I pull out of her and watch as my thick cum drips out of her. She looks so beautiful like this, her body and soul in complete surrender.

She belongs with me. She’d better know that by now. If she doesn’t, I’ll drive that into her head again and again, as many times as it takes.

I pull her up until she’s sitting on the edge of the countertop, her body limp in my arms.

“Answer me when I call you, okay?” I ask.

Sophia nods as her lips curl up into a smile. There’s a sadness in her eyes, and as much as I wish I could fuck that thing out of her, it hasn’t worked.

“Princess, is there anything you want to tell me?”

She shakes her head.

I wish I could believe her. I wish there was a way to get her to tell me what’s wrong because something obviously is.

But maybe this is enough for one day. Maybe I shouldn’t push my luck. Most importantly, I probably shouldn’t force her past her limit.

“Okay,” I say. “But if there’s anything you want to tell me . . . any time at all . . . please do. I’ll hear you out.”

“Okay.” Sophia blinks, and the cloud over her green eyes goes away, just like that.

She’s hiding. I don’t like the fact that she feels the need to do that.

But I should take this slow. I need to be careful.

She acts like nothing can break her, but she probably cries when nobody’s looking. She doesn’t like anyone knowing she’s just as fragile as everybody else.

I’ll get the truth out of her. But, it doesn’t have to be today.

* * *

“How’s your hangover?” I stroke Sophia’s long, fiery-red hair.

She turns to look at me, the blue glow cast by the TV screen making her appear as pale as a ghost. A pretty ghost I wouldn’t mind haunting me.

It’s getting dark and cold outside, but it’s nice and warm in here.

We’ve been sitting on the couch, watching some stupid rom-com. Sophia had seemed so sick when I got here; I thought it would be a good idea to take it easy.

But she looks as if she has just remembered about the hangover. She says, “It’s . . . gone.”

“I told you I had a great hangover cure.”

“That disgusting drink?” Sophia makes a face, scrunching up her nose in an unbelievably adorable way.

I laugh as I sling my arm around her shoulders and squeeze her close. “It was either that drink or the sex.”

“So when you said that you’d given your hangover cure to hundreds of people . . .” Sophia raises an eyebrow and gives me a look.

“I meant the drink,” I say. “Although, if you hate the drink that much, we could conduct experiments on how effective my cum is at curing your next hangover.”

Sophia giggles. “But, if it turns out that your cum is a better hangover cure, I’d feel pretty selfish about keeping it to myself. We’d have to bottle it up and sell it.”

“I’m cool with that, as long as you’re the one who . . . harvests it.”

Again, Sophia wrinkles her nose in disgust.

“Hey, you’re the one who came up with the idea,” I say, laughing.

We both turn to look at the door as it creaks open. Sophia’s parents enter and turn on the lights.

“Hi, Mr. and Mrs. York,” I greet them.

It takes them a few moments of awkward blinking and staring to recognize me.

“Oh, hi, Elijah. How are you doing?” Mrs. York asks.

“Never been better,” I answer honestly. “How’s business? The weather’s horrible, so hot coffee should be selling better than hot cakes.”

Sophia’s parents laugh as they take off their coats and place their stuff on the long entry table by the door. Ah, corny jokes. Older people love them.

“I’ll have to write that one down,” Mr. York says. “But to answer your question, yes, business is really good.”

Mrs. York stops behind the couch we’re sitting on and presses her palm against Sophia’s forehead. “You look like you’re feeling better, honey.”

“Yeah,” Sophia answers.

“That’s great. I was worried you were going to catch a cold or something,” Mrs. York says. “Alright, we’re going upstairs to change. We have a dinner thing with the Smiths.”

“Do you want us to turn the lights back off?” Mr. York asks.

“Yeah. Thanks, Dad,” Sophia says.

As I watch Sophia’s parents walk up the stairs, I imagine us as a family. We’d spend birthdays and holidays together. They’d laugh as they play with our kids.

“What?” Sophia asks when she notices the dumb smile on my face.

“Nothing.”

She obviously doesn’t buy it but turns her attention back to the TV anyway while my mind conjures up images of our future together.

It’s strangely easy to come up with fantasies of a family life with Sophia, with the pitter-patter of little feet running all over the place.

Nicole would be the big sister, bossing the other kids around. Technically, she’d be their cousin, but they’d probably feel more like siblings.

When Sophia’s parents leave us alone in the house again, I lean closer toward her and stare at her, probably with another dumb smile on my face.

“What?” she asks, looking self-conscious.

“I want you to meet Nicole, my niece.”

Sophia falls silent. She studies my facial expression, doubt and anxiety written all over her beautiful features. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” I answer quickly.

“It isn’t too soon?”

“Why would it be too soon?” I ask. “Sophia, I’ve been in love with you for seven years. Seven. Damn. Years. ”

She bites her bottom lip. “I . . . I don’t know. I’ve never . . . I’ve never dated anyone with a kid before. I don’t . . . I’m nervous about getting her involved.”

“It doesn’t have to be a big deal,” I gaze into her eyes.

I’m lying, of course.

It is a big deal. How can it not be?

Nicole’s a huge part of my life, and Sophia is, too. I don’t want to have to keep them separate.

Sophia’s gaze flickers. “What if . . . I don’t know. What if this doesn’t work out?” she asks softly.

“What doesn’t work out?” I ask, exasperated.

“This. Us.”

“Sophia, this will work out. I promise you. I told you, I’m not going to lose you for a second time.”

“I know that,” she says. “But what if there’s something . . . something unexpected? What if something were to happen to make everything fall apart?”

“I’m not going to let anything like that happen,” I say with finality.

“But—”

“Tell me what it is that’s worrying you. What’s so important that it could tear us apart?” I ask.

Sophia clams up.

“I know something’s bothering you. Please tell me what it is,” I plead.

“Nothing,” she insists. “I’m just . . . I don’t know. It’s been . . . Everything’s happening so quickly. What if it’s just the drama? What if it’s just the sex?”

I pull her into my arms. “Princess, please don’t be scared. I know it’s . . .

“I know how you feel, okay? I’m scared, too. I’ve never felt this way about anyone else. Hell, for the past seven years, I’ve never felt anything about anybody at all. It has just been you this whole time.

“And now that this is happening for real, I’m terrified that something will go wrong, too. But that’s only because I want it to go right so badly. It’s fucking scary, I know.

“But we’ll get through this together, okay? I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

Sophia tilts her head up to look at me, her eyes glassy with tears, reflecting the colors from the TV screen.

“I want to grow old with you, princess. I’ll do everything in my power to make that happen.”

Tears roll down her cheeks. She seems to cry a lot lately. I have no idea if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

“You trust me, don’t you?” I ask as I wipe away her tears.

Sophia nods.

“Good. Let’s meet Nicole later this week, okay? We can do something totally low-key.” Looking around the room, I add, “We can watch a movie. That’s easy, right? Casual. We can make popcorn together beforehand. Does that sound like fun?”

“Yeah,” Sophia says, her lips curling up into a small smile.

“Great. It’s a date.”