I do catch myself on that last thought though. Because as much as I have him in the moment, as much as his arms are around me, keeping me calm and warm as the cool night air wafts in through the open window, and as much as I had him earlier tonight, I don’t really know what the future will bring. I don’t even know what we are. He said he wouldn’t date or fuck anyone else and I believe that, just as I wouldn’t even think of it myself.

But what does that mean? Are we in a relationship? Does he do relationships, like boyfriend and girlfriend, or am I just some sort of a monogamous fuckbuddy? I want to say that I don’t mind just being a fling, especially if I’m the only one he has. But the truth, the damn scary truth, is that I’m falling for him. It’s not love, I know it’s not. It’s not hitting me over the head, it’s not stealing my heart.

But he is stealing my thoughts. He’s training my body to want him and only him and all the time. He’s making my heart beat faster when he’s around, he’s making me smile like an idiot when I even hear his name. He’s making me look forward to each and every day because I know he’ll be in it and when I imagine a day without seeing his handsome face, there’s this strange sensation in my chest, like my heart is bereft.

My heart can’t be involved though, it’s too risky, it’s too soon. I don’t want love to swoop on into my life and turn it upside down, not now when everything is starting to go right. In my experience, love is a destructive force, tearing hearts to shreds and forcing people to pick up the pieces. Even the best love stories are violent tales.

I have to wonder if Bram has ever been in love. If he’s actually gone that distance and bid farewell to his heart. If he’s been serious enough about someone else to share a part of his life with them to move in, to have something that has a label attached. I wonder if he’s ever been down this road and if it’s something he’s even open to.

“Have you ever been in love?” I ask, my voice sounding far away, as if in a dream. I can’t believe I’m actually asking those words out loud, but there you have it. If my brain doesn’t turn off, stuff will eventually come out my mouth.

I can feel him flinch beside me so that cancels out any hope that he was already asleep. Sometimes I have no idea how long I get lost in my thoughts. Is it moments? Minutes? I tilt my head to see his sharp gaze in the hazy darkness. “Don’t worry,” I go on. “I’m not in love with you,” I assure him.

“Oh,” he says, clearing his throat. “That’s too bad.” He swallows and then rolls on his back so he’s staring up at the ceiling. “Yes. I was in love. Only once. I had it pretty bad too but…I was young. Shit happened. I panicked and I fucked up. I fucked up big time. I was just such a bloody idiot. It’s a real fucking shame, you know? Because I think love is the sort of thing you should reflect on and feel good about. That’s what love is, isn’t it? A good thing? But I can’t look back on her, on what happened, and feel anything but shame.” His chest rises and falls with a deep breath. “What I wouldn’t give sometimes for that chance again to just fix things…make them right. But we rarely get a second chance, do we?”

I know it shouldn’t bother me, but the way he’s talking about this woman is making my heart cower, like an early frost has stormed on in. “What’s her name?” I ask.

He hesitates for a moment then says, “Taylor.”

So, Taylor did a real number on him. I hoped that whatever we were – whatever we could be – would be enough to erase her from his mind.

“That’s a nice name,” I tell him, feeling stupid as I say it.

“She was a nice girl,” he says. “But that’s all in the past and in the past is where it will stay. What about you? Your baby daddy?”

I chew on my lip for a moment. “Was I in love with Phil? You know what? I don’t know. I guess so. Maybe it was just infatuation? Stubbornness? Like I’d become so determine to love him I thought I did. Is that possible? Anyway, whatever we had, it still ruined me in the end so maybe it was love or maybe it was just loss. I don’t know.”

“Maybe it was love or maybe it was just loss,” he repeats slowly. “I like that. That makes sense to me. Because sometimes you don’t know, you just know what you had is gone and you know how that makes you feel.”

“Yeah,” I say through a heavy breath, remembering how damn low I felt after Phil left. How scared. Now, I don’t know if my heart itself was breaking because love was lost or if it was just what Phil was to me that was gone. “I guess you know if you know.”

“That’s true,” he says. His arms tighten around me. “Now, why are you getting all philosophical in the dark, huh? Do you need a spanking to set you right?”

I giggle and push his face away from my neck as he attempts to kiss me. “No, I’m good.”

“You’re the opposite of good and you’re going to be punished.”

He suddenly flips me over and climbs on top of me, his hand smacking the side of my hip, his mouth all over my neck and shoulders. I can’t help but laugh as he kisses my worries away.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Nicola

Three weeks pass by in a flash. Three glorious, beautiful weeks. There are some more shifts at work, I’ve bought a sewing machine and some fabric with the extra cash, the weather is starting to get warmer and Ava has become obsessed with bugs (thank you A Bug’s Life). But for the most part, these three weeks have been one naked, hazy, sweat-slicked sex fest.

Bram is insatiable and the more he screws me every which way, the more insatiable I’ve become in return. Every single moment that we’re alone, he’s inside me – cock, tongue, fingers – and I’m starting to feel like the sexual goddess he keeps saying I am. It makes me wonder how I’ve even survived for so long without this in it. I understand now why sex is so goddamn important to people – it gives us life, it makes us feel more alive.

And it brings us connection. It’s not just a fuck or a shag. It’s not just orgasms and exploring each other’s bodies. We’re exploring each other’s souls as well. I know that’s a cheesy way to think about things, but it’s true. The more I sleep with Bram, the more we talk, the more we don’t even need to talk. We just feel each other on this other level, this current of intimacy that’s scary as hell but addicting all the same.

Naturally, I don’t know if he feels the same way that I do. That I’m falling. Bit by bit. That I feel like I understand him on levels I didn’t think possible. But I at least know that sometimes I catch him looking at me and it’s like he thinks I’m magic.

I keep thinking back to what my mother said about that, to never let it go once you’ve found it. God forbid anything from trying to derail what we are and where we might be headed, but I have no intentions of ever letting go.

The only hiccup in the last few weeks is that while I’ve been busier with more shifts, Bram has been busier with more meetings with the city, organizations, and investors. It’s great that his idea is going full-steam ahead, but it does mean we don’t see each other as much as we used to. It’s usually just nights and that’s probably why we cling to each other in the sex-soaked fog like we do.

Tonight though, it’s Monday and I don’t have to work. Bram’s free this evening, so he’s bringing over some Thai takeout for us. Even though takeout food is the worst thing for Ava, he goes out of his way to make sure she has steamed rice and vegetables with no msg and nothing but a little soy sauce, just so she won’t feel left out.

The three of us are sitting around my kitchen table and I’m currently fanning my mouth with my hand because I think I got a load of chilies in my bite of Pad Thai. Bram is watching me with amusement, perhaps even more amused than normal.