Page 118 of Sex Positive

“Someone refused his money,” he replies, his eyes bright. “So I’m no longer obligated to cave to his demands.”

His words ignite a fire in her veins, spreading until it consumes her entire body. She looks down at their feet, fighting the sudden sting in her eyes, the ache of longing in her chest.

We could have had years.

But would it have changed anything?

From the time they first became friends three years ago, when he bounded into her life in the most unexpected way, it’s always been easy with him. He’s always seen her. She doesn’t want to hide any part of herself with him.

And when she pushed him away because of her fear and pride, she made them both miserable. Now she’s afraid her heart will explode if she has to sit alone with her feelings for one more second.

“I realized today that I never told you,” she says.

“Told me what?”

“I love you too.” His mouth parts in surprise, but she’s not finished. “I love you, and I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you. I should have told you right away, but you’re distracting in all the best ways. I’ve loved you for so long.”

He steps forward. “Rogers—”

She holds up a trembling hand. “I’m sorry I tried to push you away. I thought that was best for me, but you shouldn’t do that with someone you love, someone who believes in you, someone who knows you and sees you and makes you feel safe and gets you through your worst days. Someone who, against all odds, is always there for you even when you’re too blind and stubborn to see it.”

She gasps, somewhere between a laugh and a sob, and the people, the laughter, the expo fades away.

“I’m not sorry I refused your dad’s money even though it was your decision to bargain with him on my behalf. I just want you to have a choice of your own. I want you to get your master’s and do something you love. I want to make a mess in the kitchen with you and watch stupid reality television. I want you by my side when I conquer all the bureaucratic bullshit I’ll face with my sex education program. I want to be there on your best days and your worst days, when you can hardly function from the weight of your parents’ expectations. I want to make you feel good and argue with you and have so much sex with you and laugh with you. Because I—”

His green eyes pierce her, unwavering, entranced.

“Ilove you, Wesley Quinn,” she continues. “But I’m terrified because you were never in the plan, even though I know plans go awry no matter how hard I try and control them. I never feel like I need to be someone else with you, because you seeallof me. You challenge me and make me feel things I never imagined I could feel, and I can’t go back to pretending I don’t love you, that my life is better without you in it. It’salwaysbeen you, Wes.” She releases a shaky laugh. “I’ve always wanted it to be you and no one else.”

Her heart is in her throat, and a tear falls down her cheek before she can stop it.

Wes stares at her, unmoving, and she can’t breathe.

“You love me?” he whispers.

She chokes on a sob. “Yes.” Swiping the back of her hand across her cheek, she catches more tears. “I’m such a mess.”

He’s grinning now, and it’s her favorite, favorite, favorite expression of all.

“No you’re not.” He cups her face, pulling her flush with his chest. “You’re exceptional, Charlie Rogers.”

His mouth crashes into hers.

Stars erupt behind her eyes. All her worries and fears from the last several months vanish.

Burying his hands in her hair, Wes deepens their kiss. When he lifts her onto the table, she hears a crash, one of the boxes falling to the ground, but a hurricane could barrel through the expo right now and she wouldn’t notice. As he steps between her thighs, tugging her closer, his tongue sweeps into her mouth, and when she hears the moan in his throat, she wants to swallow him whole.

Light blooms inside her chest, a feeling of delirious happiness, of absolute rightness, burning through her.

He draws back, his lips hovering over hers. “Does this mean you’re ranking me higher than Stinky Feet Colin?”

She shakes with insuppressible laughter, clutching his shoulders, and his grin is the most beautiful sight. He leans in again, but just then a loudsquawkcomes from her walkie-talkie.

“Charlotte Rogers, do you read me?” Carolyn’s voice trills from the device. “Come in, Lead Program Director Charlotte Rogers.”

Realizing she’s practically climbing Wes in public atherevent with hundreds of people around them, she shoots him a sheepish smile before plucking the device from her hip. “Copy that, this is Charlotte Rogers.” She can’t even be bothered to berate Carolyn for using her full name, too deliriously happy to care.

“If you could kindly make your way over to the left entrance of the main stage, a reporter fromBuzzfeedwould like to interview you.”