done. Just leave it.”
I rush forward the moment I see her start to close the door. She’s in my arms in the next second, and I’m kicking the door closed behind us. “Stop, please. Tell me what happened,” I plead.
I have her pinned between me and a wall and I’m not moving until she tells me exactly what happened—what made her run not only from the party, but from me.
“I don’t fit in with those people, and that only reminded me that I don’t fit into your world. If we get married, I’ll just be forced into this little box of expectations—not only by your father, but by your friends too. I don’t want that. I don’t want to live constantly worrying if I’ll be accepted. I don’t want the headache of always having to play a role and keep up appearances. That’s your world. Not mine.”
I shake my head. “That’s not my world anymore, and I realized that tonight. I was there waiting by the restroom door for you. I was going to take you away from there. I want you—not them. Not that life.”
She shakes her head. “You don’t want me. You want the version of me you created: the woman who goes to the gym, who knows which fork to use for the salad, and who wears priceless family heirlooms and doesn’t have to bother to shop because the store will come to her. That’s not me.”
“Dammit, Poppy! I don’t care about any of that. You don’t want the ring? Fine! I’ll give it back to my grandmother. I’ll buy you one from Walmart if you want! You don’t want the dresses, fine. I’m pretty sure we’ll never need another one after we get married anyway. I don’t want that world anymore. I want the world we’ve created. Please . . .” My words fall away as I rest my forehead against hers. “Please, just don’t leave. I’ll give you anything you want. I’ll give up anything you want. I just want you. I only need you.”
I take a chance and press my lips to hers. They’re stiff—not yet ready to give in. But I breathe her in deeply, letting her scent settle over me like a thick blanket. I can feel her in my mind, heart, and soul. My whole body is consumed with her like she’s a drug and I’m addicted. I’m ready to give myself over.
“Please,” I beg against her lips. “I only want you. I love you,” I say, kissing her jaw and her neck as my hands roam her body, grasping anything I can hold on to.
“Please,” I beg again, making my way back to her lips. “I love you,” I repeat.
I feel her resolve give way. Her love for me comes rushing out. Her lips move with mine and her hands move up to fist in my hair. She tugs me closer, even though it’s impossible to get any closer without moving through her. Now that she’s kissing me, I know that everything will be okay. I pick her up against me and carry her into the living room. I have no idea where her room is, but I don’t care. All I need is her. I don’t need a bed.
I press her back against the wall again and her hands get busy pulling my clothes away.
“I love you too,” she whispers.
I pull back and see fresh tears in her eyes. I raise my hands, wiping them away with my thumbs. “Don’t cry. I’m here. We’re together. That’s all we’ll ever need.” My lips crash against hers again, and this time, we don’t stop. We don’t stop kissing, or touching, or loving. One round of lovemaking only leads us to the bedroom where we start all over again.
After round four, we finally fall asleep, holding on to each other like that’s the only thing that matters, ‘cause it is the only thing that matters.
In the morning, I wake and find her sound asleep next to me. She’s still naked from the night before, the blanket only covering her lower half as she sleeps on her stomach, facing me. She’s beautiful—breathtaking. Why isn’t there a stronger word for what she is to me? I’m not just in love with this woman. I am absolutely, completely, irrevocably, totally in love—wrapped up, consumed with her. She’s the reason I breathe. She’s the reason I was born. She’s the reason I’m going to have a good, long, happy life. Gravity isn’t holding me here anymore.