"I didn’t ask Xander where he lives."
"He lives about ten minutes from here in his own apartment. I asked him to share this place, but he thought it was time for us to get some space."
She nodded again. We were both quiet for a minute.
"Eden . . ."
She licked her lips and opened them as if she was going to say something, but then closed them, furrowing her brow. Then her face crumpled and she heaved in a big, shaky breath. "This is . . ." she let out a small sob, "strange, and it hurts. It's like we . . . and you have a . . . you have a . . ." Her shoulders shook in silent sobs.
At the sight of her tears, pain hit me in the gut, so intense it was actually physical and I jolted slightly, taking a step toward her and pulling her body into mine. "I'm so sorry. So sorry," I kept repeating.
I felt her shaking her head at my chest. "No, no, you thought I was dead, I know. You were trying to move on with your life, I know."
"No," I said loudly and then closed my eyes briefly. "No," I repeated. "I hadn't moved on, Eden. I'd have never moved on. Not ever. I just . . . I don't even know. I wasn't trying to move on, I was just trying to survive. I'm so damn sorry."
We stood there in the darkness, holding each other, moving our hands down each other's bodies as if trying to convince ourselves the other was real, not just a ghost or a dreamy apparition, a figment of our grief-filled imaginations.
I listened to her quiet breathing and clenched my eyes closed. "You still smell like apple blossoms," I whispered, inhaling her beloved scent, the one I never, ever thought I'd smell again—not in this lifetime.
She let out a small breath and I felt her lips smile against my T-shirt. Her hand clenched the fabric next to where her cheek rested.
"You smell different," she murmured. "Like laundry soap."
I shook my head and smiled. This. Was. Incredible. Holding my morning glory. I felt like I was living a dream. We were both silent for several more minutes. "We have so much to talk about."
"I know." But neither of us pulled away, and neither of us asked any questions. I felt her heartbeat against me, steady and sure, and my own sped up. Her softness pressed into me and she was real and solid and alive.
Something shifted, the molecules in the air spun faster around us. Eden lifted her head and gazed into my eyes and then before I had even decided to do it, my lips were on hers and we both moaned, a mixed sound of desperation and relief. My tongue entered her warm, wet mouth and she pressed her body to mine, as we tasted each other, re-familiarizing ourselves.
We began tearing at each other's clothes, shaky, desperate, with no finesse at all. I walked her backward until she slammed up against the wall, a whoosh sound coming up her throat. I drank it down, pressing into her harshly. She pressed back against me, gripping handfuls of my hair and tugging.
I pulled away and lifted my shirt off my body in one swift movement and then lifted Eden's over her head, too. She gasped out.
I unbuttoned my jeans and let them fall, and Eden tripped over her own feet as she bent to remove her own jeans. I caught her, going down sideways to the hardwood floor. We hit with a thud and both grunted out in discomfort. Under other circumstances, it might have been comical, but for me, in that moment, there was only fear and an achy, clawing need. It was almost as if we both wanted to open each other's skin and crawl inside, bury ourselves so deeply that it would be impossible to ever separate us again.
When we were completely undressed and skin-to-skin, we both sighed out again and our kisses grew slower, deeper, some of the desperate need quenched, at least for that moment.
I held her face gently in my hands, one elbow holding me up on the floor as I leaned over her. She brought her hand down and gripped my erection in her fist and I groaned and pressed myself into her hand. It had been so long since I had felt this way—it was still the same. Eden still brought out the same fiery need in me that made me feel as if flames were licking up the inside of my skin.
She pulled me on top of her a little more and wrapped her legs around my hips. We were both trembling, the sounds we were making small, gaspy declarations of our joy, or distress, or aching want. I didn't even know—maybe all of those and even more.
All the things we'd been through together swirled around just at the perimeter of my mind, speeding up my blood, my fear, my longing. Then all the excruciating anguish of the past three years without her invaded my thoughts. Our tears mixed as we kissed, making her taste both sweet and salty.
My desperation to push into her body twisted me inside out. But I took a steadying breath.
I would protect her this time.
I broke from her mouth and reached for my jeans where I took out my wallet and with shaking fingers, removed a condom. I looked back at her and ripped it open with my teeth. Her eyes registered the recognition of what I was doing and grew large with grief. Her face crumpled and her shoulders started shaking slightly as more tears fell. "I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice cracking. "I'm sorry." Whether it was because the condom was an acknowledgment of the agony she'd endured because we hadn't known enough to be careful the first time, or whether it was simply the fact that I had one at all, I wasn't exactly sure. I could only figure it was probably a mixture of both.
She nodded her head. "I know, I know," she whispered. It was as if Eden heard my internal thoughts and was answering both concerns. As if she still knew my heart well enough and forgave me for the ways I'd failed her. My morning glory. Once I'd rolled the condom on, she pulled me down to her again and kissed me deeply. When I plunged inside of her, she broke from my mouth and tipped her head back, gasping out. Oh God, oh God. The feeling was exquisite, blindingly beautiful. She was exquisite. My vision grew blurry, stars burst before my eyes. I grunted and began to move, the pleasure so intense, goosebumps broke out on my entire body.