Chapter Thirty-Eight
–Haley–
I come out of the shower to find Fletch in my bedroom, spinning in a slow circle, taking it in.
“You cleaned…” He’s still gawking at the spot where the magazines had been. “You really cleaned. This is pretty incredible.”
After the kitchen-scrubbing session, I moved on to my bedroom. Something I’ve needed to do for a while. “My parents are gonna flip when they get back.” I stare at Fletcher, looking oh-so-sexy in my bedroom. The shock of him showing up at the party hasn’t worn off yet, and I’m not sure how much I can throw at him in one night. But the truth spills out anyway. “I just kept thinking about you being in here, and how it’s so messy and I don’t have a clue what’s in this room, and what if you came over again and there were peanut crumbs hiding somewhere—”
The look he gives me is so intense, so welcoming, words get stuck in my throat. He crosses the room in two seconds flat, and then his hands are on my face. And then his mouth is on mine, and I’m in heaven. This is what I’ve been waiting for from him all along. This kiss. One with layers and layers of us and what we’re willing to do for each other.
The towel I’d wrapped my hair up in falls to the floor, startling both of us into coming up for air. Fletch takes another moment to look around at the tidy room. There’s actually nothing on my bed except blankets. That hasn’t happened in years, probably.
“Can’t believe you cleaned your room for me,” he says, practically under his breath.
My face heats up, but I brave the honest path. “There are a lot of things I would do for you. Cleaning my room is just one of them.”
As if to prove that my new habits are here to stay, I scoop the towel from the floor and hang it over my desk chair.
Fletcher shifts from one foot to the other, looking uncomfortable for the first time since his brother dropped us off here thirty minutes ago. “I guess it bothers me…some.”
“It’s too much?” Worry eats at my insides. I shouldn’t have told him why I cleaned it. He didn’t ask. “I mean, it isn’t like I meant to announce it to you or anything. You—or more like your situation—got me thinking about being clean as more than just a personal preference. It’s a safety issue. Andi is here sometimes, and she’s always getting these rashes—”
“Haley,” Fletch says, his voice and his eyes full of warmth. “It’s not too much at all. Not in that way. Just that I hate that you even have to think about these things. A month or two ago, it didn’t matter. And now it does. Because of me.”
Suddenly, a whole lot of things about Fletcher Scott make sense. The biggest item being his anti-relationship history. “That’s what bothers you? That it might be too much for someone you get close with? Too much for me?”
He releases a breath and then nods. “Maybe not at first, but eventually it’ll get old. Dealing with my shit. Never eating in restaurants, probably never here, either. All the handwashing and gargling with Listerine just so you can touch me.” He looks away, runs a finger over the quilt on my bed. “I know my family will do whatever they need to, but anyone else? It’s always seemed like too much to ask. So, I make a point not to put someone in a position of needing to change.”
His eyes meet mine again, steady and strong, a hint of challenge as if he still expects that I might bail. “Not that I sat down one day and made a big decision to avoid…” He gestures from me to him. “Whatever you want to call this. It was all mostly subconscious. This is probably the first time I’ve put it into words. Out loud.”
My first instinct is to say I’ll do anything and everything he needs me to do, but even I think that’s too heavy. And it won’t turn his doubt. Only time will do that. Time spent taking a big risk. “No one can make promises about how they’ll feel in the infinite future, not even me, and I love planning for the future. It isn’t too much right now. And I’m not easy to get rid of, either.”
Fletcher cracks a smile and returns to standing close to me. “You’re right. No one can promise that.” He touches my wet hair, sliding a lock from the side of my face. “And it doesn’t matter, anyway, because I’m definitely falling in love with you, and there are no brakes on this train. Even if I wanted to stop it, I couldn’t.”
My eyes burn and blur in front of me. I throw myself into kissing him before I start crying. There was so much honesty in his voice, in the actual words he said, it’s making my chest physically ache.
Fletch walks backward, his mouth still glued to mine, tugging me with him until he’s seated on my bed. My hands are all over him, untucking his shirt, lifting it over his head. He loosens the tie on my bathrobe and slowly, giving me time to protest, slips a hand inside. His fingers glide gently over my back. Then he breaks our kiss, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “Haley…about earlier tonight…at the club…”
I shift closer until Fletch lifts me off the floor and onto his lap. “If you’re going to tell me that you can’t take credit for any of that, save it. You get all the credit.”
He laughs, his breath tickling my neck. “I’ve learned my lesson regarding that topic.”
“Also…just so you know…” I tangle my fingers in the back of his hair and comb through it. “If that happens again, I don’t plan on running away this time.”
Fletch laughs. “If?”
I smile at that, at the confidence in his voice. Then I kiss him again. “Whatever happens, I don’t plan on running away.”
He cups my face in his hands. “Me, either.”
“Promise?”
“Promise,” he repeats with a nod.
And because Fletch has always offered me his most honest responses, I believe him.