Page 128 of End Game

Grinning, I stand and circle the bed until I’m standing in front of her. She scrambles up onto her knees. She threads her arms around my neck.

“I really like you,” she whispers again.

“Good.”

And then I kiss her. It’s our first kiss, so I want it to be—

It’s slow and unhurried. Light, gentle kisses, as we learn each other all over again. I cup the back of her head, my fingers tangling in her wild mess of waves, and she sighs, leaning into me. She opens her mouth for me, and as much as I want to devour her, as much as I want to explore, I know now isn’t the time. She tastes like honey and sweetness and a little bit sour from morning breath. She’s perfect.

She’s absolutely perfect.

It’s like a puzzle piece inside of me is sliding into place, making my heart whole once more. I don’t know how long I’ve been going around with a piece of me missing. She’s had it all this time; she’s been the answer all along.

My life isn’t magically going to be better because we’re dating now. I won’t be a better, more complete person because I have a girlfriend. What I’m going to have is a friend, a partner, an equal. She’s the person that makes my world make sense. She always has been. Whether we’re friends or more, and I sincerely hope we stay more, she’s always been my favorite person in the world.

That’s not to say she’s perfect. She’s not. I’m not. But we can still be good for one another, perfect for one another, even with all of our perfect imperfections.

Her hands start to roam, moving over my shoulders and down my arms, touching, exploring. I catch her hand before it can move too far south.

“We don’t have time,” I tell her, and then I steal another kiss. She pouts against my lips.

“We have plenty of time.”

“Not if we want to do this properly. We need to go on a date first.”

Diana laughs. “Haven’t we already been dating for the last fourteen years?”

“Tonight. We’ll go to dinner, just the two of us. We can go to that French restaurant in town, order wine and sit in the candlelight and just be with one another,” I suggest.

“You’ve put thought into this.”

Not really.

“If we could have the perfect first date…”

She looks up at me, chewing her lip.

“I would take you to the Emerald Necklace, and we would tour through Boston and see all of the sights,” I start. “Stop for lunch in Chinatown, then window shop on Boylston Street, and if you saw something you liked, I would get it for you—not to show off how much money I have, but because I want to shower you with presents pretty much all the time. We would go to a sports game, either baseball or football or hockey or basketball depending on the season, and afterwards go for ice cream at this place in Cambridge. Then we would work our way home, wherever home is, and I would have a second dessert.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Oh?”

“I would spread your legs and feast on your pussy, and I would show you just how much you mean to me. Once you come, we would cuddle until you fell asleep with your head on my chest, and—”

“You wouldn’t get yours?”

I shake my head. “Not on our first date. On our second, yeah, it’s fair game, but that first date is about showing you how much you mean to me.”

Diana covers my heart with her hand. “You already have.”

After class, practice, and the general commotion of the day is over, I shower and shave and head over to the soccer house to intercept Diana. She had a meeting with her advisor today, working out her schedule for next semester, so I know she’s super stressed and in need of a nice night out.

The door is opened by one of the minions. I’m not sure her name—she’s never actually been introduced to me, and I don’t actually care all that much. I’m glad she and Diana are on slightly better terms now, but she’s still a shapeless, nameless non-entity to me.

“Is Diana here?”

She rolls her eyes. “She’ll be down in a minute.” And then she shuts the door in my face.

Okay, then. I guess some relationships haven’t been miraculously repaired overnight.