Author: Cheryl McIntyre

“Yel-low?”

“You’re an idiot.”

“So, you guys engaged yet?”

“He isn’t home.”

“You should try the gym. He’s probably pretty stressed out and looking for an outlet.”

As soon as the words come out of his mouth, I know exactly where Chase is. “I’ll call you back.”

I hurry out of the car and go next door, to the school pool. Chase’s sanctuary.

This should have been the first place I looked. How many days did I spend here, watching him swim, pretending I wasn’t watching?

Stopping just inside the empty natatorium, I almost start crying. I was positive he’d be here. I’m about to turn back for the door when he breaks out of the water, startling me. He’s swimming away from me, his back moving in and out of the water with each stroke. I watch him, spellbound for a moment, my eyes soaking him up like I haven’t seen him in months.

He flips just before the wall, swimming under the water once again. He moves so gracefully, so smoothly. I could watch him all day, but I’m here for a reason.

I step onto the low dive, walking slowly to the end, and then I sit. And wait.

He resurfaces, his arms arching over his head, back and forth, gliding him forward. His hand comes down on the ledge, and he tosses his head back, flicking his hair out of his face. He’s panting heavily, his breaths echoing off the walls. My stomach clenches.

It’s now or never.

I clear my throat softly and his head snaps in my direction, his lips parting in surprise. And then he’s pushing off the wall, swimming toward me.

I lean forward to see him better as he treads water below me. I could reach out and touch him, but I don’t dare. I couldn’t take it if he pulled away.

“Hi,” he says, his voice husky, unsure.

“Hi.”

“How—are you okay?”

I nod. I think so. Just seeing him makes me feel so much better. His hand comes up, clutching the corner of the diving board, and pulling his upper half completely out of the water. I have to lean farther to see him, my eyes trailing the rivulets running down his chest.

I wish I could trace them.

“How are you?”

“Better now,” he says, his voice tense. I’m not sure if it’s from the strain of holding himself up, or if it’s from me.

But he’s better now. Now that I’m here?

“I’ve missed you,” I whisper.

He shakes his head and my heart picks up, pounding in double time. Please don’t send me away. Please tell me you missed me too.

“Annie,” he rasps. “God, I’ve missed you so much.” He releases his hold on the diving board, causing it to bounce with the loss of his weight. He swims quickly to the side, pulling himself out of the pool. I scurry back, climbing down. We look at each other, my chest rising and falling quickly. He’s dripping, water streaming from his trunks onto the floor.

We move at the same time, rounding our corners of the pool, hurrying toward one another. I stop in front of him, still afraid to touch him. He hesitates for just a moment, before his fingertips sweep up slowly to trace the bruises on my cheeks. His fingers are damp and it causes me to shiver.

I realize belatedly that I didn’t cover them. The bruises. It didn’t even occur to me. I’m wearing them for everyone to see.

“You’re letting me touch you. You didn’t flinch.”

I feel my brows pull together in confusion. Of course I’m letting him touch me. It’s all I’ve longed for. I press my cheek into his hand, trying to show him.

“I haven’t flinched away from you in a long time.”

His eyes are haunted as he watches me warily. “After what I did—the way I acted… I could have killed him.”

“But you didn’t.”

“I would have,” he rasps. “If you hadn’t stopped me. I should have just taken you out of there. I was so…pissed. I fucked up everything. I should have taken care of you. I should have gotten you out of there. I should have…”

“Chase,” I whisper. “Stop. I’m not afraid of you. We have all made mistakes, but what it comes down to is this.” I clutch his hand. “You saved me. I’m here because of what you did.”

He drops his eyes, unsure whether to believe me and I realize none of this matters. We could argue this matter all night because it’s a matter of perception.

“I love you,” I breathe.

A beat goes by, he’s rigid. Frozen in place.

I start to panic. My breathing accelerates with each passing second. Say something.

Chase makes a sound in his throat, something guttural and needy. And then he steps forward, his body merging into mine. My clothes soak through, sticking to me, but I don’t care in the least. His eyes meet mine as he lowers his head, finally claiming my mouth.

I clutch him, my fingers tangling into his damp hair, holding him against me as if he’s my life force. I kiss him deeply, pouring everything I’m feeling into it.

He pulls back, planting a series of soft kisses down my cheek and onto my throat. Kissing my bruises, I realize.

“I’ve loved you for so long,” he murmurs. “Long before you ever loved me, and I’ll love you long after.”

I close my eyes in relief. My heart pounds against my chest, against his chest. There’s no happier place than this.

“There is no after,” I say adamantly. “Not for us. There’s only forever.”

Epilogue

Lovesong

Chase

Six Months Later

“That’s the last box,” Guy calls as he kicks the door shut behind him. “You are officially moved.”

I look at all the boxes lining my small living room wall and wonder where we’re going to fit everything.

“Screw it,” Annie says, answering my unspoken question. “I’ll unpack my clothes and the rest can stay in the boxes for now. Maybe we can get a bigger place later, but for now, this is perfect.”

“Perfect?”

“I’ve recently had an amazing realization—there is no such thing as perfect. There is only the perception of perfection. Ideals and notions, beliefs and concepts. It all depends on the person.

“I’ve found mine.”

I wrap my arms around her waist, drawing her against my chest. She tilts her head, resting it against my shoulder. I press my mouth to her neck, right over the pulse, and bite gently.

“You guys are disgusting,” Park states, one hand on his hip, the other clutching his bottle of water. “Are Lucy and I that bad?”

“Yes,” Guy and I say in unison.

“I appreciate you both helping to move Annie’s massive amount of shit,” I continue before Park can defend himself. “But now I’d like to do unspeakable things to her, so please get the hell out.”

“Dude,” Guy groans. “What have I told you about saying shit like that about my sister?”

Annie grins at him, no doubt because his use of “sister.” Little distinction, but meaningful.

“I’ll start spouting details if you don’t leave,” I threaten.

“Going,” Park says, holding up his hands in defense.

Guy opens the door and glances over his shoulder. “You knock my sister up, be prepared for an ass beating.”

I chuckle, rubbing my chin. “Do you want to discuss our birth control methods?”

“Not even a little.” He pries several envelopes from the mailbox and tosses them at me. “Be safe.”

The door closes and I scoop up the mail. As soon as I straighten, Annie attacks. She launches herself at me, causing us to fall onto the couch. The envelopes fall out of my hands, scattering across the seat. I push her back, laying her over them as I kiss her.

She grabs the hem of my shirt, lifting it quickly over my head. I nuzzle into her neck and she shivers.

“Cold?”

She shakes her head and I grin.

“Then you won’t mind if I remove this?” I tug on her shirt.

“Not at all.”

Without hesitation, I pull it off and drop it over the side of the couch. Annie’s eyes follow it to the floor, but she doesn’t comment even though I know she’s dying to tell me to pick it up. Undoubtedly, she’ll do that later.

The rest of our clothes follow quickly, falling to the floor, or being flung across the room. She pulls me back down and I sink into her.

There was a while when I wasn’t sure we’d get back here—to this relaxed and happy state. Loden moving across the country has helped tremendously, though. Faced with four eyewitness accounts and an attempted murder charge, he plea-bargained out, pleading guilty to a lesser assault charge. His lawyer was able to make a deal, exchanging his prison sentence with five years probation, enrollment in an anger management program, and treatment in a drug and alcohol recovery center in California. He’s not allowed within five hundred feet of Annie either.

It’s not what we had hoped for, but I’m just glad he’s gone. Maybe, just maybe, he can get the help he needs. I bought her a can of pepper spray to carry and we signed up to take self-defense classes together, just in case he doesn’t.

It’s always good to plan ahead. I think it’s time for me to be more responsible. What can I say? Annie’s rubbing off on me. No, literally, the girl is insatiable.

I roll us, sending us unceremoniously to the floor where we continue to make love. She grips me tightly, shuddering against my body and I kiss her forehead as I still. We stay this way until our breathing calms, wrapped around each other, arms and legs tangled.

“What do you want to do today?” I ask, my nose skimming her neck.

“Do you work today?”

I shake my head. My new job, which is full-time and holds a lot of responsibility, as well as fulfills a college requirement for my summer course, gave me the day off to get Annie settled. I actually love working at the small instrument store, helping people make music, but my favorite part is giving bass lessons. Who knew someone would pay me to do what I love and it’d open a door for my future?

“Well, then we’re doing it.”

“This is it?” I raise my head so I can read her expression. “No unpacking?”

She shrugs. “The boxes aren’t going anywhere.”

I grin, my fingers caressing her cheeks, and brushing her hair out of her face. “Can we eat?”

“We better,” she agrees. “Need to replenish our energy so we can do this again.”

“I love you living with me,” I say, my words serious, but my tone playful.

“I kind of like it, too.” She sits up and yanks the throw blanket off the back of the couch, dragging the forgotten mail with it.

She holds up an envelope so I can see it and I smile. “You’re first piece of mail,” I say. My eyes flick up to hers, gazing at me intently. “I like your name next to mine. It looks good.”

“It does,” she agrees.

She works her finger under a loose corner and rips the top, opening it quickly. And then grins as she flips it around.

It’s a Save the Date for Hope and Mason’s wedding.

“Hm,” I muse. “Theirs is before ours.” Shrugging, I tug her down to kiss her softly. “But ours is going to be better.”

“Of course it will,” she says, placating me, which makes me smile. “We’ll kick their wedding’s ass.”

“Damn straight. It’s going to be the best wedding ever.”

“What song will we dance to?”

“Get your iPod.” She complies, digging in her purse and coming back quickly. “Lovesong, by The Cure.”

“Oh, I love that song.”

“Think it’s a good one for our first dance?”