Page 23 of Only You

EIGHTEEN

“Well, this is domestic as fuck,” I have to tease Kellan because he burned the potatoes. Phillip gave him one job for Thanksgiving, and he burned the potatoes.

“Fuck off,” my best friend grumbles at me as he waves a towel around—I guess to try to clear out the smoke. Thankfully, there’s no fire, despite the smoke alarm going off.

Phillip races in and looks at the now crispy potatoes and then back at his man. “Did you forget to add water?”

“No,” Kellan says all huffy. “I just... maybe didn’t add enough.”

Phillip looks like he’s trying not to laugh, and I barely manage to hold my own laughter back—that’s only because Remy walks in just in time to cover my mouth with his hand.

“I think some sports ball game is on the TV. Maybe you guys should go watch it?”

“Seriously? I’m getting kicked out?” I ask, pulling his hand off my mouth and lacing my fingers with his. “I didn’t burn anything.”

He squeezes my hand and shakes his head, but his smile is a mile wide before he swats me on the butt. “Go. I will not have a Thanksgiving without mashed potatoes, and sadly, I’m not sure that’ll happen with Kellan in the kitchen.”

Kellan opens his mouth to argue but then stops. “Fair.”

Phillip laughs and smacks a kiss on Kellan’s mouth before they both shoo us out of the kitchen.

“Does it ever bother you that we’re practically dating the same men?”

“Nope,” I say with a little skip. “Makes sense because we’re pretty much the same person.”

He chuckles, and we both take a seat with Cason and Raegan on the couch. Braylen is running around the house, saying he’s hungry. And I’m not sure where Kieran is—but I’m sure wherever it is, it includes a book.

I can’t help but notice how happy Raegan seems these days. I know she’s been talking to her counselor off the school grounds, and it’s been a huge change for her. Hopefully, she’s starting to get that she wasn’t to blame.

Just like Remy is starting to understand the same thing. He says he wasn’t ready then... and I think him telling me that brought a whole new perspective to Raegan. She wasn’t ready to deal with it then, and now that she is, the healing has begun.

It’s kind of really fucking beautiful to witness. Someone overcoming something so grim.

Soon though—way sooner than I expected—I’m joined by Remy who flops down next to me with his arms folded.

“You okay?” I ask.

“He kicked me out,” he says, his face in an adorable little scowl.

I look over at Kellan and then Cason and Raegan before we all burst out in laughter.

“Oh, this is funny?” Remy asks, looking pretty damn amused with a smile on his face.

“Hilarious, actually,” I say, wrapping my arm around him and kissing his temple. “You thought you were the bossy one.”

“You may own that school, but Phillip is definitely the boss of this house,” Cason says, casually kicking his feet out in front of him with a happy little smirk.

Remy just huffs, and I think I fall even more in love with him. Speaking of that... it’s getting really hard to wait for him to say that out loud before I do. I keep nearly slipping up and just saying it.

I want to scream it.

But even though he swears there’s nothing I can do to push him away, I can’t bring myself to get over that fear. I actually brought it up in a meeting last week because it’s been weighing heavily on my mind.

I mean, no, it doesn’t make me crave any substance or anything, which honestly is surprising. In the past, any small hiccup or irritation would lead me on a bad path. But it’s not like that with Remy.

I know without a doubt I never want to go back to that. And I’m happy. Truly happy. So happy that my biggest problem right now is not telling the man I love just how much I love him so I don’t freak him out.

What a problem to have, right?

Phillip walks into the den, all innocent, like he hasn’t kicked every single one of us out of the kitchen today, grabbing one of the olives from the nice little snack tray he prepared, then plopping down on Kellan’s lap.

“Everything okay?” Kellan asks, looking nervous.

“Yeah, of course,” Phillip says, waving him off like he’s not a total Thanksgiving monster. The guy loves holidays, that’s for sure. Always making sure that each holiday is absolutely perfect for the kids. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Because your head has been spinning around an awful lot today,” Cason quips, grabbing a pickle and snapping off a bite without a care in the world.

Kellan glares at him, and Phillip looks horrified. “What?” he asks, his voice all high and squeaky. “It has not.”

“It so has,” Raegan adds with a little cackle.

Phillip looks genuinely shocked, which makes it even funnier. “Look, I just like things a certain way.”

“You’re bossy on holidays,” Braylen says, coming out of nowhere to join in on the conversation.

“Just because I like things done a certain way...” Phillip starts, and Keiran comes down the hall—he must have heard the conversation because even with his Kindle right in his face, he doesn’t miss a beat.

“Your exact way or get out of the kitchen.”

Phillip shrinks a little bit at that and bites on his bottom lip, his eyes on Kellan. “Am I really that bad?”

We all wait to see what Kellan is going to say because honestly, the guy is not good at lying. He just smiles easily, and I realize right before he speaks that whatever he says isn’t going to be a lie. “You’re perfect.” He kisses his nose, and we all groan.

Cason rolls his eyes. “You two are gross.”

“We are,” Kellan says proudly, but he’s not looking at Cason. He’s not looking at anyone else but Phillip. “You know, I was going to save this for after dinner.”

“Ew, if you’re going to make out, please, for the love of God, go somewhere else,” Cason complains.

Remy just chuckles softly next to me.

“Nah, not that. Not yet,” Kellan says with a wink, his eyes still on Phillip, who squirms a little in his lap.

He has no idea where this is going, but I think I know.

It’s something I’ve expected to happen for a while.

“Phillip, let’s get married.” I hear a soft gasp from Remy, but my eyes are locked on the couple next to us. As are everyone else’s.

“We’re already engaged?” Phillip says like it’s a question, his eyes all wide like he’s shocked. And I know that technically Kellan did ask him right after the court date to marry him, but I’m not sure they told anyone else.

And I haven’t heard them discussing wedding plans since then.

“Not really. I want to set a date. I want to make it happen and soon.”

Phillip smiles, a deep breath releasing through his mouth. “You want to set a date?”

Everyone sits around, just spying on this private moment, but I think Kellan wants that. I think he wants to make it official. “I do. I was thinking December.”

“December?”

He nods at Phillip’s question. “December 21st? The kids will be on winter break, and then you and I can maybe go stay in a cabin for a few days for our honeymoon.” He looks over at Remy and me. “That is, if we can find someone or someones to watch the kids?”

I give a nod, and to my surprise, Remy does too. Instantly agreeing.

“That’s next month,” Phillip says softly, but I can see he’s already making plans in his head.

“Everything we need is right here,” Kellan says, sweeping an arm out and around the room.

“You want to get married here?”

“In the back yard,” Kellan confirms.

“In December,” Cason says disbelievingly.

“Yup. Phillip loves the snow. So, if it snows—bonus,” Kellan says without missing a beat.

“Okay,” Phillip says. And then a little more excitedly, he wraps his arms around Kellan’s neck. “Okay. December 21st.”

“Hell yes,” Kellan says and presses his lips to Phillip’s. They keep it PG, but we still all have to give them a hard time before congratulating them of course.

After dinner, Remy and I say goodnight to the family and make our way back to his place. I haven’t even seen the inside of my apartment for a week, and that was just to grab some more clothes so I could head back to Remy’s house.

When we get to his place, we both kick off our shoes and make our way into the living room. “I have to say, even though Phillip might be a bit of a holiday monster, the guy can cook.”

I kick my feet up onto the coffee table and wrap my arm around Remy, flipping through Netflix to get to our favorite show. “Well, without our pumpkin pie, the day would have been a bust.”

He chuckles. “Hey, Tatum?”

My head swivels in his direction, my full attention on him. “Yeah?”

“Are we living together?”

I chuckle and relax when the question doesn’t seem to bother either of us. “I’m not sure. Not officially, I suppose.”

“Do you want to?” He seems shy—even vulnerable—when he asks. It’s intoxicating.

I’m not really nervous or scared to move in together, not at all. But my heart is still thumping wildly in my chest. “I do.”

“Okay,” he says, looking content and happy with my answer. Settling into my side as if that’s that. “We should do that.”

“I’ll move in right now, if you want, Remy.”

He grins over at me, his face lit up beautifully, and once again, I want to fucking say it. “How about tomorrow? I was thinking about digging into the pie we left here. I’m starving.”

We did eat pretty early today. But I’m not hungry for pie or any food at all. Instead, I lean down, nuzzling into his neck and pressing my lips against his skin. “Me too.”

He snickers. “For pie,” he clarifies, but he doesn’t seem at all upset with the direction I’m going instead.

“What if I want something else?” I pretend to pout, lifting my head to look at him.

He rolls his eyes at me but is still smiling. “And what would that something be?”

That’s an easy question. Something else that’s been on my mind for a while now. “When we had that conversation about topping...”

“You mean the conversation that wasn’t about topping at all, but your weird ass somehow made into me being a top?” I love this side of Remy, I gotta say. It’s light and fun—not that I don’t love the vulnerable and real parts of him either. I love every single side of Remy Valentine.

“Yeah that,” I say with a grin, nuzzling into his neck again, starting to kiss him there softly.

“What about it?” He tilts his head back, giving me better access to his neck.

“Is that true? You like to top?”

He freezes and then lowers his head, moving to pull away from me so when I sit up, we’re looking right at each other. “I haven’t ever...”

“Topped?”

He shakes his head, and I notice the fun carefree moment seems to have morphed into him looking nervous. That wasn’t my intention at all.

“It’s okay if you don’t like... I mean, I guess sex isn’t the right word, even though that’s what I was going to say. But what we’ve done already, that has to qualify as sex, right? I mean, it’s been mind-blowing as fuck.”

His lips pull up slightly instead of the nervous line they were in a moment ago. “It has been. And yeah, I’d qualify that as sex.”

I nod, knowing I’m likely not explaining myself well. Thankfully, Remy seems to know I’m struggling to find the right words.

“I like all kinds of sex, Tatum. I just...”

“You can tell me anything,” I say, hoping he knows I mean it.

We already had the awkward I’ve been tested talk right after my very first time performing a blowjob—something I think I excel at, by the way.

Though practice makes perfect, and I have definitely improved. But this is kind of the same as that.

We’re adults. We should both be able to talk about the fact that our test results are negative and that we’ve always used condoms. And what we like in the bedroom. I don’t want to cross any lines, but I’m dying to take that next step with him.

If he wants that.

“I’ve never bottomed before.”

Oh. Ohhhhh. That’s why he looks nervous. He thinks I want to be inside him—which, yeah, I’d love that, if he ever decides he wants that—but that’s not what I was going for tonight. “Oh, but you top?”

He nods his head slowly, studying me as if I’m not quite getting something. “I have... yes...”

I lean in, brushing my lips over his. “So you’d maybe want to top me?”

He jerks back, his eyes wide and his mouth agape. His eyes are unsure. “You want that?”

“More than anything,” I confirm. “I can’t think about anything else. Shit, I’ve thought about meeting my prostate since you told me it was a thing.”

He lets out a startled laugh at that, licking his lips, and his gaze intense. “I can definitely help you with that.”

“Yeah?” Excitement races through me, and I stand up grabbing his hand with a whoop before pulling him back toward his bedroom.

“You really do want this?” He sounds bewildered by that, and I’m already stripping out of my clothes as soon as we reach the bedroom. I nearly trip and fall, using the wall to brace myself as I pull my pants and underwear off. Kicking them away excitedly.

“Why wouldn’t I?” I turn to see him sitting, still fully clothed, on the bed. “Remy?”

I ignore the fact that I’m totally naked now and sit next to him on the bed.

“Why wouldn’t I want this?”

He turns his head to look at me, in a bit of a daze. “You were straight.”

“Apparently not,” I say, keeping my smile light because I need him to know how serious I am about us. About this. About him. Only him. I make jokes, and I make light of things in the world as a coping mechanism, but when it comes to him—I don’t have to cope.

I just want to exist with him. Be with him. Love him.

“You’re sure about this? Even if I can never return the favor?”

I cup his cheek with my hand and stroke his cheek with my thumb.

“Remy, this isn’t a tit for tat sort of thing.

I’m not doing you some sort of favor, letting you fuck me—you’re.

..” I pause for a minute and then grimace briefly about what I’m about to say because I’ve never used the term before.

Always thought it was kind of corny—but it’s starting to make sense to me now.

“ We’re going to make love, and no matter how we do it, it’s going to be for both of us. Every single time.”

“I love you,” he breathes, and it nearly steals my breath from my lungs, making me gasp.

“Show me,” I say, leaning in to kiss him hard, grabbing the back of his neck and holding him there.

Yeah, I’m nervous—a little—but it’s a strange thing with Remy. No matter how scared I may be, it all feels okay as long as it’s him and me together. And I know I want this.