33. CHAPTER 33

CHAPTER 33

“All I want is to be loved by you”

Loved By You – Chelsea Cutler

Deon

I twirl the bracelet in my grip, my nerves racing wildly as I wait for Nathalie to respond.

To say anything.

Does she hate what I’ve done?

Was it too much?

Were we all wrong and she wants nothing to do with me?

I spiral rapidly when she whips her wrist out.

“Put it on,” she demands, and I waste no time in tying the bracelet around her delicate wrist. It sits with the other two, each with their own meaning and my heart thumps in my chest. Nathalie cradles my face between her palms.

“I always thought I wanted a wild, reckless type of love. One with grand confessions and boom boxes in the rain. But I was wrong.” A tear tracks down her cheek. “I want the love that I found with you. Nothing about it was wild or hot like a wildfire, but it was a slow, steady growth until you consumed my every thought.”

She pulls her lip between her teeth.

The tremor in my hands that I banished returns with a vengeance and I grab onto Nathalie’s hand. She squeezes gently.

“ I would rather spend one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone .” She quotes Arwen from The Lord of the Rings and the few simple words send my world out of orbit. “I love you, Deon. More than I thought it was possible to love someone.”

Hot tears spill onto my cheeks.

Never did I believe I would hear these words again, but most of all, I didn’t think I was worthy of them.

Not until I met her.

The woman who watches dating shows religiously and devours romance novels. Who loves the Lord of the Rings and has an unhealthy obsession with Orlando Bloom. The woman who bought into my variety of weird and sips tea and works on puzzles at night and always makes sure my favorite snacks are in the fridge.

She made me believe that the person I am is worthy of love without having to dim myself.

“I love your dimples and that cocky smile you get when you’re right about something.” Her chest racks with laughter. “I love that your cat hates you, yet you still feed the asshole expensive food. I love that you’re ridiculously tidy and devour seasoned pretzels and mint chocolate chip ice cream. I love that you let me warm my toes with your calves and that you’re more invested in our dating show than I am. Every day, I’ve found another reason to love you.”

Her hand grazes my jaw and I turn to kiss her palm.

“I want to spend every day of the rest of my life loving you, if you’ll let me,” I murmur against her skin.

She lifts a brow, barely containing her smile. It strikes my solar plexus, leaving a soft warmth behind in my chest.

“Ask me,” she demands.

“Forever?”

Forever and one day more,” she confirms, tackling me as her laughter fills the air. My limbs flail as she wraps her arms around my neck, peppering kisses to my face.

The moment is surreal and the adrenaline pumping through my veins is all that keeps my mind centered. It’s not sinking in, not really.

I’m hearing the words and feeling her lips against my skin but my brain isn’t quite processing that she’s saying yes. Choosing me. Choosing us.

Reality strikes when her hand snakes around my back and pinches my ass, hard . “I get to do that for the rest of my life!” she yells, brimming with excitement.

That’s what settles my reality.

I get to spend the rest of my life in fear that Nathalie’s going to pinch my ass…and I’m fucking thrilled .

When she kisses me again, it’s soft and tender and hesitant. The first kiss to start something new, something permanent.

“No more fucking rules,” I grumble against her skin. “I’m burning that list.”

My eyes flicker to the drawer where the paper lives and I imagine holding a lighter to it and watching it burn to ash.

It’s a glorious image.

“No! We have to put it in the scrapbook.” Nathalie sobers, sitting up in my lap. “What does this all mean?”

My hands fall on her hips and I savor the feeling of her skin beneath my palms. There’s a rock lodged in my throat as I say, “I’m hoping you’ll be my girlfriend.”

“You’re real one?” Her smile is playful, teasing and so beautiful. “I think I’m tired of being a fake girlfriend.”

“And I want you to move in with me. Only if you want. If you want to move back into your apartment, I’ll respect that, but I’m pretty sure that place should be condemned and Creepy—”

She blessedly cuts off my rambling.

“You’re okay with my mess?” I nod. “Then I would love to live here with you. I’ll try to be tidier, though. I can work on that.”

The concern that flies across her gaze tells me she’s not confident in her ability to be tidier and I open my mouth to tell her she doesn’t need to change that for me, but she shakes her head and I let it go. If she wants to try, then who am I to stop her?

I love her, regardless of if she becomes tidier.

“Now, I want to kiss you and not have to pretend that it means nothing,” I say, “because kissing you is everything .”

Nathalie rolls her eyes, but her blush gives her away.

“Always so dramatic,” she teases, but her eyes dart to my lips. “But I think that’s a great first step in our new, real relationship. May I suggest working our way through the bases after you kiss me?”

“Fuck, yes,” I groan, taking her mouth in a claiming kiss.

It’s overflowing with raw, untethered emotion as her hands clutch my cheeks, guiding the kiss. Tears spring to my eyes as I hold onto her waist, using her as a tether to Earth as all of the emotions the adrenaline was hiding crash against my chest.

Hope. Happiness. Belonging.

Since I moved to Seattle, there has always been a lack of belonging. That empty feeling dulled slightly when I met Jack, Henry and Declan, but it was still there, a persistent pest.

I wanted to belong to someone. Be the shoulder they leaned on. Their cheerleader and number one supporter. And I wanted someone to belong to me, to offer those same things to me when I need them.

Never thought I would find that in the woman I strong-armed into acting as my fake girlfriend.

Our clothing is discarded in minutes and as Nathalie’s nails trail along my skin, leaving a trail of electricity in their wake, she leans in close, lips hovering an inch away.

“I love you,” she whispers reverently before sinking to her knees.

My throat bobs at the sight of her, so beautiful on her knees.

So stunning as she takes me into her mouth.

This is heaven, being here with her, knowing that she chose me. I nearly come undone when she swirls her tongue around the tip of my cock.

“Fu-uck,” I groan, fingers tangling in her hair, guiding her up and down. Her hand works in tandem with her tongue, stroking and licking and teasing until the muscles in my thighs jump and twitch.

Her hand slides down my thigh to cup my balls and I groan. “Oh, shit.”

Nathalie’s pace quickens until I’m shaking with the need. I want to come, but not like this, not without her.

I gently pull her off and she releases me with a pop and a tantalizing smile.

“Had enough?” she teases and her laughter is abruptly cut off when I whisk her off her feet, throw her over my shoulder, and drop her onto the bed.

Her eyes are wide behind her glasses as she bobbles on the bed, her breasts bouncing as she falls back. Like second nature, her legs fall open and I bask in the glorious sight of Nathalie naked in my bed.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

My brain chants the mantra over and over while I hover over her, placing hot, languid kisses on her skin, along her torso, and down to the apex of her thighs.

“This is mine for the rest of your life,” I say, placing a soft kiss on her clit. Nathalie bucks, searching for more.

“Deon,” Nathalie moans, arms trying to guide my head to where she wants me, but I deny her. I want to hear it.

Say she’s mine.

“Say it,” I demand. “Tell me your mine. Now and forever.”

Her chest heaves as she leans onto her elbows and with conviction that sends my heart stammering, she says, “ Only yours . And you’re mine. We belong to each other.”

Nathalie grips my wrist, thumb trailing along the friendship bracelet she made for me all those months ago. Snatching her hand, I place a kiss on her palm, then place her wrists over her head.

“Keep them there,” I command. Her eyes darken but she nods and promptly launches off the bed as I drag my tongue through her slit, nearly unraveling from the taste of her on my tongue .

She coats my chin with her arousal as I twirl my tongue around her clit, listening to her breathing. Her breath hitches and I repeat the movement, sliding a finger inside her.

“Oh, oh, ” she moans, barely restraining herself from moving her hands, “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

“Such a pretty girl when you beg,” I murmur against the inside of her thigh. Curling my fingers upward, I hit her g-spot as I focus my tongue on her clit, alternating between feather-light flicks and sucking. “Come for me. I want you to come on my tongue.”

Her walls tighten around my fingers and she explodes, a wild, breathy moan falling from her lips, followed by my name.

I work her through her orgasm, only stopping when she flops back onto the bed, catching her breath.

“Condom,” she breathes, wildly patting around the bed. “I’m seeing stars, but find a condom.”

I chuckle, sliding a condom down my shaft and coating myself in the wetness between her thighs. I drag myself up and down, teasing her and she groans.

Notching myself at her entrance, I slide in, just an inch, then back out. She releases a small, strangled cry when I do it again.

“Deon,” she grumbles with a small groan, but her head falls back with a moan when I lean down and take her breast into my mouth, gently tugging her nipple between my teeth.

Fuck, I love those little sounds. The ones she makes when she’s frustrated but also so turned on that her eyes slam shut.

“Beg for it. Beg for my cock.” I slide in a bit further and her nose crinkles when I step away.

“God, please. Fuck me. Right now.”

“That’s my pretty girl.”

With one strong thrust of my hips, I bottom out and she moans in pleasure, clutching at the sheets as I piston in and out of her.

“Oh, fuck. Shit,” she cries out as her body absorbs the thrusts, her breasts bouncing. Her legs lift to wrap around my waist, deepening the angle and stars burst along my vision from how deep I’m inside her.

There’s no me or her, only us as she meets every thrust, pulling at my neck to crash our lips together. She begins to tighten around me and I relax the pace, chuckling when she protests with a groan.

“Eyes open, baby. I want to see those pretty eyes when you come.”

Soft, brown eyes, the color of tilled soil, meet my gaze before she explodes, back arching off the bed and clinging onto me like I’m a lifeline keeping her on Earth. Pleasure zaps down my spine as I barrel closer to my orgasm and my legs twitch with restraint before I erupt, head dropping to her shoulder as her fingernails dig into the muscles of my back.

The air is knocked from my lungs as my orgasm takes hold, my vision blurry and pulse erratic.

It’s never felt like this before.

Nathalie and I have had great sex but this was…this was a homecoming. A declaration. A claiming of each other.

Gently releasing Nathalie, I flop onto the bed beside her, fighting to catch my breath. Her fingers intertwine with mine.

“Greatest sex ever,” she declares, raising her free hand for a high-five. My limbs are Jell-O and I need to clean us up, but I choke on my laughter when I high five her back.

“We’re really good at this,” I joke.

“If great sex was an Olympic sport, we would have gold metals.”

Nathalie cackles at her joke when I groan and lift off the bed, cleaning myself up and returning with a towel for her.

She’s slipping on her horrifying pajamas, wiggling her eyebrows as she twirls.

It’s so ugly and yet, so, so sexy.

“Do you know what no rules mean?!” she yells, jumping up and down. “It means we can cuddle and not pretend that it’s platonic!”

She gives me about three seconds to process before she slams into me and we tumble into bed, our laughter filling the air.

“Is this real?” Nathalie asks, fingers trailing along my torso as we lay in bed. Our breathing is timed and I hold her in my arms, thinking the same thing to myself.

I kiss the top of her head and my chest warms as the soft sigh she releases when my lips press against her skin.

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” I whisper, the guilt of not telling her sooner lingering. “I don’t ever want you to feel unloved and I’m sorry that was how you felt, regardless of whether or not it’s true.”

Nathalie’s quiet, but her features are contemplative as she looks around the room, to Gordie lying at the edge of the bed, and finally to me .

“I can’t say it was a great feeling,” she starts and my stomach sinks. I’ll have to do everything I can to banish those memories. “But I also think I missed your signals in my stubbornness. You told me you didn’t want to date and I took that at face value and latched onto it in hopes it would kill my feelings.

“I was convinced you were never going to change your mind and this was over. I’m as stubborn as you are,” she says, pressing a kiss above my heart. “I don’t hold any of my emotional discomfort against you. I could have told you how I felt at any point but I chose not to. That’s on me. But, I do regret not saying something.”

“Why didn’t you?” I ask.

She stares at the ceiling.

“I wanted to be chosen. I didn’t want to beg or pressure you into a relationship you didn’t want. I was scared. Afraid of rejection. There were a lot of reasons.”

“I didn’t think I was hiding my feelings well,” I admit. There were so many moments I thought she would figure it out.

When she took care of Declan.

On my birthday when she nearly brought me to tears with her surprise.

At the gala when she confronted Savannah.

“You never once said ‘artichoke’. Never initiated our…sexual encounters. It was always me who said it, so I thought…”

She trails off, but my mind is stuck on her words. I never said artichoke? That doesn’t seem right. I sift through every time we hooked up and…holy shit, she’s right.

I thought about it constantly, but I never did work up the courage to say it myself. Didn’t know how to ask for sex when I couldn’t separate my feelings from it and couldn’t banish the memories of Savannah and her sharp words. I can imagine the vulnerability she must have felt saying it every time, allowing me the opportunity to reject her and my heart sinks.

“I never realized. The word echoed around my head constantly, if that helps.” She huffs, rolling her eyes, but the gesture is playful. “Especially in your…” I flounder for the name of that dress thing she wears.

“My muumuu?” she offers.

“That thing has no business being as hot as it is. You should look like a grandma, but it’s sexy as hell.”

I’ve had dreams of that muumuu. Dirty, filthy dreams where Nathalie is the star.

She barks out a laugh and it scares Gordie who hisses at me, attacks my foot, and then bolts away. I cry out in pain and that only increases her laughter.

“He’s such an asshole,” she coughs out, but her gaze settles on me, knowing and tender. “Let’s maybe communicate a bit better. I’ll start. You need to buy me more body scrub because you used it all, then left the container and thought I wouldn’t notice. Also, I love you and I’m proud that I get to say that.”

She beams. I choke.

How did she…I thought for sure she wouldn’t notice that it was empty. I didn’t mean to use it all. I opened it to smell it and…well, it ended up washed away on the floor because it was slippery and I dropped it.

“I’ll order more,” I mumble, and she plants a kiss on my lips. “I’m not great at asking for what I want.” The admission tastes sour on my tongue. “Or thinking I deserve it. But I’m working on that with Sharon.”

“Declan’s therapist?”

“Mhm. She’s good at her job.”

“I’m proud of you,” she says and her pride floods through me. “For working on yourself. If you want, we can go together.”

“You would do that?”

“Sure. I love you and I want to support you. I want this relationship to work , Deon, which means I’m willing to put in the work. If that means seeing a couples therapist to help us communicate and grow together, then I want to do it.” She lifts her wrist to display all the friendship bracelets. “These are as binding as a pinky promise.”

I raise my hand and intertwine our pinky fingers. “Forever?”

“Pinky promise.”

Three loud, aggressive, and unwelcome bangs echo through the house and I crack open an eye to find sunlight filtering through the curtains, Nathalie cradled in my arms.

Her arm whacks around the bed, trying to turn off what she assumes is an alarm when the banging happens again, followed by a distinct, “Put some clothes on and open up the door. My tits are freezing off out here!”

“Is that Maren?” Nathalie asks groggily, rolling over to face me.

“There’s a chance that every one of our friends is standing on the porch.” Her eyes dart in that direction, nose scrunched. “I can tell them to go away.”

My palm trails down her spine and she shivers, burrowing deeper into my side.

“I have breakfast!” Maren yells. “Let me in!”

“They helped you plan all of this.” Nathalie sighs as she rises from bed and pads across the room to retrieve her clothes. Her breasts sway beneath her muumuu and my cock stirs. She offers a shy smile when she catches my blatant staring and I contemplate telling Maren to fuck off when Declan chimes in.

“I still have a key!” The declaration is followed by the distinct rustling of metal and I leap out of bed to slide on a pair of pants.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” I mutter, ripping open the front door. All of my friends tumble into the house. “Give me my key back,” I say, palm outstretched.

Declan winks.

“Already did. I shook Maren’s keys and hoped it would put a flame under your ass. It worked.”

He saunters deeper into the house and releases a shriek when Nathalie rounds the corner, wearing my clothes.

I like how claiming it is with my name on her back.

“So…” Maren drawls, “Are you two…”

“Yes,” Nathalie says with a blush, “We’re together.”

“Hallelujah!” Sawyer cheers, “This is a cause for mimosas!”

She lifts two bottles of champagne out of her bag and Henry lifts orange juice.

“Happy for you, man,” Henry says, gripping my shoulder, “Welcome to the Zing Club.”

“And what a wonderful club it is,” Jack adds, glancing at Maren as she drops trays of food onto my kitchen counter. “It all went well?”

“I barely stumbled over my words,” I admit proudly. They had to listen to several versions of my speech and each time, I could barely choke out the words. “I wouldn’t have been able to pull it off without you guys. Thank you.”

“What are friends for?” Henry shrugs with a smile, “But, if you’ll excuse me, I want to get a good bagel before they’re all gone.”

He slips away, leaving Jack and I standing in the doorway.

“I’ve never seen you happier,” he comments. My eyes dart to Nathalie, who’s sipping her mimosa, laughing with Sawyer and Maren. “It looks good on you.”

“She makes me happier than I knew was possible.”

I stand beside Nathalie and she leans against me, picking at fruit and bacon. She slides a plate in front of me, full of eggs, hash browns, and bacon and I kiss the crown of her head in thanks.

Nathalie and I are bombarded with questions about how the grand gesture went and Nathalie gracefully answers them all while I eat. I simply watch the interaction, realizing how blessed I am that I have the friends I do and that I get to stand beside the woman I love.

There’s a parade around the house so Maren and Sawyer can see what the guys and I put together and Nathalie shows off her friendship bracelet and scrapbook like they’re shining jewels.

Declan slides beside me.

“How does it feel to zing with someone?” he asks quietly.

There’s uncertainty in his voice.

“It’s like taking a fresh breath of air after being underwater.” He hums and when I look at him, his gaze is unfocused. “It’s not loud like you would expect. It’s safety and stability, knowing the person beside you has your back. It’s an inexplicable sense of comfort with someone else.”

“That’s nice,” he says, though it sounds like he means the exact opposite.

I want to say something, to reassure him that it will happen for him, when Nathalie and the girls return to the counter, passing out mimosas to everyone.

Nathalie hands one to me and places a soft kiss on my lips.

“I want to raise a toast,” she says, eyes fixed on me, “to fake dating proposals and broken pipes. To wonderful friends and grand gestures. But most of all, here’s to a lifetime with someone you love.”

A cacophony of cheers echoes through my home, followed by the clinking of glasses, but my eyes never leave Nathalie’s as I lift the mimosa to my lips, savoring the tart champagne.

Backed into a corner, I made a wild declaration that I had a girlfriend. It turned out to be the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Nathalie tumbled into my life, bringing light and chaos, and hope. The person I was before our deal is long gone, replaced by someone who’s still growing and healing, but with her love and kindness she brought me back to life and despite my past, I fumbled into love.