“I missed you when you were gone, Ellie. It made me sad. So I wanted something here that made me smile.”

My heart beat in triple time, wanting to leap out of my chest. I thought again about Reggie and how sad and pathetic she had seemed at Darla’s. I had been going down that same path for so long.

I had partied and used drugs without thinking anything of it. I had slept around without giving my heart to anyone. I had been lonely and miserable and had hated absolutely everyone.

But most of all I had hated myself.

And this man standing in front of me had changed all of that. By loving me unconditionally, he had resurrected an Ellie that I had thought dead and buried.

Flynn had taught me that living was more than breathing. And that earning and deserving love were battles worth fighting.

“I picked up dinner on my way home. I went to Ma’s Diner and made sure to get two slices of Key Lime Pie. It’s your favorite. And I got some more of that caramel crème sweetener for your coffee,” Flynn continued.

He wanted me to be happy. He wanted me to feel comfortable and at home. And even if he had yet to tell me the words, his love was in everything he did.

All of the frustrations and irritations that had been bothering me since returning to Wellston didn’t seem so important anymore.

I reached out and pulled Flynn toward me. He resisted at first but then came closer. His hands came out of his pockets and he buried them in my hair, pressing slightly into my skull.

“I like your hair. It’s so pretty,” he said softly. My throat felt tight and I couldn’t speak.

Behind closed eyelids I could see everything. Flynn. Me. Our future together. Jobs. Vacations. Holidays.

Children.

I was all there.

This was my life.

The one I had always wanted.

And it was finally here, ready for me to reach out, grab it, and never letting go.

I needed to remember this moment, this exact feeling, when the inevitable second-guessing surfaced from where it always resided deep inside me.

The smile on Flynn’s face. The butterflies in my stomach when he touched me. This knowing that we belonged together.

It would get me through the bad times. Because with me, I had to expect them.

Flynn leaned down and kissed my forehead and I sank into him. My body gravitated towards his.

I tilted my head up and he kissed me slowly and softly at first. The hesitant meeting of lips.

Careful.

Perfect.

“You taste like sugar,” Flynn murmured against my mouth and I smiled.

And then he wasn’t tentative and unsure anymore. He was hurried and desperate.

He yanked my shirt up over my head and dropped it on the floor, his fingers fumbling on the clasp of my bra. In all the time we had been sleeping together, he had never quite gotten the hang of getting it off without inflicting bodily harm.

I took over, sliding my bra off my arms. Flynn pulled back and stared down at my breasts, his normally placid expression fervent and adoring. I loved it when Flynn looked at me like that. Like I was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

He palmed both of my breasts, letting out a low groan as my flesh filled his hands. Flynn was definitely a boobs guy.

Soon his hands were replaced with his mouth and the only sound in the room was the rustle of our clothes as we made quick work of getting naked.

And our frenzied pants and the sound of skin on skin.

Flynn practically carried me to the bed and lay me down. He covered my body with his, touching and kissing me everywhere.

For a time there was nothing else in the world but the two of us. Nothing but the way he made me feel. Nothing but the sound of my name on his lips.

“I love you, Flynn,” I gasped as he entered me, arching my back off the bed.

Flynn answered me in the only way that he knew how. He kissed the hollow of my throat, his mouth lingering there as we moved together. His hands professed their love in a way that his lips never could.

And when we were finished, Flynn held me, his fingers idly playing with my hair.

He hated the sweat and the feeling of sticky skin so I knew it was only a matter of time before our moment of post-coital bliss would end. So I enjoyed it while I could.

“We can do that anytime we want now,” Flynn said, his voice a little loud in the quiet.

I chuckled, my ear pressed against his chest. The constant, steady beat of his heart thudding beneath my cheek.

“Yeah, I guess so,” I agreed, leaning down to kiss his stomach. The muscles clenched in response to my touch.

“If you give me a few minutes, I think we could do it again now,” Flynn stated matter of factly.

I laughed harder. “Oh yeah? You think so?” I asked, looking up at him through my eyelashes.

His hair was in messy disarray around his face. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were sparkling. His lips quirked into a small grin.

“I don’t even care that I’m all sticky. I want to have sex again,” Flynn announced, rolling me on my back.

I twined my arms around his neck, my legs wrapping around his waist. “I think that sounds like an excellent idea,” I agreed.

**

A little while later, after getting showers and finally eating our now cold dinner (which Flynn complained about but still ate), I sat in the living room watching television while Flynn sat at a table in the corner, hunched over.

He kept some of his sculpting tools at home for working in the evenings. He had continued with his model business even after taking the full-time teaching job. Though he produced for less than he used to.