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Raven stepped into the opening then, water collecting at the bottom of his eyelids. He must have been hiding by the stairs. He folded his arms in a way that expressed the need to hold himself together. I cried harder, letting out the pain, making room for the dreams coming true right in front of me. Thank you, I mouthed, my voice too shaken to offer sound. He gave a hard nod, eyes lowering to the hand I held out for him. He second-guessed for the length of a heartbeat before coming forward, allowing me to envelop them both in my arms.
A tattoo jutted from the hem of his shirt sleeve, stopping at the elbow. I couldn’t make it out from my position three seats away, but God, I wanted to. I wanted to know what he was thinking when he got it. How long it took to complete. If he had more. I wanted details on the barbel in his tongue. I wanted it to pass over my bottom lip again. I just wanted him. Time would never lessen the wanting.
piece of my heart chipped away. Raven loved riding. His bike was an extension of him, a limb. “What happened to your Harley?” “The winters are brutal and finding street parking is tough as shit with one vehicle,” he shrugged. “Two would’ve been insane.” The look in his eyes said it hurt, nonetheless. I’d need to find a solution for his dilemma before revealing that the Road King was his.
He used to smell like nicotine, fire, and mint. Now he smelled like sun, moon, and stars, all things that were promised to return. He smelled like second chances.
“I’ll never sacrifice you again. For nothing and no one. No one,” I made clear, because whoever would make that a requirement in order to love me, didn’t love me, and I only had room and time now for love. Pain had taken its fun. It was time for love to have a goddamn field day.
“My mother never wanting me doesn’t make me unwantable. It never did,” he whispered over my face. “Her not choosing me doesn’t make me unchoosable. And I no longer need your obsession, or your skin and bones, or to compromise myself in order to feel loved, be loved or to prove my love.” “What do you need, Raven?” “What you gave me so spectacularly. Love.” He shrugged. Plain and simple.
We stayed up all night talking and being quiet and reminiscing, too. And the next day, before he left, I scored a hug that put all prior hugs to shame. And I scored his phone number. A promise that this was only the beginning. A promise we would see through to the end.
“Have you slept at all?” he asked, coming in and cupping my jaw, my eyes nearly fainting from exhaustion. “No. Not without you.” “Take us to bed, sweetheart.” I led him upstairs, pulled back the sheet, and watched him undress before slipping in together. We didn’t talk, we didn’t kiss, and we didn’t have sex. We slept deeply and peacefully, intertwined and at home in each other’s arms. Finally.
“Have I won you, Raven?” “We live in different countries,” I said weakly. “I’ll move.” “What about the garage?” “I don’t care.” “You have to care. You employ people. And this is your dream—” “You’re my dream, and my fantasies, and my heart. We’ll make it work. I’ll drive or fly or run to you whenever I can. I’m setting things up so they can run efficiently without my constant presence. Now tell me,” he said, letting the ball roll away and restraining me by the hair. “Have I won you?”
On our last night before the start of our forever, Clint made love to me from behind, my hands braced on the windowpane, our eyes locked in its reflection. After, I’d turned into his chest, dragging a medicinal kiss over his bullet wounds. A souvenir from our time at war. “I relived that night every day for so long,” I’d said with strain. “Good came from it. Remember that. Hold on to it.” “I’ll never let it go,” I’d given my solemn oath, arching into his following affection.
“We’re off for a whole week,” I’d said stretching, voice full of morning gravel. “What’s the plan? And I swear, if you say watch the sunrise on the beach—” Clint had cut my threat short by rolling on top of me, kissing me silly. “You’re going to marry me.” His hair was sleep-disheveled, his eyes sunnier than the golden light blasting through the blinds. “No,” I’d said, trying to keep a straight face. “It wasn’t a question, sweetheart.”
Raven’s Wing now sat proudly next door to Second Chance Car Restoration’s new and improved hub. And when it became impossible to convince Clint that giving up my life in Canada wouldn’t cause later resentment, I reminded him of my dream for our future. “Joey will not only accept us, he’ll live next door. And your shop will be next to mine. That way, we can pop in to say I love you, or so you can bend me over your back-office desk in the middle of the day because…because you’ll still need me that bad.” Our future had arrived.
“I’m going to take you into the mountains to camp by the stream where we had our first kiss. We’re going to watch the sunset, and then I’m going to make love to you all night by a raging fire.” “Fuck. What are we waiting for?”
“This is what love should look like,” he whispered into my mouth. “This is what love should feel like,” I returned. “Home,” we said in unison. Love should feel like home…
My uncle provided perspective into who she was. Into the day she was taken, and the years she’d been missing before being rescued. We were both searching for something outside of ourselves to make the pain go away. To make us whole. To make us worthy, or to help us forget we were anything but.”
“I may have been responsible for your beginning, but you’re in charge of your end.” Her last words to me the night I left Mansfield. The words I’d eventually come to live by.
Clint kissed me, slow and steady, pulling back before things turned too hot, before our bodies began to burn down everything around us. “I’m enjoying this,” he explained. “I’ve never been more grateful for soft cocks in my life,” I said around a lopsided grin that he matched with a snort of laughter.
“This is our life now, huh?” “Yeah,” he whispered. “Isn’t it amazing?” “The fucking best.” “I love you, sweetheart.” “Then shut up and kiss the shit out of me.”
