He walked into the room and knelt on the floor by the bed like he was about to pray. “No, I couldn’t sleep.”
“That’s usually me.” I stretched, eliciting a moan from him.
He cleared his throat of the moan before he spoke. “Maybe you should plan more weddings and you’ll get more sleep.”
“Maybe.”
“Or maybe you just need to hear the coward you love admit what he’s feeling rather than continue to pretend you should just know,” he whispered, his words tight and unsure. “Maybe if you knew that you mean as much to him as he does to you, you’d sleep like a baby every night. Maybe even wrapped up in his arms.”
“Maybe,” I said again.
He smiled and brushed a piece of hair off my cheek with his gaze locked on mine. “I think it’s time I admit I’ve loved you since the day we met,” he whispered, his words soft but sure. “I’ve loved you every day for the last twenty years. Every woman I was with was nothing more than an attempt to forget you, replace you, or drive you from my mind. Sometimes it was all three, but in the end, it always came back to you, Honey. I’ve loved you for twenty years, and I’ve spent most of them pretending it wasn’t true. I became too afraid to say the words when I was finally given the opportunity. When you said it was physically painful to swallow down those three words day after day, I realized I carried the same pain. I’ve had heartburn for ten years and no one could ever tell me why, but now I know. It wasn’t the kind of heartburn that medication could fix. It was a heart issue that only I could fix, but first I had to be honest with you. I love you, Honey. I love you when I’m Mathias Jørgensen, when I’m Mathias, and when I’m Mattie.” He gasped, his chest heaving as his forehead fell to the bed.
“Mattie, are you okay?” Tears blinded me, and my voice was full and choked when I forced words around the lump in my throat. My heart was soaring to hear him say that he loved me, but at the same time I was terrified something was wrong.
The man I loved lifted his head, and I saw tears on his face, but there was also a smile. “I’m better than okay,” he promised. “It’s like a twenty-pound weight left my chest with those words. I can take a deep breath and know I can just bemenow. And being me means not being afraid to love you.”
I slipped my hand up his face and stroked his temple. “I’m dreaming, right? I’m going to wake up in the morning, and my pillow will be soaked from the tears I cried wishing this was true. It’s always a cross between pure torture and pure ecstasy.”
He sat on the bed and leaned down until our noses almost touched. “I’m so sorry, honeybee. I’ve thrown away so many years that we could have been together. When I watched Charity and Gulliver give themselves to each other this afternoon, after only a year, I understood deep in my soul what a coward I was for not standing up for myself. For not standing up for us. This isn’t a dream. You are awake. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
He brought his lips to mine and kissed me like a man who meant the words he spoke. I wrapped my arms around his neck and let his tongue in when it knocked, giving myself over to his desires, knowing they’d take me somewhere spectacular. He nipped at my bottom lip, sucking gently, before he dived back in for another tongue tangle. His moans bounced around the room like thunder, and I shuddered in his arms. “If only I could do the last ten years all over again,” he gasped when we came up for air. “What an idiot I was.”
I smiled and brushed a hand through his hair, the tresses still damp from his shower. “We can’t go back, but we can go forward. The question is, do you want to go forward with me?”
“I’ve always wanted to go forward with you. The difference is, I’m no longer letting anyone else make that decision for us. It’s you and me moving forward, together.”
“Together,” I whispered, my throat dry and choked as I worked to hold back tears. They fell anyway, and I sucked up a shaky, sobbing breath.
“Honey, you’re crying again. You’re going to give me a complex,” he teased, lifting my chin with his finger.
I wiped away the tear on my cheek and smiled at him. “These are happy tears. Or maybe they’re relief tears.”
“They can be both,” he promised. “I know I’m feeling both of those things, along with so many other emotions. Right now, all I want to do is climb into this bed and hold you for the rest of the night. Maybe it will start to make up for all the nights I should have been holding you but wasn’t.”
I noticed then he wore nothing but boxers and a plain black T-shirt. Even in something so simple, he could be a model stepping off the pages ofGQ. I flipped the bedspread back and scooted over, giving him space in the bed to lie down. He slipped under the blankets, his long, muscular legs sliding in to cuddle next to mine before he pulled the blanket back over us. His fingers tenderly caressed my face, our heads sharing a pillow. “This is what I needed. You are what I needed. My heart is finally calm.”
“Mine too. Well, kind of calm, but also happy, scared, and excited.”
He chuckled and kissed my lips once. “You can’t be happy and scared, love.”
“I can be because it’s for two different reasons. You’re so much more worldly than I am, Mattie. There’s going to be a learning curve for me. I’ve always loved you, but there’s more to an adult relationship than pining away like a teenager.”
He raised himself on one elbow and propped his hand under his cheek. “If anyone has a handle on an adult relationship, it’s certainly not me. I’ve run around like a playboy for years, pretending that’s all I needed. It wasn’t, and I knew it. I just needed you.” He kissed me again, half lying across me as he trailed kisses over my lips, down my neck, and then up my jaw to my ear. He suckled my earlobe until I moaned softly into the room. “That sounded like a panty-dropping moan,” he teased and nipped the lobe again.
“I’m not wearing any,” I said between clenched teeth, my nipples hardening instantly at his returned moan.
“See, you’re already better at this than you think.”
He stared down at me, his swoop of hair falling into his eyes. “I might have all the moves down”—he rolled his eyes at himself—”but sex and making love are two different things. I understand that, but I’ve never experienced it. I’ve never made love to the woman who owns my soul before, just like you’ve never made love to the man who owns yours.”
I snorted with a hint of embarrassment and shame. “I’ve never even had sex before.” The words were barely audible, and my tone undercut the confidence I wanted to show.
His lips paused on my neck, and he lifted his head. “Wait. What? Never?”
“Ever,” I whispered. “We dealt with our feelings in different ways, I guess.” I averted my gaze to spare myself the embarrassment. “You sought solace in the arms of other women. I knew I would never find satisfaction with anyone but you. Neither was wrong. It just was what it was.”
He sat up and slid his hands through his hair. “I’m such an asshole.” He sighed, his fingers curling into his locks. “I’m sorry. I was so self-absorbed I never even noticed that you didn’t date or go out with other men. You’re a virgin.”
