Lois looked up from typing just long enough to see Clark poke his head in the refrigerator, then went back to writing.
After she’d hung up with Perry at Luthor Tower, they’d made their way downstairs for the press conference, where her colleagues had eyed her suspiciously. She knew they were all envious of her scoop that morning and hoping to avoid another.
The press conference hadn’t yielded any information she didn’t already know, but she was still able to pull a few quotes for her article. So they had gone back to her apartment, where she sat cross-legged on the couch and started writing, while Clark sat beside her, his long legs propped up on the coffee table as he read his new book.
He had stood up a moment ago though, and walked off without interrupting her, and she had wondered vaguely where he was going.
She looked up again, and watched as he closed the door, shaking his head and grinning.
“What?” she asked.
“How do you not starve to death?” he teased. “There is nothing edible in this refrigerator.”
She grinned. “Open the drawer to your left.”
He turned back to face the fridge and pulled open the small drawer, laughing immediately. He pulled out a handful of takeout menus and turned back to her with them held aloft. “Seriously?”
She laughed, and he couldn’t pretend to be appalled any longer.
“Order whatever you want,” she said. “There are a ton of options.”
Clark turned and put the menus back in the drawer. “I have a better idea. I’m going out to get something for dinner. You keep working. I won’t be gone long.”
She nodded, curious to see what he would come up with. Maybe more of his magic Chinese food. Then she went back to typing.
He walked toward the door. “Come lock this behind me.”
“Mmhmm,” she said, still typing. She was on a roll. A few more minutes and she could stop writing and start editing. She would get up then.
“Lois,” he said.
“I’ll get it in just a minute,” she said, eyes still on her screen. “Go ahead.”
“Honey, I’m not leaving until you come lock this behind me. I know you’re not worried, but I'm not leaving you here alone with the door unlocked.”
She stopped typing and looked up at him, understanding his insistence finally. He hadn’t said anything about worrying for her safety all day, but it was clear he was still thinking about it.
She stood and crossed the room, and stretched up to kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you,” she said softly. “You’re right. I wasn’t thinking.”
She turned and reached for the coat rack, where her purse was hanging. She fished out her keys and handed them to him. “Take these so you can let yourself back in. I’m not going anywhere.”
He took them from her outstretched hand and kissed her quickly. “Okay, I won’t be gone long.”
She went back to writing, losing herself in her work. She was so focused that she startled at the sound of the key in the lock some indeterminate time later.
The door swung open, and he entered with two paper bags bearing the logo of the grocery store down the street. She looked at him skeptically as he replaced the keys in her purse and locked the door behind him.
“That does not look like dinner,” she said when he began walking toward the kitchen.
He laughed. “It will be. Trust me.”
He placed the bags on the counter and started unloading a variety of fresh vegetables, a long loaf of fresh bread, and a few cans of what appeared to be tomatoes.
She craned her neck, trying to identify everything he was pulling from the bag. He caught her out of the corner of his eye and laughed again. “You focus on your work. I have this under control.”
She went back to editing, smiling at the soundtrack of chopping and stirring that was coming from the kitchen.
“Hey, what’s another word for hidden?” she called.
“Concealed?”
“Perfect. Thanks.” She made the edit and kept reading.
A few minutes later, she broke the companionable silence again. “Police have no leads on the whereabouts of the delivery truck or the identity of the driver at this time? Or…at the time of this writing, police had no leads on the identity of the driver or the location of the delivery truck?”
“The second,” he said immediately. He started to say something else, then hesitated.
“What?” she asked. “Say it.”
“Are you sure they have no leads? Or just no leads they are sharing with you? What if it breaks overnight?”
“Ugh,” she said. “What would you write?”
He thought for just a second. “At the time of this writing, both the identity of the driver and the location of the delivery truck were still unknown?”
She nodded and made the change, trying not to think about how much she loved working with him and whether that meant she was losing her edge.
She finished her edits and glanced up at him, stirring a pot on the stove with a wooden spoon.
“Hey,” she said impulsively, waiting for him to look up before continuing. “You want to come read this before I submit it?”
“Really?” he asked, and he looked so surprised and eager that she wanted to kiss him.
“Yeah,” she said, nodding.
He gave the pot one more stir, then came to sit beside her. He scrolled through, reading carefully. He made a few tiny changes, fixing spelling errors and commas without consulting her. Then he tightened up a few paragraphs, checking to make sure she approved of each change before moving on.
“It’s fantastic,” he said when he finished. And she couldn’t help thinking it was better with his changes.
“Thank you,” she said. She squeezed his knee and then turned, unplugging the phone cord from the phone on the end table and plugging it into the computer.
While she waited for the computer to connect and then uploaded her article, he went back to the kitchen, stirring the sauce again and filling a second pot with water and setting it to boil.
Once her article was sent, she closed the laptop and wandered into the kitchen, standing behind him and draping her arms around his neck.
“All done?” he asked.
“Mmmhmm,” she said. “Now it’s just you and me. I could definitely get used to this. You cooking…. Me watching….”
“What? You’re never cooking?” he asked, tasting the sauce.
“It’s not really something I do,” she said. She reached forward and trailed her finger across the wooden spoon before popping it in her mouth. The sauce was delicious, like something from a restaurant as opposed to the frozen dinners she usually resorted to.
He added more of some freshly chopped herb she didn’t recognize and stirred again. “I thought it was just lack of time.”
“No, no,” she assured him, patting him on the shoulder before stepping back and standing beside him at the counter. “Lack of talent.”
He laughed and pulled the lid from the pot of boiling water. “Well, I guess there’s all kinds of things about you that I still have to find out.”
“And me about you,” she said, as he dumped the noodles into the water and stirred them.
He turned to face her, resting his hands on her hips and bending his head to kiss her cheek. She couldn’t hold back the smile any longer, and she slid her arms around his neck, pulling him closer for a kiss. His lips found hers, and she sighed happily, certain in that moment she would never get tired of that feeling, when his lips met hers.
They traded kisses for a minute, her hands threading into his hair and holding him captive. She had been longing to do this all day.
The phone rang, and she felt a flash of irritation surge through her. Then she ignored it, focusing all her attention on his mouth and the feel of his hand spread against the small of her back.
“The phone,” he mumbled, his lips never leaving hers.
“Let it ring,” she said. “Just ignore it.”
He brought his hand from her waist up to her cheek, holding her steady as he kissed her thoroughly, making her knees weak. The phone stopped ringing, and she smiled, moving her kisses from his mouth to his neck. Then it started again. Her head fell back, and she groaned in frustration.
She reached for the kitchen phone, smiling as he kissed her neck the way he knew she loved.
“Hello?” she said into the phone, closing her eyes and reveling in the kisses he was trailing up and down her neck. She could hear Jimmy talking on the other end of the line, but his words were a blur.
“Wait, what? What did you say, Jimmy? I'm a little busy right now.”
Clark laughed against her neck, his soft breath tickling her sensitive skin, and she wanted to throw the phone across the room.
“Chief said not page you unless it was an emergency,” Jimmy was saying.
“So you called me instead?” she asked, flabbergasted.
“Well…yeah. He didn’t say anything about calls. I just thought you’d want to know-”
“Is Luthor in custody?”
“No,” he said quickly. “Nothing like that.”
“Is the city on fire? Is the nation under attack? Has the President been taken hostage?”
Jimmy stammered a bit.
“Unless there is an emergency – a genuine emergency – do not page me or call me or send me smoke signals? Do you understand?”
“Yeah,” he said sheepishly. “Sorry.”
“Goodbye, Jimmy,” she said pointedly.
“Bye. Tell CK I said sorry!” he added quickly.
She rolled her eyes and hung up, sighing happily as Clark continued his slow but steady exploration of her neck.
A minute later, they were interrupted by a beeping sound, and Lois dropped her head to his shoulder and whimpered.
“It’s just the timer for the noodles,” he said, laughter in his voice.
“Make it go away,” she replied, feathering kisses along his neck. He inhaled sharply and she smiled. “Oh? Not so funny, now?”
He stepped out of her embrace and pulled the pot of noodles from the burner. “Where is your colander?”
Lois gave him a sheepish grin.
“Honey! Seriously? You don’t have a colander?” He was so stunned, so absolutely baffled, that she lost it and started laughing.
“I told you!” she said through her laughter. “I don’t cook!”
He shook his head in dismay, and took the pot to the sink. He cast around for a minute, and then found the lid, using it to strain the water from the noodles as best as possible.
Their dinner was delicious, despite the lack of colander, and as they ate together at her kitchen table she couldn’t remember a time she felt more…right. It was so natural having him there, asking him for help with her work, watching him cook, eating meals with him. He had told her earlier that he wasn’t in Metropolis for a vacation, that he was here because he wanted to be a part of her life. And that moment felt exactly like that…like he was a part of her life. The best part.
After dinner they worked together to clean the kitchen and wash the dishes, and she felt it again. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, drying the dishes she was washing, thinking again that this felt so right. He turned and saw something in her look, and smiled at her, eyebrows raised.
“I’m just so glad you’re here,” she confessed. “I know this wasn’t what we planned, but I had such a nice day.”
“Me too,” he said with a smile.
“No, I had a really nice day,” she insisted, laughing self-consciously, but wanting him to understand. “Probably one of the best days ever. It wasn’t the funniest or the wildest….”
“Don’t knock yourself out, Lois,” he said with a wink.
She giggled, and then tried again. “It just…seemed to work.”
He nodded, finally seeming to understand her point. He set the dish towel down on the counter and reached for her, cradling her face in his hands and kissing her gently.
Her heart lurched as he stroked her cheek, kissing her again, more deeply this time. She surrendered to the kisses, forgetting everything but the feel of his lips, the taste of his mouth. The thrill of being with him like this seeped through her body slowly, the warmth spreading out from her chest through her limbs, until she ached to touch him.
She reached for him, her hands sliding over his chest, up around his neck. He stepped back suddenly, pulling his lips from hers and sliding out of her grasp.
“Honey,” he said, shocked and laughing.
She looked at him, baffled, her mind still trying to catch up. He was laughing too hard to explain, and finally her gaze slid down from his smile to the soaking wet spots on his blue t-shirt, and the smear of bubbles still visible where the shirt clung to his chest. She looked from his shirt, to her hands, still soaking wet, and realized she had been washing the last of the pots and pans when he had kissed her.
She felt the laughter bubbling up inside of her as she reached for the dish towel he handed to her. “I’m sorry,” she said, cracking up. “I don’t know…. I just….”
He laughed with her, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’m pretty sure I should be flattered by this,” he teased.
She laughed even harder. “This is not my fault. You make me crazy! I can’t think straight.”
He laughed again, as if he couldn’t believe this was really happening, and her heart swelled with affection for him - this man who somehow made her feel completely comfortable and at home and also drove her absolutely crazy with his touch. He blushed, and she could see the war on his face between embarrassment and pride.
“I wish you could see your face!” she said, her laughter coming in great peals now. “God, I love you.”
The words were out of her mouth before she had time to realize what she had said. She saw them register on his face before they even echoed in her ear. She stopped laughing immediately, her heart dropping into her stomach.
Her immediate inclination was to take it back. To tell him she hadn’t meant it. It was just an expression. She was caught up in the moment. Of course she loved him. But she didn’t love him. She hadn’t meant it like that.
But she did. She absolutely loved him. And she didn’t want to take it back.
“I’m sorry,” she said awkwardly. “I didn’t mean to say that. It just…slipped out. I know, it’s really early, and it’s totally fine if you don’t…. I didn’t mean to pressure you…”
“I love you too,” he said softly.
“That’s the last thing I would want to do. I… I don’t expect you to– What did you say?” she asked, her brain finally catching up with her mouth.
He smiled at her sweetly and reached out to cup her cheek. “I love you, Lois.”
He lowered his lips to hers and kissed her again, and her heart swelled until it ached in her chest. He loved her.
When he pulled away, he stroked her cheek and looked at her like she was the most precious thing on earth, and her brain raced but could not keep up with what was happening.
“Why do you look so shocked?” he said with a gentle laugh. “Honey, I have been in love with you for a long time. You had to have known.”
“Well, I mean….I knew…I mean, I… I guess I knew,” she fumbled. “That you liked me. Or were attracted to me….”
“Lois, I am completely in love with you,” he said slowly and clearly, without any poetry or flowery language. Just a simple declaration. And it was the most beautiful thing she had ever heard.
“Yeah?” she asked, needing him to confirm it just one more time.
“Yeah,” he said, lowering his mouth to hers again, and she slid her now-dry hands around his neck and let herself feel the love in his kiss. She sighed happily as they pulled apart, her hands drifting back to his chest, and stopping abruptly when they encountered the cold, wet patches she had left behind a few minutes earlier.
She pulled back far enough to look at him, and tried to stifle a laugh. “You should go change. I can finish up in here.”
She reached back into the soapy water and finished washing and rinsing the last pot.
Clark just smiled at her. “What do you want to do now?” he asked, as she reached for the dish towel. “It’s still early. Do you want to go out for a while? We could go see a movie or something?”
She nodded eagerly, suddenly very much wanting to go to a movie with him. She had loved his birthday surprise of watching a movie with her over the phone more than she could possibly express. But she wanted to hold hands in the dark and eat popcorn and just be a normal couple who didn’t live a thousand miles apart.
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll go change. You go look at the movie listings and see if you can find something that sounds good.”
He kissed her on the cheek and left her alone in the kitchen to rinse out the sink and dry off the counter.
She finished quickly and then walked to the living room, retrieving that morning’s Daily Planet from where she had left it on the coffee table hours earlier. She picked it up, looking at the headline and thinking that the day they had spent working together in the newsroom already felt like weeks ago. They had crammed so much into the last thirty hours or so.
Her gaze fell to the “continued on page A5” note at the bottom of her article, and she flipped to page five, where she found his sidebar next to the rest of her article. She smiled at the sight of his byline, and read the article carefully, noting how clean and precise his writing was.
He was a good teacher. A great teacher even. His students adored him. He made such a huge difference in their lives.
Still, she knew that a part of him regretted not working as a reporter; that he had conflicting feelings about the way his career was sidetracked by his father’s heart attack. This article, which he had dashed off so quickly and effortlessly, proved that he was more than capable of doing that job if that was still what he wanted.
She heard his footsteps and smiled.
“Did you find something you want to see?” he asked, coming to sit beside her.
“No, actually. I wasn’t able to get past your article about the FAA regulations. It’s first rate.”
He ducked his head and laughed self-consciously. “Thank you.”
“I’m serious, Clark,” she said softly, reaching out to stroke his cheek. “You’re so talented.”
He kissed her gently, then nodded toward the paper. “We should find a showing before it’s too late.”
*****
Lois closed the door behind her, locking each of the locks in turn.
They had settled on a popular comedy, despite Lois’ concern that it would be the kind of slapstick comedy that made her roll her eyes rather than laugh. And, thankfully, the lackluster writing was saved by the stellar performances of the two lead actors. After the movie, still not ready to end the evening, they had stopped for ice cream and then just strolled around the block, enjoying the lights of the city.
It was not particularly late, not yet eleven, but it had been a marathon day and yesterday had been even worse, and she could feel herself flagging a little.
“Do you want to turn on LNN for a while and check on things?” Clark asked.
She smiled, amazed at how well he knew her. She nodded, and they made their way into the living room, settling on the couch together. She picked up the remote and flipped on the television, and they watched in silence for a few minutes as the anchormen scrolled through the top stories of the day.
Finally they got to Luthor, and she was gratified to see that there was no new information. They aired some footage of the earlier press conference in front of Luthor Towers, and the on air reporters bantered back and forth for a while with their personal theories about where Luthor had gone, but it was clear that they had no inside information on his whereabouts.
Lois picked up the remote again and turned off the television, then turned to Clark. “You want to try the Air and Space Museum again tomorrow? We might actually make it there this time.”
He smiled and reached over to stroke her cheek. “Yeah, let’s do that. But if we wind up having to postpone again, that’s okay too.”
She smiled, so thankful for his patience and understanding. As much as she wanted Luthor captured and back behind bars, she couldn’t help but hope he would lay low long enough for her to spend some quality time with her boyfriend. Her boyfriend. Who loved her. She felt her cheeks warm as she remembered his declaration of love earlier.
Clark's face slid into a warm smile, and she knew he must have at least some idea what she was thinking. Then he bent his head and captured her lips in a gentle kiss. She sighed against his mouth, sliding her hands around his neck and stroking the soft hair at the nape.
His hands went to her waist, holding her tight as he deepened the kiss, and Lois felt herself getting lost in his touch. His mouth moved over hers so expertly, stealing her ability to think of anything but him and the way he made her feel.
He pulled away, and she whimpered, but the sense of loss disappeared a moment later when his lips found her neck. She whispered his name, one hand sliding up to tangle in his hair, urging him on. He didn't need any more encouragement. His lips trailed kisses up her neck until he reached her ear. He feathered the lightest of kisses right behind her ear, and then whispered, “I love you.”
She gasped, a shock of desire racing through her. He pulled back and looked at her, his face so tender and sweet.
“I love you too,” she whispered, the words barely audible. She couldn't believe this was real. He was real. This was really happening.
He smiled and kissed her again, his kisses needier now. One hand slid up from her waist to span her ribs as it had last night, and quiet warning bells went off in her mind. Last night had been….amazing. Incredible. Passionate. But it had also been unplanned and unexpected. She hadn’t meant for things to go so far, so fast.
She didn’t regret that they had. His hands on her body, the look in his eyes as he loved her with his touch, she didn’t regret that one bit. But she feared that she might have sent the wrong message about how much she was ready for.
And now that they had said they loved each other…it seemed only reasonable that he was expecting they would make love tonight. Why wouldn’t they? They were grown adults in a committed relationship who loved each other. It seemed obvious that was the next step.
And she did want to make love to him. So badly. But her past history with sexual relationships was…complicated.
She had only been with two men. The first was a college boy she had crushed on her whole freshman year before he finally paid her any attention. They had gone on one date, and she had been so smitten, so sure that this was finally happening for her. That a boy – a smart, funny, handsome boy who she had been pining for all year – really liked her.
When he invited her back to his apartment, she had gone willingly. He had made her no promises, no commitments. But in her heart, she believed it was only a matter of time. Less than a week later, he had moved on to her best friend, someone far more experienced and adventurous who seemed to enjoy casual sex and had no compunction about flaunting her exploits with the boy Lois had once thought truly cared about her.
She had been gutted by the betrayal, far more upset with her friend than with the boy she eventually realized never cared about her, and their friendship had come to a fiery end. She had confronted her former friend months later, only to have her roll her eyes and dismiss Lois’ heartbreak as childish and unearned given that the extent of her so-called relationship was a one night stand.
It had taken her three years to try again. Three years of turning down dates, holding friends at arm's length, focusing on school, and longing for someone to love her.
And then Claude.
In retrospect, she had been so naive. So gullible. His reputation around the office was unparalleled. Everyone knew he could charm the pants off any woman he met, and he loved to brag about his conquests.
But he had been so sweet to her when everyone else was so rude. He defended her when their coworkers said she was too young, too inexperienced. He told her she was beautiful and smart and mature for her age. He said they were a perfect combination. And unlike Paul, who had been concerned only with his own pleasure, Claude had taken great care to make things good for her when she had finally caved and gone home with him.
Three times that week, they had stolen away after work, avoiding the prying eyes of their coworkers and falling into bed the second they were through his front door. On the fourth time, she had taken him to her place. And she had believed it was a turning point in their relationship. That it was, in fact, a relationship and not just something clandestine. He had spent the night, something she had never done at his place. And when she woke up the next morning and he was gone, her heart had been in her stomach even before she realized all her notes on her current investigation were gone.
She had thought once that it was premeditated. That he had seduced her in order to steal her story. But with time she had come to realize that the stealing of the story was just a crime of opportunity. He had seen her notes, and he had wanted them. So he had taken them. And she hadn’t mattered enough to him to make him think twice about that betrayal.
In a way, that hurt even more. He wasn’t an evil mastermind. He was just another guy who slept with her and didn’t care. Before she had even had time to grasp what had happened, the coffee pot rumor mill was buzzing about his newest conquest and all the ways she had blown his mind.
And that was it. That was the extent of her experience. A handful of encounters with two men who didn’t love her or even really want her. Two men she obviously couldn’t satisfy. Since then, she had dated a handful of men, but all of those relationships had stayed casual and sex hadn’t even been a consideration.
And now Clark. Oh, Clark. He was so different. So patient. So sweet. So gentle. He loved her. She had no doubt of that truth. It wasn’t just in his words – it was there in his eyes and the way he touched her. It was there in the way that he called her every day when they were apart and in his voice when she answered the phone. It was there in the way that he never complained about her work getting in the way of their plans. He loved her. And she loved him.
But sex was…complicated. He was so incredible. So…gorgeous. She could only imagine the women he had been with in the past. Beautiful. Experienced. Confident. How could she ever compare? How could she ever be enough for him? She hadn’t been enough for Paul or Claude and they were nothing compared to him.
“Hey,” he said softly, pulling away from their kiss and cupping her cheek. “Where did you go?”
She shook her head, trying to push away her concerns. She reached for him, pulling him back, and kissing him enthusiastically. But that voice was still in her head. She couldn’t relax. She was waiting for him to suggest moving to the bedroom, and her mind warred over whether she should say yes or no. She didn’t feel ready, but she might not ever feel ready. And she loved him. And he made her feel so good.
He pulled back again and looked at her, his brow creased with concern. His hand came up to cup her cheek, and he waited, not saying a word, just waiting for her to speak.
“Last night….” she said finally. “Last night was amazing…and intense…and….”
“And a lot faster than you expected?” he finished gently.
She shrugged, willing herself not to cry.
He stroked her cheek sweetly and kissed her forehead. “I know. We got a little carried away. I just missed you so much. And I think we were on an adrenaline high.”
She nodded, so thankful that he was talking to her, that he wasn’t upset or angry.
“We’ll go as slow as you want, Lois. I’m not in any rush. I love you. I want to be with you. This part…we can take this slow.”
He was so earnest, so genuine. She could see how much he meant it. She wanted to be honest with him. She wanted to talk to him. But it was so awkward and this was something she never talked about with anyone.
His brow furrowed again, and she could see that he was concerned for her. “What is it, Lois? You can tell me. Whatever it is. Why are you nervous?”
“I’m not good at this,” she confessed.
“At talking about this stuff?” he asked. “I know. It feels weird. But I want–”
“No,” she interrupted. “This. Sex. Whatever. I’m not good at it.”
A look of complete shock and disbelief crossed his face before he schooled his features back into a neutral expression.
“Why…why do you think that?” he asked carefully.
She took a deep breath. “I just…. I’ve only…a few times, and… I don’t really…. I just, I don’t know what you’re used to or what you’re expecting, but I…don’t really know what I’m doing, and I don’t want you to be disappointed…and, oh god this is awk-”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he said, holding up his hands to stop her. “First of all, I’m not expecting anything. I have no…preconceived expectations. And second.… Honey, everything you do…when you touch me…It’s so good. I don’t know what happened, why you think you aren’t good at this. But I’m just going to flat out tell you that’s not true.”
She looked at him questioningly, desperately wanting to believe he meant that.
He rolled his eyes and shook his head self-deprecatingly. “Lois, you were here on this couch with me last night. You can’t really think I was…unaffected.”
She felt her cheeks warm, remembering.
“Yeah,” he said awkwardly, his own cheeks flushed. “So no more of this ‘I’m not good at this’ nonsense. You are….magnificent.”
She dropped her head to the crook of his neck, desperately needing to touch him and also trying not to die of embarrassment. He rubbed her back slowly, and she felt the tension slowly leave her body.
“We can back off as much as you want, Lois,” he said gently.
She pulled back and looked at him. Her nerves twisted in her stomach again. “I don’t want to back off. I love the way you touch me. I just…. I’m not ready….”
“To make love?”
She nodded, examining his face for disappointment or annoyance and finding none.
He smiled and stroked her cheek. “There’s no rush. We have all the time in the world.”
She nodded, comforted by his reassurance, but still unsettled.
“I’m sorry,” she said finally.
He flinched. “Sorry? What are you sorry for?”
She sighed. “I don’t mean to…drag my feet. I do want to make love to you. I’m not playing hard to get. I’m not-“
“Stop,” he said, quietly but firmly. “Do not apologize to me for not being ready. I don’t want to make love to you if you aren’t completely ready. If you aren’t ready, we aren’t ready.”
Her heart fluttered at the absolute certainty in his voice.
“Other women wouldn’t make you wait,” she said quietly.
“Lois, I don’t want other women,” he said gently. He stopped, and took a deep breath, exhaling noisily. He ran a hand through his hair, clearly debating adding something else. Finally he shrugged and grimaced awkwardly. “I’ve waited thirty years. I can wait a little longer.”
It took her a minute to process his words. She raised an eyebrow, certain she was misinterpreting, but he nodded as if to confirm her suspicions.
“Never?” she said.
“Never,” he said quietly.
“How is that possible?” she asked, more to herself than to him. He was the most incredible man she had ever met. He was sweet and funny and successful and talented and smart and jaw-droppingly handsome.
“Remember when you asked how it was possible that I was still single, and I told you that I hadn’t met the right person?”
She nodded, remembering that conversation in his living room last month, just hours before he had asked her to be his girlfriend.
“I was waiting,” he said. “I was waiting for someone special. I was waiting for you.”
Her heart lurched, and her breath caught in her throat.
“I’m so thankful I found you,” he continued. “And so happy to be with you. And I do want to make love to you…when we’re ready. And until then, I’m not just…biding my time, waiting. I’m so so happy. Right now. Being with you. Spending time with you. Kissing you. Touching you. This is the happiest I’ve ever been.”
She reached out to stroke his cheek, overwhelmed by his beautiful words. “You cannot possibly be real,” she whispered
He laughed softly, almost as if he was relieved by her response. “Do you still think this is a dream?” he teased.
“If it is, don’t wake me up,” she said. And then her lips were on his, and all thoughts of past lovers and past heartbreak were gone, and it was just the two of them, and she was lost in the feelings he evoked in her and the promise of so much more to come.
