Page 43 of Meant For Love
“Not as big as my dick, though.” I point at her, making her laugh. “Don’t forget that.”
“How could you ever let me forget that,” she deadpans, pulling the white ribbon off the white box. She lays it flat on the counter before she pulls the top off and moves the tissue paper off the frame that is in the box. “Nash,” she whispers, “this is…” She looks into the box, her finger trailing over the glass. Inside is a frame I had made with three hearts in the middle of it. Under each heart is a different saying and the date of when the event happened. The first heart is the day we met and the location we met, with the word “Hello.” The second heart says “Will You?” And the third has “I Do.”
“It’s a map of our story. A controversial one, but a map nonetheless,” I explain, and she turns to look at me. I see she has tears in her eyes that she’s ferociously blinking away. “I wanted you to put it where you wanted to.”
“This is…” She looks down at the frame in the box. “I can’t believe,” she says and then laughs, “the Will You and the I Do have the same date and almost the same location.”
“Yeah, the man who did it messaged me twice to make sure I didn’t fuck it up. I was going to put it up on the wall.” I point at the wall we just walked past that faces the staircase. “That way, everyone sees it when they walk in. We can put family pictures around it, but it’ll be like the wall's foundation. Sort of like our family tree.”
“That sounds like a great idea.” Her voice is soft as she looks back down at the picture in the box.
“Do you want something to drink?” I ask her, walking over to the stainless-steel fridge. “I had them stock the coconut water you like as well as the sparkling water.”
She shakes her head as she walks over to the family room. “This room”—her hand goes in a circle from the kitchen that leads to the family room—“it’s very much like the house I grew up in.” She clears her throat. “I can’t tell you all the time I spent at the island doing homework and then sitting on the couch while my mother was in the kitchen making or trying to make food.” She laughs as she remembers. “It is what I always wanted in the house I was going to live in.”
“Well, I guess we can say one for LA, then.” I put my hands in my back pockets as she walks into the family room and gasps, looking at the wall. “Our wedding picture,” I say when she points at the portrait hung up on the wall facing the couch.
“I’ve never seen this picture,” she tells me. It’s similar to the one we posted, but this one has her leaning forward a bit, and her mouth is open as she laughs. Her face beams with happiness, which is why I chose it.
“We can change it if you like. It’s just that I love your smile in that one, and I swear I can hear your laughter through the picture.
“We do look happy, don’t we?” I ask as she walks over and puts her hands on my hips.
“We do,” she admits. “Now, are you going to show me upstairs?”
“Is that code for you want to see my dick?” I push the hair over her shoulders so I can kiss her neck. “Because the answer is always yes.”
I stroll over to the stairs as we walk up and head straight to my bedroom. “How many bedrooms are in this house?” She looks around when we get to the top of the stairs.
“Five bedrooms and a media room. The master bedroom is on that side.” I point over to the other side of the staircase.
“Where the magic happens.” She holds one of my hands in both of hers.
“I can tell you there will be magic there tonight,” I confirm before she’s the one pulling me toward the bedroom. “Of course we can change anything you don’t like,” I tell her when she steps into the bedroom, and she stops in her tracks at the door. I had the bedroom changed to everything she has in her house in New York. The same covers and pillows, even the same throw blankets.
“What?” she says, looking at me. “How?”
“I asked Zara,” I tell her, shrugging, “before she started her day drinking. Whatever she didn’t remember, your mom did.” She walks over to the bed with a white robe folded on the top. “I noticed you wore the white robe all the time on vacation. It just has your initials on the front and not the name of the hotel. I’d prefer you naked, but this one is similar.”
“I’ll try my best to be as naked as I can be, just to make you feel more at home, that is. I’m going to start now.” She peels her T-shirt over her head. “I’m going to get in the shower while you go get my bag.”
“But then you’ll have clothes to wear,” I counter, and she laughs.
“I promise not to wear any clothes for the rest of the night.” She turns and walks to the bathroom. “That is until we leave to go to work tomorrow.”
“Fine.” I give in. “I’ll get the bags and meet you in the shower.”
“So what you’re saying is you are giving me a full two minutes to wash myself before you come and fuck me?”
“No.” I shake my head, walking to her and pulling her to me for her to feel my cock is ready to join her. “I’m giving you a minute and maybe a half. I’m bringing the bags in. I don’t have to bring them up.” She puts her head back and laughs. “Go get naked and wet for me.”
“Nash.” She puts her hand on my cheek. “Not sure you’ve been paying attention, but I’m always wet for you.” She kisses my jaw. “Just thinking about this”—she palms my cock over my pants—“and it’s like I’m instantly ready for you.”
“How bad do you need the bags?” I ask, gripping her hips harder in my hands as she wraps her arms around my neck. “I have a Ring cam.” I pick her up and carry her into the bathroom, her feet never touching the floor. “If anything happens, I’ll replace everything in there and then some.” I turn on the water in the shower. I don’t give her a chance to answer because my tongue slides into her mouth, and that’s all it takes. Our hands frantically try to get the other one naked like we haven’t been together in weeks instead of hours, and when she walks out of the shower before me, I can still see my fingerprints on her ass cheeks.
I’m slipping on a pair of shorts when she storms back into the bathroom wearing the robe that was on the bed. “Um, what the fuck is in the master closet?” She puts her hands on her hips. “Seriously, Nash, what the fuck?” I stand here, my hands still in the elastic of my boxers. “There’s women’s clothing hanging in the closet.” Her voice rises even higher. “Is there something you should have told me before I moved in here?” She folds her hands over her chest, and I can see her chest rising and falling, and her eyes look like she could kill me. I start to open my mouth. “I can’t believe you.” She throws her hands up. “A woman was living in this house, and she still has clothes here, and you didn’t even have the decency to tell me before.” She shakes her head. “Unbelievable. I knew you were too good to be true,” she hisses, and I fold my hands over my chest, pissed. “Don’t you give me that fucking look, Nash. You fucking lied to me.” She jabs her finger in my direction. “Un-fucking-believable.”
“Are you done?” I ask, and she just glares at me. I can say at this moment we are glaring at each other. “For your information, those clothes are yours. I told your mother you were moving in with me, and she set it up so you would have a wardrobe ready for you here in case you were missing anything. She—” Her face goes soft. “I don’t know what she did, but she had everything delivered here and ready for you. Those are your fucking clothes.” I point at the closet. “I can’t believe you would think I would have a woman living here and not tell you.” I shake my head before I walk out of the bathroom and say something I can’t take back. I get our luggage from the front door before turning off all the lights and bringing the suitcases upstairs with me. When I walk into the room, she’s in the middle of the bed, sitting on the back of her feet, waiting for me.