Dylan shrugged, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. “Since the divorce, Kayla’s been floundering. She’s still so bitter and angry, so confrontational anytime we cross paths. It doesn’t even make sense. Our whole relationship, including dating and marriage, was only four years. She still has her whole life ahead of her. She’s a talented graphic designer, and she should be able to succeed with it, but it doesn’t look like she is. I don’t understand what’s happened to her. She’s not the same person she was when we were together. I ran into her yesterday, and I still can’t wrap my head around the way she looked and acted. I have a really bad feeling about the guy she’s with now, and she’s so desperate to latch onto someone who will provide for her, I'm afraid he’s bringing her down with him.”
I hated the self-blame I saw in his eyes. His ex was a selfish bitch who never deserved him in the first place. “It’s not easy to know what you want and need, and it’s really not easy to go after those things when the path toward it requires so muchchange and risk. If you didn’t take that brave step, you and Kayla would’ve woken up one day and realized you’d wasted your lives being unhappy. It’s sad that she’s struggling, but that’s not your responsibility. You didn’t abandon her or cheat on her, and I’m sure you were fair in the divorce process. It’s up to her to move on with her life. You’re not responsible for what she does now, but it shows what a good person you are that you still care. She should’ve worked harder to make your relationship work. She should’ve been proud that you wanted to follow your dream. What you do is so selfless and altruistic and it’s obvious how much you love it. I, for one, am proud of you, and I’m so happy you get to do what you love.”
Dylan grabbed my face and pulled me in for a long, hard kiss. After a moment, he pulled his lips away, but continued to hold my face. “You are nothing like her. Kayla was selfish and so caught up in what others thought of her. Part of the problem was she thought people would look down on her if I was a firefighter or if we didn’t have enough money or the right kind of life. You don’t have a pretentious bone in your body.”
I melted into Dylan’s hold as he continued to dig deeper into my heart with his words. “I love how good-hearted you are. You love the kids you work with, and you see the good in everyone. I love how you see the good in me. If there’s one thing Kayla taught me, it’s what truly matters in a person, and you have everything I want.”
Tears burned my eyes as I pulled back out of his grasp. I hated to ruin the moment, but there was more I needed to say. Love and happiness and this most amazing man were right there within reach, but I never wanted him to have regrets about being with me.
I had to swallow the lump in my throat before I could talk. “I would never purposely hold you back like Kayla did,” I choked out, “but I might do it anyway, just because of the way I am. Youhave to promise me that if there’s things that you want to do that I can’t, you’ll just do them without me. And if that happens too often, or with things that are too important, we’ll break it off. I don’t want that, but I don’t want you to ever feel saddled by me. I’d rather lose you than be with you and feel like a burden.”
“Juls, I want to kick the ass of every person in your life that made you feel like a burden.”
“How will you feel if your friends want to go out dancing? Does the fire department do family events that would be awkward for me? If I don’t want to do those things, are you going to be satisfied doing them without me?”
Dylan dropped his eyes and reached for his coffee, nervously fidgeting with the mug again. “Shit,” he muttered.
“What?”
He sighed and met my eyes. I hated the compassion—close to, but thank God not quite pity—in his expression, like he was trying to let me down easy.
“Just say it.”
“There’s something coming up I was going to invite you to, but then when you told me how you’d rather be hit than partake in your school’s field day, I decided to just decline for both of us. I was fine with that, and I figured you would be too. It’s really not a big deal at all, but I don’t want you to be upset that I made the decision without asking you, and now I hate that something so insignificant might upset you.”
“What is it?”
“A kickball game between a few people from my station and another station in a couple of weeks.”
“Can I just watch the game? I’ll cheer you on?”
“You can, but you might feel uncomfortable if you’re the only one not playing. It’s usually the firefighters versus cops that play, and the girlfriends or boyfriends and spouses all watch. But this game is different. One of the firefighters at Station 7has a girlfriend who has agoraphobia. She’s come to a few of our games, but they were overwhelming for her. Her husband, Sledge, thought that a small game where she played too might be better for her. I’m sorry that it’s worse for you.”
“I don’t know.”
“Come here, baby.” Dylan put his coffee on the end table and gently pulled me onto his lap so I was facing him, my legs straddling his. He wrapped his arms around me and tucked me against his chest. “Don’t worry about the kickball game. We just shared an incredible night and a meaningful morning. I don’t want something so unimportant to taint that. We have two more days together, and I just want to enjoy them with you. I honestly don’t care either way if we go to that game or not, or if I go myself, or if you come and watch. Whatever you want is fine, and you can let me know whenever you decide. No pressure, Juls, I promise.”
“Thank you,” I whispered against his lips, deciding I wasn’t going to let it ruin our day.
To make sure he knew I was ready to move on, I rolled my hips against his. I felt him lengthen and harden beneath me, so I did it again. One of his hands gripped my hip, his fingertips digging into me almost painfully while I continued to grind against him. His other hand speared into my hair, tangling in my curls and holding me in place as he devoured me. I whimpered into his mouth, and he suddenly pushed me off his lap, onto my feet. I was confused for a moment but then he was raising his hips off the couch to pull his pants down. Before I could push my pajamas off, his hands were there, helping me. Next thing I knew, he was rolling on a condom he’d taken from the end table and pulling me back onto his lap.
I gripped his shoulders and slowly lowered myself, sighing in pleasure at the feeling of fullness. I lifted myself up again until only his tip was inside and quickly let myself drop back down onhim. He dropped his head back and groaned. My heart soaring at his reaction, I did it again, faster and harder.
“Juls, so fucking good.” He pulled off my shirt and palmed my breasts with his strong, callused hands.
I looked down as I moved on top of him, loving the sight of his large hands on me. “Harder,” I moaned. He kneaded and squeezed. Oh God, I loved this position, I loved the way he touched me. The way he looked at me. Reacted to me.
I rolled my hips in a circle and cried out at the feeling. I felt him everywhere. He was kissing and caressing me, and I was so filled with him.
Shit. I lost the rhythm. I moaned in frustration, trying to move faster, but it wasn’t as good as before.
“I got you, baby,” Dylan said, gripping my hips and moving me on top of him.
“Yes!” I cried out. “More!”
Dylan moved me harder and faster, up and down, forward and back, over and over again until I was shaking and crying out his name, and then he yanked me down, slamming into me, and held me in place as we flew over the edge together.
I lay against his chest, boneless, panting.