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Playing by Crystal Kaswell (42)

Epilogue

Walker

Iris scoops sugar into her coffee. One spoonful. Two. Three.

Four.

This is getting ridiculous. "You're gonna get a cavity."

"We're celebrating." She fills the last quarter of her mug with milk then looks to Mom. "Thanks for making coffee."

Mom laughs. "Is it still coffee like that?"

"It's perfect." Iris offers me the mug. "Taste it."

I shake my head.

"Afraid it will blow your mind?" Her voice lifts to a teasing tone.

"You can bait me better than that." I stare back into her blue eyes. I still get lost in them. I still want to swim in them.

She lowers her voice to a whisper. "I can. But you can't handle it." She spreads her legs and pulls her skirt up her thighs.

She's wrong—I can handle it. I can get her panting, begging me to fuck her. I should torture her to prove it.

I would. If we were anywhere else. My parents have been through enough of their children horrifying them.

We've been coming to Sunday night dinners for months now. We're usually polite at the dinner table, but before and after

Mom clears her throat.

Dad chuckles. "They're young and in love. We were worse."

Mom nods true. "Have you discussed marriage?"

"Mom!" Fuck, I know Mom adores Iris, but this is getting ridiculous. She drops hints about marriage nearly every Sunday.

Half of me wants to demand she stop. The other half is too enamored with the way the questions make Iris's cheeks flush and her eyes get dreamy. She thinks about it, about us being forever.

I think about it too. I can see it. The two of us on the beach, under an altar decked with purple flowers, proclaiming our love to the entire world.

Yeah, I think a lot about stripping her out of a tight, low-cut dress (hey, it's my fantasy), pinning her to the wall, and having my way with her.

But I think about the rest of it too. Calling her my wife. Seeing my ring on her finger every morning. Waking up and falling asleep next to her.

We're not ready for that—she's made it very clear she's waiting until she's done with school—but we'll be there. One day.

And after tonight

"Baby?" Iris runs her fingers over my chin.

"You look gorgeous today. I say that yet?" I ask.

"A thousand times," Bree says. "But it's cute." She turns to Mom. "Aren't they adorable?"

Mom makes the hmmm noise. "Yes. But we're having dessert. Not dessert."

Dad chuckles.

Bree giggles through her words. "Oh my God, Mom. Did you just make a sex joke?"

Mom smiles maybe I did, maybe I didn't, then she's back to her usual all business poker face. "Your generation didn't discover sex."

Bree laughs.

I laugh too. "Feels like it sometimes."

Iris blushes. "I'm sorry, Jen."

Mom beams at Iris calling her by her first name. "It is sweet. But not at the dinner table."

Iris mouths sorry.

Dad chuckles. "Remember that weekend at your parents' place."

Mom turns to him. Her cheeks flush. She leans in to whisper.

Gross. My parents are talking about sex.

She regains her composure. "This is excellent coffee, Walker. Thanks for bringing it over."

"Sure thing," I say.

"Try it the right way." Iris offers her mug again. She raises a brow you okay?

I nod as I accept the cup. My plan for tonight is perfect. But it's getting closer. It's right after we leave. And, fuck, I'm not used to being this nervous.

I sip Iris's coffee. "This is sweeter than the pie." I hand it back.

Her smile spreads over her cheeks. "That's the point."

"Is it?" I ask.

She nods. "Dessert—" she nods to her slice of pumpkin pie, then to her mug—" then more dessert."

Bree laughs. "She's making a lot of sense."

"You always think she's making sense," I say.

"What can I say? Your girlfriend is a smart woman," Bree says.

Iris nods uh-uh. She isn't paying attention to our conversation. Her gaze is on her cell.

That look can only mean one thing.

Lily replied.

Iris tries to pretend like she's okay waiting until her sister is ready to make up. I guess she is okay waiting. It's not like she has a choice.

But I can tell it wears on her.

She ceded the holiday to her sister, because she didn't trust her parents to be honest about whether or not she'd be at dinner.

She spent an hour composing a Happy Thanksgiving text this morning. She's been checking her phone, waiting for a response, all day.

I squeeze her hand. Lean in to whisper. "You okay?"

She nods. "I just need some air." She pulls back. Looks to my family. "Excuse me. Thank you so much for dinner. It was lovely." She grabs her purse and moves to the kitchen, then toward the back door.

Mom, Dad, and Bree shoot me the same look. Are you going to leave her alone with that?

They adore Iris. After everything with Bree, I thought Mom would freak about Iris's past, but she didn't. She only loves her more for it. She's always going on about how proud of Iris she is. About how lucky I am to have such a strong girlfriend.

And, yeah, about how lucky I’d be if Iris was my wife.

I agree.

And I will marry her. One day.

But this, just being with her, is amazing. I want more—I always want more of her—but I can wait until she's ready.

"Thanks for dinner." I push myself up. "I love you."

Everyone says it back.

I move into the kitchen, through the sliding glass door, to the backyard.

Iris is sitting on the edge of the pool, shoes next to her, feet in the water. She turns toward me. Wipes a tear from her eyes.

Fuck. It's bad.

I move closer. "You want me here or you want to be alone?"

She looks up at me. "No. Walker. It's… It's okay."

"Yeah?" I drop to my knees next to her.

She nods as she shows off the display.

Lily: Happy Thanksgiving to you too. See you at Christmas?

Every bit of tension in my body melts. I forget about what I'm doing after this. I forget about every awful thing that's ever happened.

"She forgives me." A tear rolls down her cheek. "Well. Maybe not yet. But enough to talk to me."

I wrap my arms around her.

She leans into my touch. "I never thought she'd forgive me."

"I know."

"I never thought you'd forgive me."

"Me either."

"But you did." She presses her forehead to mine. "And you… You're here."

"Always."

Her fingers dig into my t-shirt, pressing the cotton into my skin. "You promise?"

"Yeah."

"What if I start using again?"

"You won't."

"But what if I do?"

"Sweetness, you know I hate thinking about this."

"I know…" But you have to. It could happen. We have to be realistic.

"I'll make sure you get help." I brush her hair behind her ear.

Iris slipping is my worst nightmare.

At first, it was a plague on my thoughts, this constant fear she'd start getting high again. That I'd be the one to push her into using with some stupid fight.

I still wake up terrified some days. I still have moments where my head goes to dark places because she's too quiet. Or home late. Or evasive. Or moody.

I'll never get over it. Not completely.

But it gets easier every day.

The fear fades quickly now. I trust her.

I know it takes more than that. I know there are going to be times where it's harder or easier.

But, whatever happens, I want to be there to hold her up.

To ease her burden.

To watch her dreams come true.

"You want to talk about it, sweetness?"

"Later." She presses her lips to mine.

She tastes good, like sugar and coffee.

Like she's everything I want.

She pulls back with a sigh. "Can we go home? I need… I need things to make sense."

"Yeah." That is a brilliant idea. But—"I have a stop planned."

"Something good?"

"Yeah."

"What?"

"You trust me?"

"Yeah, but"

"You trust me or not?"

"Of course."

"Then let me surprise you."

She stares into my eyes. Slowly, she nods.

I offer her my hand.

She takes it and I pull her to her feet. I pick up her shoes, then scoop her into my arms and carry her into the kitchen.

She laughs. "Show off."

But she still slides her arms around my neck.

She still sighs as she rests her head on my chest.

* * *

I find a spot on the street, in between a Tesla and a Prius. It's so Santa Monica it hurts.

All right, being sandwiched by an electric car and a hybrid isn't all that entertaining. It's more my desperate need for a distraction.

I turn the car off, pull my keys from the ignition, force my voice to an easy tone. "After you."

Iris stares into my eyes. "After me?"

"All right. After me." I undo my seatbelt, step outside, close the door. The cold air wakes me up. Even after twenty-five years in Southern California, I forget how much the temperature drops at night.

I'm freezing. But there's no way I'm reaching for my leather jacket in the backseat.

If I look Iris in the eyes again

I take a deep breath. Exhale slowly. Slide my hands into my front pockets. This is the logical next step.

But, fuck, what if she says no?

What if I'm reading her all wrong?

I let nerves settle in my gut. I'm doing this tonight. No matter what.

Iris steps out of the car. Hugs her purse to her shoulder. "You're shivering." She holds up my jacket.

"You are too."

She shakes her head, despite the obvious goose bumps on her arms.

I nod you are then move around the car and pull her closer.

She nestles into my chest. "Not anymore."

"Me either."

She slides a hand under my t-shirt, presses her palm against my stomach. "Walker, what is this?"

"A surprise."

"But you…" She looks to the apartment building to our right. It's two stories, ten units, with a pool in the center. "Okay."

"Put on the jacket."

"You put it on."

"I'm more stubborn than you are."

"Want to bet?"

"Yeah. If I win, I get to make you come."

"If you lose?"

"I don't really care. I'm gonna make you come either way."

She looks up at me as she intertwines her fingers with mine. "This sounds win-win."

"What the fuck are we talking about?"

Her smile spreads over her cheeks. "I don't remember."

"Me either." I lead her to the complex's gate, punch in the code, open the door for her.

She folds the jacket over her arm as she steps inside.

The pool glows against the dark sky. It casts wavy lines over the planters of succulents and the white wrought iron gate.

It's suburban paradise.

In the middle of Santa Monica.

Yeah, it's a little farther from the beach. But it's a hell of a lot bigger. And it's not that much more expensive than my place.

It's not cheap—not by a long shot—but it's well within our budget. If she wants it to be our budget.

If she wants it to be our place.

I have to hold onto the railing as I climb the stairs. It's like my soles aren't making contact with the ground. I'm floating. Or maybe I'm spinning. One of the two. Or both.

It's only a dozen steps to the door. I kneel, punch the code into the lockbox, pull out the key.

"Walker…" Iris taps her heels together. "Is this"

"Still a surprise." Nerves creep into my voice. It isn't like me. But then the last six months haven't been like me either. I never thought I'd let anyone this close. I never thought I'd fall in love. I sure as hell never thought I'd ever be desperate to live with a woman.

But it's the only thing missing from my life.

I rise, unlock the door, push it open. "After you, sweetness."

"Walker…" Her eyes meet mine. "Is this… Are you… Do you…"

"Yeah."

"Yeah?"

I nod.

Her tongue slides over her lips. "Really?"

"I'm trying to do this a certain way."

"What way is that?"

"The way that gets a yes." I press the door wider. "After you."

"Okay." She steps onto the hardwood.

I follow. The main room is about the size of mine. There's space for the TV and a couch in the nook on the right. The kitchen is on the left. It's tiny, the way all Southern California kitchens are, but it's ours.

Well, almost.

"It's more expensive than my place. But a lot cheaper than both of us paying rent for our own apartments." I take her hand and lead her to the bedroom. Right now it's an empty room with a mirrored closet, an attached bathroom, and a window that looks out on the ocean. But it will be our bedroom.

Iris's eyes go wide as she stares out the window. "Is that really the view?"

"Yeah."

"It's beautiful."

"The other room is too." I squeeze her hand as I lead her across the hallway. "I figured it could be our office. Mostly yours. Or all yours. If that's what you need."

"All mine?"

"Yeah."

"I've never had my own office."

My eyes stay glued to her. "I'm more than happy to share my tiny apartment with you. But I figured you need space to do work."

"I do."

"It's ridiculous. You should live in my bed."

"You mean our bed?"

Every part of me goes warm at once. "Yeah. Our bed."

She turns to me. "Can we really afford it?"

"Yeah." We is my new favorite word. Or maybe our. Or maybe Iris. No, that's been my favorite word forever now. "I know you're busy with school until the quarter ends. I'll take care of everything. All you need to do is say yes."

"But we have to apply"

"Done."

"And my lease. It's not up until July"

"Done."

"But how?"

"Does it matter?"

She wraps her arms around my waist. "No. I just… I want to be sure."

"I'll text the landlord now. We can move in December first."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." I brush her hair behind her ear. "It's ours. All you have to do is say yes."

"Yes. Of course." She rises to her tiptoes.

I lean down. Our kiss starts soft. Then it's harder. Her lips part to make way for my tongue. Her moans vibrate down my throat. Her fingers dig into my t-shirt.

"We need to christen it."

"It's not ours yet."

I pull out my cell, find the landlords number, shoot him a we want it text. "Now it is."

"But what if someone else offers more?"

"They won't. Trust me. It's ours."

"But"

"I'll clean up after." I set my cell on the windowsill. "Unless you don't want me to pin you to that wall."

She shakes her head.

"You don't want to come on my cock?"

"Don't even—" She tugs at my t-shirt.

I move forward.

She steps backward.

We dance like that until her ass hits the wall.

She looks up at me, her smile spreads over her cheeks, her eyes hazy with desire. "Okay."

"Okay?"

She nods. "We should christen it."

I push her skirt up her thighs. "Sweetness, I need a lot more than okay." My fingertips brush her skin. Just above her knee. Then higher. Higher.

"Walker…"

"Better."

"Don't tease. Please. I…" She rocks her hips as she looks up at me. "I need you. I need this."

"I need you too." I press my palm against her, over her panties. "I need you so fucking badly."

Her response is a groan.

I rub her over her panties.

"Walker…" She tugs at my t-shirt. Pulls my body into hers.

I pin her with my hips. I grind against her until she's groaning into my mouth.

She pulls my t-shirt over my head.

I suck on her bottom lip. Drag my hand up her thigh. Tug her panties to her knees.

She kicks them off her feet. Breaks our kiss to stare into my eyes. "Fuck me."

My fingers brush her cunt. "Not yet."

"Now."

My cock whines to be inside her. But not yet. Not until she's ready.

I tease her with one finger.

She digs her hands into my hair.

Two.

She pulls me into a long, deep kiss. Her tongue slides around mine. Soft. Then harder.

I push my fingers deeper.

She rocks her hips to meet me.

Deeper.

Her nails dig into my shoulder. "Walker. Please." She nips at my neck. "Please."

Fuck, that sound is music.

That sound is the best thing I've ever heard.

No. Iris coming is the best thing I've ever heard. But this is a close second.

She reaches for my jeans. Undoes the button. The zipper.

I push them—and my boxers—off my hips.

She wraps her hand around my cock. Pumps me with a steady rhythm. "Mmm. Please." Her eyelids press together. "I need you inside me."

My balls tighten. Fuck, the way those words fall off her lips

"Legs around me." I sling my arms under her thighs, and pin her to the wall.

She stares up at me with every ounce of desire in the world.

My tip strains against her.

Then it's one delicious inch at a time.

"Fuck." My nails dig into her flesh.

Her hands knot in my hair.

She squeezes me tighter.

I pin her harder.

Kiss her deeper.

She holds my head against hers. She kisses me like she's claiming my mouth. She rocks her hips like she's claiming my body.

She doesn't have to. I'm already hers.

And she's already mine.

And now I'm going to wake up next to her every fucking day.

That's fucking everything.

With my next thrust, my last conscious thought slips away.

We stay locked like that, tongues dancing, limbs tangled, hips rocking together, until she's there.

She breaks our kiss to groan my name. She tugs at my hair as she pulses around me.

Fuck, that feels good.

A few more thrusts and I'm there. I groan her name into her neck. I pin her to the wall, thrusting through my orgasm, letting pleasure spill to every finger and toe.

I feel it everywhere. I feel her everywhere.

She sighs as her muscles go slack. "Fuck." She presses her lips to my neck. "I love you."

"I love you too."

Slowly, I untangle our bodies and set her on the ground.

She pulls on her panties.

I don my t-shirt. Return my jeans to their rightful place.

Well, I'd rather never wear these things. I'd rather live naked in our bed.

But there's too much shit I want to do. Too many places I want to see. Too many things I want to teach Iris.

I want the entire world for her.

I want to be by her side, for every single thing life throws at us.

* * *

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