“This is getting serious. We’re taking a big step, and after what happened, I just need to know if this is still—"
“Are you backing out?” he snaps.
“No. I’m not backing out. I’m just…”
He ambushes me. Grabbing the back of my neck, he heaves me against him, putting our faces within inches as he glares at me. “I thought I was going to die. And all I kept thinking when they put me through that stupid CT scan machine was that if I made it through this without fucking brain damage, then I was never going to waste a stupid day of my life ever again. Because that would just be my luck. To finally find happiness and then lose it that fast. So tell me, Maggie. Why the fuck would I stay here when I could have the life I always wanted with you there?”
“I don’t know…” I argue. “I was afraid it was too intense or dangerous…”
“My life is boring as hell!” he replies. “Playing video games and working at some shit job is not a life worth getting knocked over the head for. But the life we could have in Phoenix…”
“Are you sure?” I ask again.
“Fuck. Please stop asking me that.”
I don’t bother responding, at least not with words. Instead, I kiss him. And that’s answer enough. Just because he likes me to make choices for him doesn’t mean he’s not capable of doing it himself.
“I wasn’t doubting you,” I say, pulling away.
“Good,” he replies, diving back in for a kiss. As he shoves me against the boxes, I let out a groan. His body is like heaven in my hands. He feels strong and alive, and that thought alone has my core warming with desire.
“Maggie,” he breathes into my mouth, “I need you.”
I know I shouldn’t give in. I’m not supposed to be spoiling him, but dammit, I want this too. And the doctor never said anything about sex, just no strenuous activities.
Wrapping my hand around the collar of his T-shirt, I keep his lips against mine as I pull him toward the stairs. He follows like a hungry puppy, all the way to my room. I’m practically walking him like he’s on a leash, and it reminds me of something.
When we reach my room, I freeze. Sensing my hesitation, he pulls back and asks, “What’s wrong?”
“I bought you something.”
When his face falls into a mix of dread and worry, I laugh. “It’s not bad, I promise.”
“Your gifts usually hurt.”
I kiss him on the cheek as I head over to my bedside table, where I stashed it away. It looks more like a necklace box than anything, but as soon as I hold it out to him, his eyes stare at it as if he knows.
“I guess this is proof that I was never doubting you.”
I hand it to him, and he slides it open before running his fingers over the sleek black leather collar.
“This is a symbol of commitment, a promise that I will always take care of you. That I will always have your best interests at heart. This…means you’re mine.”
His eyes dance up toward my face as he swallows. I wait for his confirmation before I take it out of its box.
“You never have to wear it outside of the house or in public. It’s just for us.”
He nods, and his eyes don’t leave the collar.
“Is that…something you want? You can say no.”
“Of course, it is,” he replies warmly. “I couldn’t imagine saying this to anyone else, but with you, I want this.”
I can’t put into words what it feels like to hear him say those words, to know how much he genuinely wants me, and not just for sex or kink or convenience, but me. This thing between us is real, and with any luck, it will last forever.