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“I love you too, Angel,” he sighs. “God, it feels good to say that to you.”
Gently slipping out of me, I moan at the loss only for a moment before he has me spun around and facing him so he can kiss me thoroughly. Hands roam over every inch of exposed skin, caressing every curve and angle, sifting through every strand of hair. Our languid sticky morning kiss makes me hungry for all the years ahead of us—of waking up in each other’s arms, disheveled, vulnerable, and completely in love. And there’s a new and different ache than before. Gone is the pain of unrequited love and in its place is longing for our future.
When Rafael’s hand cups my swollen sex and his fingers stroke through my seam, I’m urgently reminded that a trip to the bathroom is required. “Hold on,” I smile against his full lips. “I need to empty my bladder,” I giggle, knowing it’s the least sexy thing to say.
“Mmm,” he rumbles, pulling back the covers for me. “Hurry back.” He taps my butt as I get out of bed, and when I return, he’s looking effortlessly erotic propped against the headboard, one leg snaking out from the bedding, showing off his long muscular legs all the way up to his bare shoulders. The sunshine illuminates him and I marvel at his beauty.
All mine.
He’s scrolling his phone, and when he spots me just before I get back into bed, he gives me that devilish dimpled smile that has me rearing to go again. He taps his phone once without taking his eyes off me and the song I Think I Like You by The Band CAMINO plays.
“Oh, you just like me, huh?” I smirk, crawling back into bed and giving him a kiss on all fours.
“All of sudden these songs mean a lot more when they’re about us.”
I melt into his kiss as he brings me in to snuggle against him. But there’s a lingering question that still hasn’t been answered and I can’t keep it down anymore.
“What changed your mind about me?” I ask. “What was holding you back before?”
Rafael takes a deep breath and pulls my head back just enough to look me in the eyes and stroke my hair. “There had always been a part of me that wanted to be just like my father.” I nod because I knew that. I didn’t understand it, but I knew it. “He used to say something that stuck with me. He told me women will only ruin my life and to never get close. Of course, I applied that to anyone I…dated. I saw him yesterday actually,” he admits, and I jerk my head back.
“You did?”
“Yeah. He came to town for the World Series and we had a short visit. And as I listened to him, there was this repulsive feeling I got. Like I couldn’t understand why I had been trying so hard to be like him all these years. I didn’t want to end up like him. I wanted what we already had, Angel. I wanted it stronger. I wanted it forever.”
“That’s why you’ve never committed to someone? Because of what your dad said?”
“Mom thinks it’s because I didn’t see him enough. So I idolized the version I remembered as a child long into my adult years. And she’s probably right. Pleasing him was always something I strived for, but after his visit, I couldn’t understand why anymore. That,” he sighs, “and I just realized the relationship I have with him is exhausting. I’ve always seen marriage, relationships, as transactional.”
“That’s so bizarre to me,” I say, tracing my fingertips against his skin. “You have such an excellent relationship with your moms, and they’ve led an enviable marriage to look up to.”
He sighs. “Yeah. I know I’ve always had their true love and acceptance—and yours—but it’s always been there. I never had to work for it. But with my dad, there’s a constant pressure to please him.
“I think there’s a strong inadequacy component to this, too. I’ve done nothing but work at earning his love and I’ve fallen short more than I’ve succeeded. I also think I saw him fail at his own marriage and thought to myself, Why would I even try if he can’t make it work? It’s something I plan on digging into deeper…in therapy,” he says, and I back up even further but keep my eyes glued to his.
“Therapy?”
“I started going this week.”
“You did?”
“Cora suggested going would show you that I’m serious about my mental health and whatever form our relationship took. And I agree.”
Goddammit, I love my bestie with breasties. She was right. Knowing he’s trying to work on himself fills me with a sense of pride and comfort. Yes, he’s always been a loyal friend, but before now, I never thought he was capable of romantic commitment. He chose us last night, and here he is now, making sure that commitment is protected. And oh my god, he’s going to uncover more about his relationship with his father. I can’t believe all this lingered under his surface. I knew he had issues with his dad, but I didn’t know they went that deep. It sounds like he didn’t know until recently either.
“How did you get an appointment so fast?”
“Two, actually. I’ve had two online appointments,” he says. “I know I’ve only broken the surface with therapy, and we haven’t covered much yet, but I’m gonna stick with it. Honestly, most of my revelations about myself and you and my father have been my own digging. Cora helped. So did my mom. You know, now that I think about it, I should really listen to the women in my life more,” he smirks.
“Yeah, you should,” I chuckle. “You know those tele-therapy sites sell your information, right?”
“Yeah,” he says. “I kind of don’t care if the whole world knows. What I care about is being the best father, boyfriend, and eventually husband to you.”
Suddenly, my heart skips a beat and I struggle to reply. “Husband?”
He leans in to slowly press a kiss to my forehead and my eyes close on impact. “You heard me.”
“I must be dreaming,” I say breathlessly. But when the lyrics to Angel by Shaggy and Rayvon start to fill the room, we both dissolve into a laughter and I know for a fact I’m not dreaming.
