Out On a Limb(90)

“I don’t need spectacle.” I just need you.

Bo groans as he sits up, his head hanging between us until he rolls his neck and gives me that classic mischievous schoolboy grin that kills me every time.

“Morning,” he says, pulling his blanket farther up his lap to cover his bottom half.

“Oh, good morning,” I whisper, leaning forward to capture his lips in a single lazy kiss. “Something wake you?”

“Hmm,” he moans, rubbing his eye with the heel of his palm. “I didn’t think I’d feel hungover. I felt sober when I got to bed.”

“Ah, but love, you’re thirty now.”

He tilts his head slowly, his hair flopping to one side. “I like that,” he says, smiling.

“What?”

“My dream girl is in bed with me, calling me love.”

“Dream girl, huh?” I say, pulling the blanket farther up my chest when I notice his eyes dip lower. I need him to focus.

“How are you so awake?” he asks, widening his eyes and blinking slowly. “I feel like I swallowed rocks.”

“I’m actually sober, remember? The whole baby thing?” I tease, rubbing my hand from his shoulder to his neck, tilting his drooping head back up to look at me. “Wake up.” I need him to tell me how he feels. Because I truly feel like I’m about to burst. “If you’re not going to say it first, I will.”

He chuckles, letting his head fall between us again. “You know, you’ve got a really interesting way of keeping me on my toes. I’ve been fighting every impulse around you because you said we had to be nothing more than friends. Then, after one night together, you want all the cards on the table. Do you know how hard it’s been to not tell you every day? Maybe I should make you wait,” he says, narrowing his eyes at me playfully.

He’s got a point. I’ve led the way this entire time. My boundaries and my rules. He’s kindly and respectfully followed me every step of the way. That’s probably one of the many reasons I’m so in love with him. And I could let him torture me a little—since I’ve been unknowingly keeping him on ice all this time.

But he’s a better person than I am.

I reach across and take Bo’s hand in mine, wrapping my palm around his fingers and squeezing. His smile is still hazy, but his eyes are clearer now. I wait for a small look of permission, a little softened corner of his eye that says go ahead…

“I love you,” I say, squeezing his fingers again. “I’m fully, madly, deeply, and unquestionably in love with you.”

Bo’s shoulders fall on a deep breath in, like he’s taking my words inward. His face contented and patient and so, so happy.

“I’ve been so scared of letting myself feel that way again. I have questioned my judgement, my intentions, and my reasoning since we met, but all along, you’ve been showing me that I can rely on you with little acts every day. And those small doses of kindness and generosity and support and gentleness have chipped away at the hard wall I built around my heart. You never asked for more. You never rushed me. You…”

I swallow, clearing my throat from the emotions clogging it as best I can. “You’ve seen me. Understood me like I’ve never been understood. And I see you now too. I see how truly lovely you are. More importantly, I believe it. With everything inside me, I believe you’re going to be gentle with my heart.”

Bo blinks rapidly, his eyes fluttering as he looks down between us and pulls my hand to his mouth before kissing each knuckle. He leans against my palm, so I cradle his face, and I feel his jaw trembling. “I love you, Win. I love you so much it makes me feel like I’ve hated everything else in my life up until now. Nothing compares to what I feel for you. Not even close.”

“Thank you,” I whisper, pressing my forehead to his.

“Thank you,” he replies.

I want to scream. I want to dance. I want to stay in his arms all day, all year. Mostly, I want to kiss every inch of his body and show him how much I love him over and over again.

“Kiss me,” I say.

His sweet, post-confessional kiss is met with my heated, voracious hunger. He laughs against my mouth, breathless, as I begin trailing kisses down the column of his throat.

“Already, honey?”

“Get used to it, honey.”

Bo pulls the blankets away from my chest and off his lap before tugging me toward him with such force I giggle on impact.

“All right,” he says, lifting me with two strong hands on my hips and dropping me onto his lap. “Let’s see how many times we can do this before breakfast.”

Bo slides his arms under my thighs, lifting me up as he links his hands behind my back, supporting my weight.

“Have I mentioned how much I love you?” I say teasingly as he lines himself up at my entrance, my head rolling back with anticipation.

“You’ll be chanting it soon if I do this right.”



I dart across the hall to the bathroom, covered in only a towel, while Bo goes to check if his father is awake yet. If he is, Bo will also have to do some explaining. And apologising, perhaps. Old house, thin walls, and whatever else.

Either way, not my conversation to have. But I do text Sarah an update about our night and morning together before getting into the steam-filled shower. I watch with glee as my phone buzzes and lights up so many times on the bathroom counter that it slips and falls into the empty sink.