Page 74 of All Your Dreams

His shoulders drop a fraction. “Good.”

I set the flowers on the side table, hyper-aware of the fact that we’re standing closer than we normally do without the baby. “I wasn’t expecting you to actually leave work for me,” I say.

“I might’ve left Boone in charge.”

“Bold choice.”

His gaze softens again. “There isn’t anywhere else I’d rather be right now. C’mere.”

I cross the small distance between us in two steps that feel enormous. My hands hover awkwardly, unsure where they belong now that everything between us has shifted. Then I settle them against his sides, my fingertips brushing the cotton of his T-shirt. Being this close reminds me of every fantasy I tried not to indulge. The real thing is better than every one of them.

Ollie cups my face with both hands and presses his forehead to mine. “Congratulations,” he whispers, his breath mingling with mine in the sliver of space between us.

I can’t bring myself to answer. No combination of words could ever describe how thankful I am for him and his existence in my life. What he has become to me. So I don’t try. We stay like that, breathing the same air. His calloused palms cradle my cheeks with impossible gentleness, the slight tremor running through his hands.

He’s not the only one who’s shaking. Days of almosts and near-misses hum beneath my skin, waiting for one of us to close the distance.

“You okay?” he asks, our mouths only an inch apart.

“Yes.”

“Sure?”

“Yes,” I repeat, steadier now.

His eyes search mine, patient as ever. “Tell me what's going on in that head of yours.”

“I’m relieved. God, so relieved. I spent so long trying to become someone Nathan would finally choose. Someone less...me.” Ollie’s jaw tightens and his eyes close, like hearing those words physically hurts him. “Today feels like proof that I don't have to keep trying anymore. I can stop mourning a marriage that never became what I hoped it would. I fought as hard as I could. Harder than I should have.”

“You don't ever have to earn the right to be loved. Remember that.”

“I think I'm finally starting to believe it.” I whisper, my voice wavering. “A little more every day. I wish healing didn't look like this. I'm tired of carrying the past into every good thing that happens to me.”

He brushes a tear from beneath my eye with the pad of his thumb. “But you're here. You're choosing yourself. That's what I see.”

“You’re right. I’m no longer tied to anything that hurts me. I’m finally free to do whatever I want.”

The thought settles deep in my chest. For so long, every choice I made revolved around holding together something that was broken long before I realized I couldn’t fix it. Not anymore. For the first time in years, the future isn’t something to survive. It’s mine to shape. And standing in front of me is the man who’s been teaching me what safety, patience and kindness look like.

I don't need another second to consider the next move. I know exactly what I want. My eyes wander to his mouth, lingering there before lifting back to his. Slowly, I lean in, giving him every opportunity to pull away. He doesn't and I close the last inch between us.

Our lips finally meet in the gentlest brush, so soft I almost wonder if I imagined it. Then Ollie kisses me back and the rest of the world falls away. Everything that brought us here collapses into this long-awaited moment. It isn't just our first kiss. It's the answer to every silent question we've been asking each other all month.

My fingers curl into his shirt, wanting him as close as possible. Ollie’s moan is neither polite nor controlled as he deepens the kiss like he’s been starving and my lips are the only thing keeping him sated. I press into him, my whole body lighting up.

A hand slides to my side, his thumb brushing the bare skin at my hip. I swear my brain short-circuits with the simple touch. “Ollie,” I breathe and it comes out sounding like a plea.

He breaks the kiss to whisper, “Tell me to stop anytime if that’s what you need.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” I reply breathlessly.

His mouth finds mine again and this time there’s no hesitation or testing the waters. He walks me backwards until my shoulders meet the wall with a thud. The sound disappears beneath the desperation of our kiss, weeks of restrained longing finally given permission to exist.

Our mouths are hungry against each other as I lift one leg around his waist. My palms slide up his chest and over his shoulders until my fingers disappear into his hair. When I gently tug, a low groan rumbles from his throat, the intoxicating sound vibrating between us. A rush of heat unfurls low in my stomach as his hardened length presses against my belly. The realization of how much our connection is affecting him is as intoxicating as the kiss itself. My other hand travels south, toying with his belt, eager to touch him everywhere.

A sharp knock echoes through the apartment, shattering the moment. Ollie goes completely still and I let out a breath that's half laugh, half agony.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” he groans, his eyes squeezing shut as another knock rattles the door.