Page 74 of Benji

“What?”

What the hell?

“If you decide you want to keep working,” he said with a shrug. “I’d maybe have to put down some rules. Like protected sex only. No kissing. That kind of thing.”

I couldn’t believe what he was saying.

“No.” I was almost offended. “No one touches me but you. No one. I can’t even think about another man touching me. Why would you want that?”

“I don’t want that. I thought you wanted that.” He shook his head, his eyes imploring. “I would never change you or stop you from being who you are. You once said that you loved your job, so if you wanted to keep working?—”

I put my forehead to his, crying again. Unable to stop the tears. He was just so understanding, so nice. So perfect. “I don’t know what I’ll do. I have some money now and I’ll figure something out, but I can’t go back to that. I don’t want anyone else to touch me. I don’t want to touch anyone but you. I love sex, yes. But Nolan, baby, only with you. You’re all I need.” I kissed him. “I love you,” I whispered. “I love how you love me. I can’t ask for anything more.” Then I pouted. “Except maybe your surname.”

He laughed, cupping my face and bringing me in for another warm, soft kiss. “Then consider it yours.”

I hugged him and laughed, despite the tears. “I love you, Nolan O’Brien,” I said again.

“And I love you, Benji...” He paused, his eyes scanning mine. “Benji O’Brien.”

I laughed, so ridiculously happy and so, so very loved. “We should celebrate, and I know just the thing.”

He snorted. “What’s that?”

“Me. In my Strawberry Shortcake crop top and not much else. Don’t think I didn’t realise how much you liked me in it.”

He laughed, his smile fading into something serene as he studied my face. “I’m gonna celebrate the hell out of you. For as long as you’ll let me.”

“Are you talking about tonight? Or waaaay into the future? Because I plan on letting you celebrate me forever, Nolan. No one could ever make me happier.”

He kissed me sweetly. “Forever.”

I was so freaking happy. I booped my finger on the tip of his nose. “You know what would make me happier though?”

“Hmm,” he hummed. “What’s that?”

“If I was face down on your bed right now, wearing nothing but that crop top, and?—”

He stood up, carrying me and making me laugh, and walked us to his bedroom. Oh, I wore the crop top all right, and nothing else.

And he celebrated me for hours.

Reminding me over and over that no matter what the future brought our way, we’d be okay.

I’d be okay.

I was stronger now and safe.

And loved.

And that was the only future I needed.

The end