Page 75 of The Score

Chapter 25

Bear

Present Time

It's only been a few days since our wedding. We're in an old church in England, of all places. It's attached to an old college, which according to my assistant, made it easier to schedule. On the other hand, it made the organist's trip and booking harder to coordinate, but that's okay. Pen seems to be loving every second of it. So much so, a few happy tears make it down her face.

Awe expands in my chest. A sense of pride that, if there were prizes for planning a honeymoon, I would at least get to stand in the winner’s circle.

A private pipe organ concert was one of the hardest items on her bucket list to coordinate, but I'm glad to be making it happen. And I'm thankful. If we get to enjoy it this much today, it's because we were able to return to being ourselves, after those moments— all the ways I struggled— during our wedding night. Even now, at my first big surprise, I revel in the fact that she's right back to living life fully with me by her side.

The feeling in my chest swells, just like the music making the building sing. The sound gets more intense somehow. The walls and the stones at our feet vibrate, and the air itself seems to buzz around us. Pen's hand holds on to the pew in front of us until her knuckles are white, and suddenly I can't take it.

I pull from her arm until she gives me her hand. "Take it out on me instead."

It's a wonder that she heard me, but she must have, because she squeezes my hand. I run a thumb side to side on her skin. With my free hand, I reach and dry her tears.

She watches me with teary eyes. "Can't believe you pulled this off."

I smirk and kiss her temple. She closes her eyes again, taking in every note. Like a whole orchestra is here, but it's only one huge instrument, playing just for us.

This. Simple moments where it's just us, no one to watch us and wonder, or question if it's true we're not in love. It's how our friendship took roots over the years, until everything it is today.

I promised her I'd help her cross off the items on her bucket list. I'm a man of my word. That means turning this honeymoon into a dream trip. It also involves keeping myself in check in moments like this, and giving a hard look at all the ways in which I'm showing her affection.

A caress? Good.

Kissing her cheek? Risky, these days, but not with a lack of precedent.

Kissing on the lips? Forbidden.

Yet I have the impulse. Right now.

Ugh. It's been two years since I've craved kisses that lead to more. The feeling has been there, of course, but never this badly. I could just jerk off and deal with it, waiting for the right person to show up.

An amazing kiss, a tormented evening, and an unexpected morning after, and things have changed. Now I can barely silence the voice reminding me I've had dreams that start just like this. Where simple kisses on a special day lead totouch, to getting lost in someone else's body, to forgetting oneself into pleasure. But this isn't my reality.

I need to find a way to deal with all of this.

Eventually, our private, one-hour concert ends. Pen never lets go of my hand and pulls me with her to thank the organist. I watch her squee and fangirl with an amused— tender— slant to my mouth. It's Pen's favorite organ player, after all. The blonde prodigy smiles just as much as Pen, and soon they're holding hands and fawning over each other in a delighted high pitch. I take their picture, record a short little video to send back to Pen's parents, and say goodbye to the organist ten times.

It will make the Duartes happy to see Pen ecstatic. That will help balance the stress of all the testing and waiting they're going through right now. Just like I planned.

"A million out of ten, Bear. Amillion!" Pen exclaims over and over as we walk out of the church.

"Another bucket list item completed."

Another dangerous moment averted.

I should start a counter.Days since I was last tempted to kiss Pen again for no reason whatsoever? Zero.

Damn. It's zero.

"You're the best man in the galaxy," she adds. "This is the best honeymoon in the history of humanity."

I chuckle. "Glad you enjoyed it."

I don't know if she'd still think that way, if she knew how our kisses haunt me. That I wake up still feeling her lips on mine, and with blue balls so epic they may need medical attention. At this point, a pulsing, deep bass of a need has taken hold of the space behind my breastbone. Six days after we got married, I can't shake it loose.