“Dove.” I’m rambling, but my tongue cuts short when those sharp blue eyes meet mine. He tells me firmly: “You’re perfect. Believe me when I say I wouldn’t change a thing about you.”
My throat gets tight. “Nothing?”
“Nothing. I love this version of you. And I’ll love every version that comes after. I love you—every messy piece of you.”
I love you. He said it! He said the words!
My heart might burst right out of my chest.
He drops his forehead against mine. I close my eyes. We breathe together, and I try to burn this exact moment into my memory.
Fuck. My cunt—and my heart—feel so full.
“Are you still going to the club tonight?” he asks.
“I was going to. But…”
“We should go. Together.”
“You don’t have to. It’s…sort of a source of trauma. For both of us.”
“Dove.Do you want to go?”
I bite my lip. Reminder to self: Dorian is and always will be a safe space to say the things I want out loud. So I answer honestly: “Yes.”
Relief in his eyes. He nods. He presses a small, sweet kiss to my lips. The way you kiss someone when you’ve been married twenty years, and each kiss is muscle memory.
He says, “Then let’s get dressed and go.”
21
POE IS DEAD
Dorian.Now.
Eventually, Dove and I leave the bookstore. I take her to my apartment upstairs. The idea is to kill time before the club opens, but I would be remiss not to mention?—
We fuck again in the shower.
And on my couch.
And (after a brief pause to wolf down some pizza) on the kitchen table.
It’s official. My dick is made of fucking steel around Dove, and I can’t keep the damn thing down when I’m in proximity of her.
Seven rolls around and it takes all my self-control just to get out the door. I chug a sports drink as Dove pulls her purse over her shoulders.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“Replenishing.” I hold it out for her. She shakes her head. “That wasn’t a request.”
She rolls her eyes, but she’s grinning whenshe puts the bottle to her lips and takes a few lengthy swallows. I smack her on the ass. She chirps.
I could get used to this. All of it. Playing with Dove. Fucking Dove. The seamless way we switch. I feel like a man who has been sitting in a dark room for years and, suddenly, Dove flicked on a light.
She satisfies cravings I didn’t know existed before.
We get downstairs and I whistle for a cab. Dove gets in first and I slide in beside her. As we settle in, I take her hand and lace my fingers through hers.
