35 - Say It

35

Say It

S team fills the bathroom; the smell of almond and honey permeates the room from the bubble bath. Outside, the sun has set, darkness settling in its place with stars above. My eyes are still swollen from all the tears, but they've stopped now. For a minute there, it felt like a well that wouldn't empty.

Isaiah eventually dragged us off the couch when the sky had started to darken. He set me on the counter, gently picking twigs out of my hair as he started dinner. Apparently, he came prepared—both for my emotional despair with a box of tissues and copious amounts of candy, and for practical matters, like ice packs and ingredients for dinner. I watched as he cooked, and he cut up apples and cheese for me to snack on. He even had a warm washcloth for my eyes. They insisted on leaking out a few tears every few minutes until they seemed to dry up. Isaiah said nothing to indicate he was annoyed by them, just wiped them away whenever he saw them on my skin.

And then, he ran me a bath.

Bubbles float up around me, hot water splashing over my skin.

"Would you please get in the tub?"

"I don't want to crowd you," Isaiah says, reaching out to tug a curl that's fallen from my bun.

"You're not. I…please?" I soften my eyes and blink my eyelashes rapidly. His lips quirk, tugged by an invisible string, but I see his resolve fall away. Though I'm not sure why he was fighting in the first place.

Isaiah sets the bag of candy down, to which I grab a rainbow-colored candy and lean on the edge of the tub. I didn't realize love was finding joy in the moments where that feels impossible. Smiling when it feels like nothing else is going right. Butterflies in your stomach when there was previously only dread.

"You checking me out, Aurora?"

"Yes," I state. "I expect a good show."

A throaty chuckle escapes him, traveling over my skin. Instead of saying anything else, he drags his t-shirt up slowly, unveiling the taut planes of his stomach and the ink on his skin inch by inch. I lick a stray sugar grain from my lips, watching as my heart beats deep and slow in my chest. Isaiah continues, stepping out of his sweats, and I trail my eyes over the fully-inked leg. It's not fair really how hot men look with a little ink and short shorts on. Of course, those short shorts are boxer briefs, but that's beside the point. He strips them off too, my breath hitching at the sight, to which Isaiah smirks because, apparently, he's attuned to every little sound that comes out of my mouth.

Isaiah's eyes soften when they land on my face. "I hope I make you blush for the rest of our lives."

At that, the heat already in my cheeks spreads further. The water and the bubbles slosh as he slides into the tub. It's not huge but big enough for us both to be comfortable. I crowd him instantly, his legs cradling me as I move as close as I can get.

Cupping his cheeks, suds run over my hands. Unabashedly, I stare at him. Eyes roaming over the face I wake up to and fall asleep with. The eyes that have seen me break down in tears or shout in anger, that have seen me disheveled in the mornings and sweaty on the field. Lips that I get to kiss every day, that kiss me every day, lips that whisper jokes in my ear while we watch movies or TV, or instructions when he tries to teach me how to cook.

"What are you looking for?" Isaiah asks, his voice deep.

"A flaw."

"I'm serious."

I raise a brow. "Me, too." I run my thumb over the bridge of his nose and the curve of his lips. "You are perfect."

A strong, firm hand lands on my hip. "That's not true, Ro."

"Maybe not. But you are to me. For me." I press a kiss to his lips. It's tender and simple, and I feel it all the way to my toes.

He looks cheeky when I pull back. Between us, he cups bubbles in his hands and blows, making them land over my cheeks and skin. Giggling, I splash his chest. "Come here," he says and tugs me around, pulling my back into his chest.

Against the warm water, Isaiah is the warmth that I need. That brings me the comfort that I crave. I lean my head back on his shoulder. His lips are as light as butterfly wings against my skin.

They brush right below my ear. "I talked to your coach."

I sigh. "So, you know?"

"About the surgery? Yes. I mean, I figured it was something with the knee when you didn't come home the first night. But…"

"But you knew something else had happened to make me stay away." Instead of responding, he kisses my neck. His arms wrap around me, caging me in. "What did she tell you?"

"That she saw your dad standing there and you were gone. Do you want to talk about it?"

Tipping my head back, I find his eyes. "Not really. Not tonight."

"I should tell you, I've spoken to your dad. Twice."

A bemused smile forms on my lips. "You have? About what?"

"You." Isaiah tugs me closer, not an inch of space between us. Before he continues, I grab a few candies, holding two up for him. Isaiah grabs them, nipping my fingers in the process, sending a chill down my spine. "I couldn't take it anymore. The first time was after the fight at Sophia's. I told him to grow up."

My eyes widen in surprise as I suck the sugar off the candy.

"And this time, I told him if anyone should leave the team, it should be him. And that he would regret doing this to you for the rest of his life. You know, the basics." He smiles against my skin. "You deserve to have someone stand up for you, to be on your side. Of course, your mom and Sophia are. Kian, too. But it's different. I don't really give a shit, Ro, whether he likes me or approves of me from here on out. I didn't come back for anything else but you. I'm on your side, no matter what. And you shouldn't have to do it on your own."

In my chest, my heart feels safe enough to slow, to release the tension it's been holding. The low hum of anxiety that's been thrumming over my skin settles dissipates.

Isaiah tips my chin up with a gentle finger. His lips are close, almost brushing mine. "You don't have to do it alone. Anything alone. You don't have to carry the weight and the pressure alone. You don't have to figure it out alone. You aren't alone. I'm here. I'm right here."

All the love crowds in, pushing everything else out of the way.

"I shouldn't have run away."

Isaiah gives a slow shake. "You can run if you want, Aurora. I'll be right behind you."

Smiling, I give a slow shake of my head, disbelief at being this lucky. I'm not sure I'll ever get used to it—him being here. But I guess we have the rest of our lives for me to come to terms with that.

Leaning up, I press our lips together again. He lets out a tiny sigh of contentment, his hand burying itself in my curls. As it always does. Like I hope he does for the rest of our lives. I brush my nose against his, brush my lips over his cheek and his jawbone. And I kiss him again, soft and sweet and slow.

I pull back so I can see him. Isaiah is beautiful and kind and my best friend and the person I'm going to love every day for forever.

Against his lips, I whisper, "I love you, Isaiah."

I swear he goes as still as a statue. A small laugh bubbles out of my lips before I kiss him again. And still, he doesn't move. Reaching up, I tap his forehead. "Hello? Professor Bryant? You in there?"

"Say that again."

My heart flutters. "Professor Bryant?" His eyes clear and narrow on mine. "I love you."

Under my palms, his body relaxes. On instinct, the fingers of my left hand trace the ink on his skin, taking bubbles with it. It took me too long, I know that. Too long to tell him, but the words were not going to come if I forced them. But now, they've broken the door off the hinges.

"There was a time I was sure I'd never really be all the way happy. You know I had the career, the girls, Soph, Kian, but the reality was, I didn't have you. And I'm not saying this to make you feel bad," I ramble, his eyes never leaving mine. "But I want you to understand how deep this goes. Because I think that if you hadn't come back, there was always going to be a break in the cracks."

Isaiah's features soften as they look at me. He brushes his thumb across my jawline. "I understand. Do you still feel like that?"

Holding him tight, I shake my head. "No, Isaiah. And maybe unhappy was the wrong word; it was more so that I felt lost. Homesick. And I was resigned to the idea that a part of me was always going to feel lost. Because I longed for a place I couldn't go anymore, a place I forgot how to find. That isn't true anymore because you're here. With me." I meet his eyes. "And I could find you if I was blindfolded in the dark."

There's so much love in his eyes that I don't know what to do with it all. Part of it makes me feel unworthy. That I won't be as good at this as he is. But I get to learn. And I get to learn with him.

"You are my home. You are the missing puzzle piece of myself. If we never met, I wouldn't have known I was missing something, but there was always going to be a part of me that existed only to love you. You are part of who I am, Isaiah. You are the steady ground when it feels like the world is falling apart underneath me. Getting to be in your life, getting to love you, is my favorite thing I'll ever do in this life. And I love you so much that I don't know what to do with it all. I don't know where to put it all, and I didn't know that was possible."

Isaiah nuzzles into my neck, kissing the soft skin until he finds my lips. "You give it to me, Aurora. That's what you do with it."

My breath catches. I smile against his lips. "You sure?"

"I'm sure. You are just as much a part of me as I am of you."

Spinning in the water isn't easy, but I do it. My fingers curl around the back of his neck. "I'm so in love with you, Isaiah."

He hums against my lips and stands effortlessly with me in his arms. I squeal as the water sloshes off of us and leaves droplets on the floor. As he walks, Isaiah grabs two towels on the way to the bedroom.

"I wasn't done." I pout, fighting a smile as he tenderly dries me off. He stops every few seconds to give me a searing kiss.

"Done what?" he asks. Demanding, his hands roaming up my leg, pinching the skin of my inner thigh. Heat unfurls over my skin, sparks lighting up like fireflies.

"Telling you how much I love you."

Isaiah's lips quirk. "You can tell me." He presses a kiss on my lips and to the tip of my nose. "While I touch you and while I make you forget the rest of the world, you can tell me." His hand gently squeezes under my butt before moving me onto the bed "You can tell me over and over and over again, Aurora." Isaiah climbs over me, his tattooed thigh pushing my legs apart, his body weight settling over mine.

If euphoria was something tangible, it would be this. The intoxicating, tender touch of his hands on my skin as warm as a livewire, or the heavy weight of his body on my own, or his eyes looking at me like I am the only thing in the world that matters.

Against my chest, I feel his heartbeat racing along with my own. His hand travels over my ribcage, stealing my breath with every inch. "I look at you and I don't know how I got so lucky." Isaiah's voice trembles just so—no one else in the world would ever notice it. But I do.

He traces a pathway with his lips, nipping the skin when I inhale, flicking his tongue out when the tiniest of moans escape my lips. Everywhere he goes, he tracks and memorizes me. My hands roam over the hot skin of his back, still slightly damp, and hold him tight to me. Moments later, his hand finds my thighs, finds the center of all the heat roaring through my body, and drags his lips away from me.

I groan. "Isaiah," I breathe out, squirming. Pressure builds in my stomach. My brain is unfocused and hazy. The only thing that matters to it is him.

His eyes are pouring into mine, brown eyes alight with stars. "Say it."

"I love you."

A cheeky smile takes over his face. His lips kiss a path over my collarbone, and his hand moves with a sureness that takes my breath away. Moving with tenderness that can't be faked. He loves me. In so many ways, he loves me. And loves all of me. The good, the bad, the ugly. Every freckle, every dimple. When I'm angry, he loves me. When I'm smiling and laughing, he loves me. Right now, he's choosing love through delicious and yet torturous methods. Featherlight touches over my skin that make me hungry for more. I kiss him hard, and he tastes like sour candy and the love of my life.

"It's not enough, Bryant. More." I nip his ear, and he spins us, pulling my legs to straddle him.

"Does that hurt?"

I lean over him, my curls brushing his naked skin, and rub our noses together. "No. And right now, I wouldn't tell you if it did." Rolling my hips, I pull a groan out of him, his fingers tightening into my skin.

He pinches my butt, tingles traveling up my spine torturously. Adjusting us, he presses in and finds the magic spot that makes my head spin and stars dance behind my eyes. I press down, but he stops me, a smirk on his face. "Say it."

I smile, kissing him, and I whisper over and over again that I love him. Every thrust of his hips, every burst of pleasure that follows. It spurs him on, makes him ravenous, and I relish in it, burying my face in his neck and breathing in only him. Heat licks at my skin in small flickers and in large, enveloping flames. Pressure builds and builds slowly, then all at once. It's like flowers blooming and stars shooting over the sky, leaving tiny sparklers behind.

"Aurora Jade, I love you beyond measure," he whispers against my lips.

With a firm hand wrapped around my neck, he holds me to him, swallowing my small, breathless moans, and drags me up the peak. Up and up and up. I fly past cloud nine and land in the stars. And this time, Isaiah whispers it over and over and over again in my ear until I fall, tumbling down the other side of it. My heart beats erratically in my chest with no sign of stopping—that very same heart belongs to him.

"That's it, sweetheart. I'm right here." Isaiah's own heart increases under my palm, the only connection to reality I have.

His other hand digs into my skin as his movements become frantic, chasing the very same euphoria he's given me. For a second, he never stops, instantly building me back up with steady, beautiful, addicting movements. The nip of his teeth, the press of his hands. It's all too fucking much, but no feeling in the world could ever compare.

"Aurora," Isaiah groans, my name escaping his lips like a tortured prayer, and I roll my hips until he's teetering on the same cliff that he's dragged me back up. Both of us, together, disgustingly in love, tumble over it for what feels like forever.

Stars burst, and in the darkness of the room, new constellations form. My skin burns with the aftermath against him. Both his arms are wrapped tightly around my body as if I'm going anywhere. As if I would ever dream of going anywhere without him. When my lungs don't feel like they're fighting for life, I kiss underneath his chin and over his jaw until he blinks his eyes open.

They're warm and as beautiful as a labyrinth that only I know the way through. "My heart belongs to you, Isaiah." I tug his bottom lip. "To you and only you."

We share another long, searing kiss—a swipe of his tongue, a slow dance of our lips that makes me feel like I'm in a dream. Of all the things I've dreamed of, of all the things that I've accomplished, Isaiah is my favorite dream of all.