First Came You (Fate #0.5) (13 page)

Closing her eyes and taking in a quiet breath, a sense of peace washes over my sister’s face. “Right.”

With the past few months of unruly and rebellious behavior behind us, a strange but pleasant calm consumes me.

I may not have Mom and Dad any longer, but I do have Gina and Tommy. A girl could do a lot worse than those two. I’m lucky to call them mine.

“Oh, God, Gabriella how I missed this. It seems like only yesterday, but also a lifetime since I touched you.” Tommy’s warm, sultry breath tickles my ear as he declares his love for me with words that make me tingle all over.

We lay in his bed, tangled in scattered clothes, panting and pawing.

“I’ve missed this too,” I admit, wishing I hadn’t been so foolish in walking away from this man.
The
man. The
only
man who means anything to me.

Caressing my back and bringing his hands down to cup my ass, Tommy growls, “Baby, you’re still the same—
my
Gabriella—but you’re different. The last two years have done some crazy things to your body.”

I blanch, hoping this dude isn’t talking about the ten extra pounds I gained eating my feelings. “Huh? What are you talking about?”

Kissing the tip of my nose, and then pulling back to appraise me, Tommy fills the tiny space between us with sensual words. “Baby, you’re no longer a girl. You’re a woman. A beautiful,”–kiss—“amazing,”–kiss—“sexy ass woman. And I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”

“Good thing there’s no limit on how much I’m willing to give.” Moaning, I sink into his sheets as his strong body presses against mine. His thick erection rubs along my bare thigh, making me needy for more.

“No limits? Really?” Even in the dark room I can make out the devilish smirk on his angelically, handsome face.

“Really. No holding back. Life’s way too short. I want it all—with you—forever.”

Tommy trails his soft fingertips across my aroused skin, over my rib cage, around my navel, down to the waistline of my panties. He hooks two fingers inside the delicate lace, and starts to slide them over my hips. “Let me give you all of me now, Gabby. Let me love you tonight the way I want to love you forever—buried inside you, connected in ways you’ve never been connected to anyone.”

He has a poetic way of telling me he wants to make love to me for the first time. I need him to know that not only am I ready for this, but that my virginity will belong to him. “This will be my first time. It belongs to you, Tommy. I waited because I knew.”

Even in all my wild nights and irresponsible hook ups I never lost sight of what I knew to be true. I loved Tommy and we were meant to be. Our separation was a blip on the radar, a momentary lapse of faith on my part. It was downright stupid. There was no doubt in my mind we’d wind up together in the end.

“Mine,” Tommy whispers. “You were always mine, but now you’ll be mine forever.”

I savor each touch, each kiss, each breath, and each and every thrust that make our bodies one. It’s the first time since losing my parents that I feel whole—feel
found
—again.

“Where in the world are you taking me, Thomas John Edwards?” I’ve been blindfolded and stuffed into his car, unaware of my surroundings for the last twenty five minutes or so. It’s all in good fun and I went willingly, but still . . .

“Must you always be in control? Can’t you just relax and trust me?”

He’s right and I do, but—“Yes, I need to be in control. It’s a pet peeve since they died. You know that.” Throwing that out there isn’t exactly fair, but it’s true. No matter how amazing things have been since Tommy and I rekindled and took things to the next level, I’m still recovering, or—for lack of a more professional terminology—learning to live in their absence. The grief counseling my sister and I have been attending at church helps a little, but the reason I feel sane again is all due to the person sitting beside me in the darkness of this car right now.

“Okay, fine,” I huff, giving in. “Will it be much longer?”

“Nope. Just another few turns and we’re there.” The excitement oozes from his voice and I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that it’s contagious. Wonderfully, organically, intoxicatingly contagious.

After half of an unfamiliar song from the radio, the car comes to a stop over a gravelly terrain and my mind snaps with the possibility of vivid images for our secret destination. It could be the beach where we spent many lazy days jumping waves and building sand castles, or the park where Tommy and I used to steal kisses behind the bocce ball court. Either would be nice to revisit. It’s been so long since we were innocent and worry-free, so I’m more anxious now to get this thing off my eyes and see where he’s taken me.

“Ready, baby?”

“Do I really have to answer that?” My fidgeting hands and my sledgehammer heartbeat should be enough to give me away.

The weight of the car shifts as Tommy exits, closes his door, and then makes his way around to open mine. When the warm air hits my face, I recognize the aroma of the sea and take in a deep breath, smiling. “The beach?” I ask, tilting my head for him to remove the blindfold.

“You’ll see,” he answers, bringing his hands up behind my head and untying the bandana.

When I think the soft material will fall freely and give my eyes access to everything I’m imagining, Tommy’s fingers tangle into my hair, pulling my face closer to his. Still unable to see, his lips caress mine with soft strokes until his tongue traces the seam of my mouth, bidding entrance. I don’t deny the man I love this tender moment. I trust him—blind or not. He would never lead me astray. I fall deeper into our kiss, wrapping my arms around his neck, almost forgetting that I’m still unaware of my surroundings. In his loving embrace, I couldn’t care less if we were in the dog food aisle of the supermarket.

“Want to see now?” he finally hums, breaking our lip contact and leaving me hungry for more.

I take in the moment—with one sense hindered the others are on high alert. Salt water and fresh summer air infiltrate my nose and lungs as I breathe them in with a deep, expanding sigh. City sounds of cars and sirens mixed with the natural beauty of birds chirping and waves lapping hypnotize me. Peace washes over me and tears brim my covered eyes. This moment is beautiful and I can’t even see it. It hasn’t even happened yet and I’m already in awe. “I’m ready now,” I finally whisper, prepared for Tommy’s surprise.

But when I open my eyes and Tommy steps back—nothing could have prepared me for this. “Oh my god, Tommy. Oh my god!”

There’s always been this tiny spot I loved—underneath the Verrazano Bridge in an open meadow. Close enough to the hustle and bustle of the world to remember you’re not alone, but secluded enough to enjoy the privacy of a picnic or a clandestine make-out session. Today—unlike all the other times we’ve come here—there’s a magical array of items decorating the open space. Tea light candles, flowers in varying colors and types, framed pictures from our past, and in the far right—on a cobblestone path—is a hopscotch board, drawn in chalk.

“How did you—What did you—?” I don’t even know where to start, but I run over to the hopscotch board first, needing to see it for myself. I look down at Tommy’s handwriting and bring my hands to my chest. Is it possible for your heart to smile with memories? I think so, because that has to be what mine is doing right now.

Each square is numbered from 1 to 12—two extra squares than a regular hopscotch board. I scratch my head in confusion before noticing that next to each number is a word or phrase. As I read Tommy’s writing, it comes to me that each saying accompanies a year—all the years we’ve known each other—and they are descriptions of what Tommy and I meant to each other in that particular year.

The first one is labeled “friend,” the second one, “brother,” the third one says, “tag-a-long” and that makes me giggle. Tears start to fall from my eyes as I continue our chalk journey, reading youthful descriptors like “tutor” and “man hunt buddy.” But bittersweet sobs wrack my body when I happen upon words like “hero,” “soul mate,” “heart,” “reason to get up in the morning,” “love of my life,” “reason I stay up worrying all night,” and finally on number twelve “fiancé.”

I stare at the last box, with my hands covering my mouth. The sun has started its slow descent in the sky, casting a gorgeous pinkish orange glow over the exquisite gift Tommy has prepared for me. My sniffles and sobs are far more prominent than the buzzing background noise of traffic, nature, and life. This is
our
moment. Nothing else matters. He created it this way for me.

“Say something, baby.” Tommy’s crying too, his arms reaching out for me.

I fall into his embrace and weep, still unable to speak. The tears start out as sad streams of loss—an emptiness only my parents can fill. But after the realization of what’s happening sinks in, the emotions pump new life into my veins and the tears become those of the joy I’ve pushed away for the past two years. “I love you so much. I cannot believe you did this all for me.”

“I love you too. You can’t even imagine how much.” He kisses the top of my head, hugging me closer to his strong, protective body. “I have something to ask you, baby,” he says, clearing his throat and becoming serious, rigid. The sudden shift in his demeanor cannot be attributed to nerves, because he’s so got this. He’s managed to give me all the feels with a heartfelt hopscotch board. I know what’s coming next and I cannot wait for the words to escape his lips.

Holding my hands in his, Tommy kneels down on one knee and gazes into my tear soaked eyes. The two of us are blubbering fools—all kinds of emotions are running rampant under the Verrazano Bridge tonight.

Swallowing back a lump, or nerves, or both, Tommy takes a second and tightens his grip on my shaking hands. “I have loved you for as long as I can remember. It started with a nickel and it’s going to end with so much more than that. We’ve been everything to each other even when we weren’t together, but now that we are, I can’t ever let you go again. Gabriella Rossi, I want to be your hero until the day I die, I want to make you smile even when you want to cry, I want to give you children that will share your beauty and drive us crazy, but most of all, I want to show you that life is good, even when it’s not. Please do me the honor of becoming my wife. Please fulfill my lifelong dream of being your one and only.”

I don’t know how my legs don’t give out. How have I not passed out? This moment—this amazing, spectacular moment—is the epitome of Tommy and me. I am his, he is mine, and together everything is right. Together we are whole, perfect, and empowering. I cannot and will not say no to this—never again. “Yes, baby. Yes, I’ll marry you. You’re the love of my life and I can’t imagine spending it with anyone other than the boy who became my hero over a rotten game of hopscotch.”

“Oh, Gabby. Thank you. I love you so much.” Standing, he pulls me against him again, rocking me from side to side. “This one’s a lot better than that one, huh?” he jokes, talking about the elaborate hopscotch game he invented.

“The best,” I admit, kissing him—hard, deep, long and with every atom and molecule of me that loves this man. “You don’t think we’re crazy for doing this so young, do you?” It’s sure to cross everyone’s mind that we’ve lost ours. “We’re both still in college. There’s plenty of time for this. We don’t have to rush, you know?” I’m not doubting the proposal, just putting it all out there as logically as I can while wrapped up in such irrational wonderment.

“Time is a fussy son of a bitch, Gabriella. We both know that. I don’t want to waste a single second
waiting
to do what’s been destined to happen, inevitable to be, from the start. You are
it
for me. It doesn’t have to be tomorrow, but I want you to be my wife soon. No rush, but no procrastination either, baby. There’s no time like the present, and I’m not taking it for granted.”

His wise declaration stings me with a harsh reality. Time is not on our side, no matter how old or young we are, because it’s not reliable and it’s not guaranteed. The indefinite nature of the way the world turns or when it ceases to exist is freaking profound, and if I think long and hard about it, I can work myself right up into a full on mental breakdown.