Page 18 of Only You

FOURTEEN

What was I thinking?

I can’t go on a date with Tatum.

This won’t end well. I don’t date. Anyone. I’ve made that very clear. I’ve set that rule in my life, and it’s worked really well.

But I want to go out on this date with Tatum. There’s no question about it. It’s been so easy to not date. To just hookup and then never think about these men ever again. But with Tatum?

As soon as he suggested a date, it was like butterflies were fluttering around in my entire body. Everything was tingly and hot. It’s all I wanted to do. I wanted to go on the date right then and there.

I knew I needed to tell him no, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t deny myself this chance, no matter how terrified I was.

I’ve had all these rules because I blamed myself for what happened with Ricky. I let him get too close to me, and I vowed not to do that again. But with Tatum, it’s different.

I know he’ll never hurt me. Tatum—the big, tattooed, crass, brazen man who most would be afraid of, but who I know has the biggest heart in the world. I know he’d never hurt an innocent human being.

I trust him.

It’s something that’s hard for me to believe because I trust no one, but I do trust him. Only him. It’s always been that way.

I don’t know how easy it’ll be for me to lower my defenses. Part of me wanted to crash my mouth against his when he asked me out on the date, and the other part of me wanted to run away again.

Because the feelings I have for Tatum run deep. I don’t think I’ll be able to keep the walls up much longer, and that scares me.

And it excites me.

“Principal Valentine.” The familiar voice rips me from my thoughts, and I lift my gaze toward the open door of my office.

“Raegan. Are you okay?”

She nods her head. “Can I talk to you for a moment?”

I motion for her to take a seat, and she walks into my office, removing her backpack from her shoulders and sitting in the chair in front of my desk. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I’m fine,” she says, her face lit up in a smile that doesn’t seem forced whatsoever. “I heard you have a date tonight.”

I relax, now that I understand why she’s here. “Shouldn’t you be in class?”

She shrugs. “I told my teacher where I was going. I have a pass.”

I smile, folding my hands together and placing them on my desk. “I do have a date. That’s true.” Her smile widens, and I realize how relaxed she looks for the first time since I met her. “I heard you met with Felicia this week.”

“I did.”

“How did that go?”

“Really well. I like her. Easy to talk to. Though she talks a little too much,” she says exaggeratedly.

“I’m glad you talked to her.”

“And I’m glad you gave Tatum a chance,” she counters.

“Me too,” I say honestly. “I can’t believe he told you though.” I’m not mad about it in the least. It’s not a secret, and it’s not like he’s a parent of one of my students. He’s a friend of a parent, but still, no real lines are being crossed.

She scoffs, rolling her eyes and waving a hand. “Please. He couldn’t wait to tell us all at dinner last night. The guy has it bad.”

There’s that warm, fluttery feeling again. I can’t hide my own excitement, and Raegan definitely notices.

“Gag,” she says, her eyes rolling around in her head again, but she’s smiling.

“I’m a little nervous,” I tell her honestly.

She goes deadly serious now, a kindness in her tone as her blue eyes lock on mine. “You can trust Tatum. He’ll never betray you.”

“I think that’s what I’m afraid of,” I say softly, doubt swirling inside me. I know he won’t hurt me, but what if I’m too damaged? What if I break him?

I’d never forgive myself.

She stands up and pulls her backpack onto her shoulders. “Give it a chance, Remy. I’ll keep going to meetings with the counselor, and you have your little dates with Tatum, and we’ll both be just fine.”

I smile at her, my fondness for the kid only increasing. I hear what she’s saying without having to say it and give her a nod before ushering her off and back to class.

We’ve got this.

When Tatum shows up at my house later that night, the nerves haven’t left me, and I’ve taken two showers already. Why? I don’t know. The nerves are a son of a bitch, and I just want to be completely ready for our date.

I’m dressed in a button-down shirt and slacks, looking hopelessly dorky, but he doesn’t seem to mind at all when I open the door, and his bright smile greets me. His eyes briefly sweep over my outfit and then back up to my face with a wide grin. “Hi.”

I take the moment to rake my eyes over him and try like hell not to drool.

I’m pretty sure that’s damn near impossible though.

He’s wearing jeans, but there are no tears in them.

They look new. And he has a black button-down on, though I’ve never seen him in anything other than a tight t-shirt, which I love.

But this is nice too. Especially because he has the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing off his inked, strong forearms.

His hair is tousled with gel, and I can feel the excitement radiating off him. “You ready to go?”

Go? Hell no . I want to stay here. I want to kiss another person for the first time in my life. I want to do so much more. My libido is ratcheted up so high, I think I might pass out.

“Remy?” I look up at Tatum. “Are you okay? Do you not want to do this? Because that’s okay. I can go change out of my date clothes and come back. We can watch baking shows and just be friends. I don’t ever want you to do something you don’t want to do.”

And I know he means it. He’d do that for me, even though it’s clear he’s excited about our date. He’d sacrifice his own happiness for mine in a heartbeat.

I straighten my shoulders and shake my head from one side to the other. “No. I want this. I want this so badly, I can barely even believe it’s real.”

“Yeah?” The way he lights up breaks my heart.

I step closer to him, taking his hands in mine and looking up into his beautiful eyes. “I want this, Tatum. I’m scared, but I want this.”

His big hands squeeze mine gently as he looks down at me. “Me too. I’m scared out of my mind, but I’ve never wanted anything more.”

“How is this happening?” I have to ask because it truly doesn’t feel real.

“I don’t know,” he says quietly, his throat working as he swallows and looks mystified. “But I’m glad it is. It feels like it was always supposed to happen like this.”

I smile and nod. “Let’s go on our date, Tatum.”

He nods, squeezing my hands again and then letting one go. Lacing the fingers of our other hands together and gently pulling me out the door. I have to release his hand to lock the door, but then immediately take it again and let him walk me to his truck. He opens the door, and I climb inside.

We drive downtown, but I’m not sure where we’re going. When he parks in front of a quaint little building, it doesn’t really look like a restaurant. “Where are we?” I ask in amusement.

“I thought it would be fun to take a baking class together.” He looks a little sheepish, looking through his windshield instead of over at me. “It’s a beginner’s class, so it’ll probably be way too easy for you, and it’s kind of silly...”

“Tatum, look at me,” I say, my heart feeling too big inside my chest. He does, but he looks reluctant. “That sounds amazing.”

“Are you sure?” He looks nervous. “We can just go to dinner.”

“No way. We have to show off your skills,” I say, my excitement only growing now as I open the truck door, and he follows.

We go inside, hand in hand, and go through making an apple pie together. Tatum takes it completely seriously, listening to the instructor for each step. I find myself just watching Tatum.

Little pieces of my heart fall away to him with each adorable question he asks, raising his hand politely each time. We bring the pie back to my place, and I cut slices for us while he gets a baking show ready in the living room for us to watch.

I hand him his plate, and he takes it, looking adoringly at the slice. “We did well.”

I settle in next to him and cut off a bite with my fork, slipping it into my mouth and groaning from the sweet flavor. “We make a good team.”

His eyes are glued to me. More specifically my mouth, and he doesn’t say anything. I can feel the intensity of his heated gaze as I lick my lips, savoring the sweet flavor but really wanting something else.

I put my plate down and then gently take his, placing it next to mine and then turning my body into him. “Tatum...”

His eyes drift closed, and he looks almost pained. “You don’t have to do anything you aren’t ready for yet, Remy. This date tonight...” His eyes slowly flutter open. “It was everything.”

I smile at him, one of my hands slowly sifting through his soft hair. I notice he leans into the touch, even though I’m not sure he knows he’s doing it. “I want more.”

His tongue peeks out to slide along his bottom lip, his eyes glued to my eyes. Fixated only on me. “Are you sure?”

I nod, my heart beating wildly in my chest. I never thought I’d kiss anyone. Ever. But now, I think maybe I was just waiting for this moment. It seems strange to have my first kiss in my late twenties, but I know there’s no one else on earth I want to kiss.

Who I would trust with this.

I leave one hand in his hair and then place my other one over his heart—feeling the rapid rhythm under my palm. “I’m nervous,” he says with an anxiety-filled chuckle. “I never thought about kissing this hard before. It’s just something I did.”

I don’t love hearing about him kissing someone else, but it’s endearing how much he cares. “I’m nervous too,” I admit, but before he can tell me we don’t have to do this, I give a firm shake of my head and lock eyes with him. “But I’ve never wanted something so badly in my entire life.”

He releases a shaky breath, his head nodding ever so slightly as he moves closer to me. I breathe in his sweet-smelling cologne and keep my hands where I had them. Bracing myself.

“Kiss me,” I plead softly.

That seems to be what he needed because then he’s leaning in. His lips brush softly over mine, tentative and unsure, but the touch is electric. The shock of it reverberating through my entire body and making me tingle with anticipation of more.

I grip his hair a little tighter, and when he brushes his lips over mine again, I move with him. They’re soft, light, exploring kisses, and I feel it all the way to my toes. When he applies more pressure, capturing my lips with his, I let out a soft moan and lean further into the kiss.

We move like that together for a while, just barely getting a taste. A tease of each other’s mouths. And when his tongue sweeps over the seam of my lips, I instinctively open for him. He takes his time, licking into my mouth, his lush tongue stroking over mine.

Each brush of his tongue has my cock jerking in my pants, rock-hard and aching, my balls begging for release, but he seems completely content, just kissing me like this. He doesn’t try to touch me any more than one hand on my side and the other resting in my hair.

When we both pull back to catch our breaths, his smile—that wide, lustrous grin—nearly takes my breath away. “Holy shit, that was worth the wait.”

I let out a startled laugh. “Did that really just happen?”

He nods, pulling me to his side and settling into the couch, not going in for another kiss or trying to take this any further. He seems perfectly content here on the couch with me. “It did. And man, I hope it happens again.”

I decide to be a little bold and climb onto his lap so I can face him, taking his cheeks in my hands. I look into his eyes. “It could happen right now.”

He grins at me, leaning forward and pressing his lips against mine, but he doesn’t deepen the kiss. It’s a soft, sweet peck. “We have time, Remy.”

It feels like rejection but not quite. I start to leave his lap, feeling a little disoriented and a little scared that maybe he doesn’t want to do anything more with me.

He’s never been with a guy. What if this was just a pity date or something?

Doubt swarms me, but his hands go to my hips, and he holds me into place.

“I want to do all the things with you. All of them,” he says pointedly. “But we have time.” He says it slowly, his voice firm but kind. “I don’t want to rush this because it’s too important.”

“We don’t even know what this is,” I say, wanting to pull away from him again but resisting. I fight my own instincts and just sit there on his lap, my legs straddling his with his big hands settled on my hips.

“What this is, Remy,”—his eyes hold mine—“is the end game. The final. It’s you and me. You’re it for me. Only you.”

My eyes widen, and I feel choked up, tears filling my eyes. “Why do you want me? What if I can’t...”

He brings one hand from my hip up to my mouth and carefully, lightly, covers it, effectively hushing me. “Whatever you can do. Whatever you can offer. I want it. I want it all with you, Remy.”

He removes his hand. “Only me.”

“Only you,” he repeats with a grin. “I’m not worried about anything else.

About any of the hows or the whys. I just know this feels right with you.

That kiss.” He stops talking, and I swear I feel him shudder beneath me.

“That kiss was life-changing. But if you never kiss me again, I’ll still be happy. Because hopefully, I’ll have you.”

“You do have me,” I say instantly. “And I want to kiss you.” I lean into him. “I want to do so much more than that. I want everything too.”

He smiles, and he doesn’t move away when I lean forward and press my lips softly to his. His hand grips the back of my hair as he opens his mouth and allows me to explore with my tongue. I take my time, taking it slow, both of us moaning and groaning. My dick hard again from the sounds he’s making.

I feel his hardness against my own when I scoot even closer to him, but he doesn’t try to go further. He doesn’t seem to be in a rush at all, and I just take the cue from him.

We just kiss. We explore.

We take our time because he’s right.

We do have the time. He has the patience to handle all of me.