to kiss at some point this evening…but we should probably talk first, right? This was so much easier when we were acting impulsively. Now there’s a month’s worth of learned self-restraint to combat.

Warren uses the arm draped across the couch to hook my shoulder and bring me into his lap. I move willingly, placing my knees on either side of his thighs and sitting back, my ass resting above his knees. My hands wrap around his neck. Warren brings his hands to my hips, looping his thumbs through the belt loops of my jeans on either side.

“I kinda”—Focus, Chloe—“find it hard to think like this.” My mind is fuzzy, straddling Warren. I’m in two places, physically being touched in this new way and position and somehow also in my bedroom—where I have pictured being on top of him time and time again.

I close my eyes to focus on what I’d like to say, but the distracting ache in me grows. I open them, but looking down at Warren is just as unhelpful. His eyes are dark and full of wanting. His jaw tenses as he looks down at where our laps meet. Then he looks back up to my face and flips one strand of hair b...

“Chloe, I’m so sorry,” he says quietly. That’s not what I was expecting. “What? No, y...

“Chloe, I could go on forever about how wrong I was. How incredible you are….” He clears his throat. “How much I love you.” I tense from surprise. He loves me.

“I love you, Chloe.” His chest falls on a long exhale, and he lowers the hand from my cheek to my wrist resting at his side. “Is that okay for me to say? I haven’t said it to anyone other than family before, I don’t—” “Yes!” I interrupt. He tilts forward to kiss me, and I lean back, remembering I missed my cue.

“I love you too.” “Well, thank fuck for that.” His nose crinkles when he’s this happy; I take a mental picture. We both smile at each other for far too long, like the idiots we are.

I gasp as he stands up, holding me against him and shifting so my legs wrap around his waist. He spins us around until I’m giggling and clinging to him for dear life. He kisses my cheeks and chin and neck as we spin and spin and spin, and he repeats “I love you,” over and over.

“Okay! Stop! Put me down!” He falls flat on the couch. I land on top of him. He’s still smiling—the longest I’ve ever seen from him. “Damn,” he groans out. “What?” I brush a hand over his jaw. “I couldn’t even find something to be mad about right now if I wanted to.”

“I like it here,” I mumble against him. He wraps his arms around me, squeezing me tight before drifting his hands down my back…and lower. I look up to meet his face and raise an eyebrow. He laughs. “What? We love each other, but I can’t touch your butt? That’s lame.” “See, I knew I could get you to complain about something…”

I kiss his lips, smiling against them. He nips at me, and I give it right back. You’re so annoying…no, you are!

Our kiss deepens; lips finding teeth, and tongues finding each other. Warren pushes up to sit, and I settle into his lap again, aware of the scrape of our jeans that separate us so rudely. He reaches for my shirt and pulls it up over my head before he trails kisses across my cheek, to my ear, down to my jaw and neck.

He palms my breast with a steady hand, and I reel from the touch, moaning at the firmness of his palm. “I really love these too,” ...

I hook my arms around his neck as he pulls the skin of my throat into his mouth, and the moans escaping me lengthen. The air around us is buzzing, full of kinetic excitement and desire. I pull at the neck of his sweater ...

I lean back to look at him. Mine, some primal part of my brain hums. I trace one finger down the center of his chest until I hit the space where my lap meets his. Then I wander back up to his should...

“Is this a good time to say I love you again? Because I really want to keep saying it.” I kiss his jaw and feel his cheek raise against me, smiling. “Never stop saying it.” Warren brings two steady hands around my back and runs them up and down my spine, sending tingles through my nervous system. He kisses m...

As he stands up, I wrap my legs around his back. “Can I take you to my room?” he asks, voice heavy, but tone sincere. I kiss him ferociously in response, de...

“I’d prefer if-if for our first time…” “Okay, yes. Whatever you want.” He kisses my cheek and slowly lowers me to the ground. I fiddle with my bra strap as I look away from him. My cheeks and chest flush. “Hey…don’t do that.” He reaches out, taking my jaw in his hand like he did the day he moved in—in almost this exact spot. “We’ve waited; we can wait more.” He smiles, and I can’t help but match.

I unhook my bra and let it slip to the floor before pulling his T-shirt over my head. Warren’s eyes flare wide and he shoots up. “No, no. That was way too fast…do it again.” His voice strains. I huff out a laugh and look down at the shirt he chose for me. “Is this band merch? Damn, this makes me feel like a cool girl. The cool girl sleeps with the drummer of the band.”

“Well, first of all. I saw your breasts for the first time, and they’re perfect. Even from the shortest viewing, which you’re evil for, by the way…” He raises himself to lean on one elbow. “Second, you said you’d be cool for sleeping with me, which is a massive ego boost.” I slip under the covers and turn on my side to face him. His smile is even better up close.

“Lastly, you look so fucking adorable in my clothes that I want to rip them off you.” He bunches the fabric at my waist into his fist, pulling me to his lower half, where the evidence of his attraction is obvious through his sweatpants.

I skate my teeth across my lower lip, trying to conceal my prideful smirk. I’ve got Warren, man of few words, giving speeches and making lists out loud. I feel powerful. “Soon,” I say, aching for more.

He relinquishes his grip and lies flat on his back. I curl into his side, hooking one leg across him. Warren’s bed is firmer than mine but smells of him; it’s like being in a sexy cocoon. My eyes close, despite my best efforts. His body is the perfect warmth against my cramping stomach, and his heavy breaths lull me into an all-encompassing sort of...

He draws circles on the middle of my back. “I love you, dove,” he whispers into the still, dark room. I fight against sleep to mumble out my next words. “When I’m not so tired,...

He kisses the top of my head, breathes me in, and relaxes back into his pillow. I drift off to sleep listening to his steady heartbeat, my...