Summary: Though their chemistry class is now over, the chemistry between James and Rose is just getting started. Together, they navigate the highs of new love and the lows of coping with past trauma to forge deep and unbreakable bonds of love and commitment.
Chapter rating: M
Chapter 16:
Over the last several months of sleeping—literal sleeping—with James, Rose grew accustomed to being woken earlier than she preferred. At first, it was because the cats, used to their routine, would barge into the bedroom at around seven-thirty and start demanding breakfast. She had nearly shrieked the first time Pippin launched himself onto their bed, yowling right at their heads. James had grunted and shooed him away, but the cat was persistent, and continued pestering them until James crawled out of bed and fed him and his brothers.
Eventually, the cats realized their new housemate wasn't as much of an early riser as their master; on the nights Rose stayed with James, they would graciously wait until eight to start making a fuss.
James was usually awake by that point, and would slip out of bed, trying not to make noise or shake the bed too much, but invariably, Rose would wake up, too. Not completely, though, and she enjoyed spending the next hour or so drifting between dozing and wakefulness; she especially appreciated it when James would slide back into bed and they would cuddle, or sometimes indulge in lazy morning lovemaking. He only did it around half the time; the other half, he would get started on breakfast or would make himself a cup of coffee and sit quietly reading or studying or watching the television. It made the mornings he returned to bed with her more cherished.
Therefore, Rose wasn't at all surprised to feel her boyfriend slip out of bed, even though it was dark through the windows. She didn't have the energy to turn to see the time; plus, the ache between her thighs after three rounds of lovemaking the night before disincentivized her from moving at all. Not that she was complaining. There was something satisfying about the soreness left over from thoroughly having sex, almost like the pleasant burn after a vigorous, refreshing exercise.
Rose absently reached out and rested a hand on the warm imprint of James's body on the mattress beside her, wishing it was his actual body instead.
The next thing she was aware of was someone picking up her hand and moving it. She cracked open her bleary eyes. James lay on his side, arms outstretched as he wriggled closer until he was pressed to her. Maneuvering until she mirrored his position, she flung a leg over his hips and draped an arm around his ribs. He was naked, same as her, since neither of them had bothered with pajamas the night before. The length of his body molded to hers until there was hardly any space between them at all.
Shivering lightly at the feel of so much skin touching hers, Rose tucked her head into his neck, breathing in the warm, musky scent of him.
They remained like that for an immeasurable amount of time. Rose would gladly have stayed there for the rest of the day, but alas, she worked the afternoon shift at the grocery store. Speaking of…
"What time issit?" she mumbled.
"Seven," he answered, his voice a low rumble in his throat.
Excellent. She didn't have to be at work until ten, and she planned to stay precisely where she was until the last possible moment.
James, however, had different plans.
When it became clear that she wasn't dozing off any longer, he threaded his fingers through her hair and tilted her face up. He was so close that his nose brushed against hers. The warm puffs of his slow breathing tickled her lips, narrowing her focus to nothing except him. She could count the freckles that dotted his nose and cheeks, if she wanted to. Could see the day-old stubble shadowing his cheeks in what would probably be a nice beard, if he ever decided to quit shaving.
Glancing up, she noticed his gaze was as intense as hers, his eyes dark and depthless, twitching ever so slightly as they traced her features. She wondered what he focused on, when they lay like this. Was there anything he particularly liked to admire?
"What are you lookin' at?" she blurted.
He blinked, his gaze refocusing on hers. His brows knitted together as he replied, "Er… you?"
"No, I mean specifically. Are you looking at anything in particular? Like… up close, I like looking at your freckles."
"My freckles?"
"Mhm. You've got lots of 'em, and they're adorable."
Rose reached up and brushed her fingertips along the bridge of his nose and across his cheekbones, following the trail of freckles up his temple to the ridge of his brow. His eyes fluttered shut, mouth quirking into a smile when she rubbed the pad of her finger through his eyebrow in the wrong direction.
"I like that your eyes are slightly different depending on the lighting."
It took her a minute, having forgotten her question. "Really?"
He nodded. "Right now, they're dark. Almost completely brown, like mine. If I were to turn the lamp on, they would go to a more whiskey brown. When you're in the sun, they go even lighter. Amber colored, like they're reflecting back the sun's light. Sometimes they're hazel brown, sometimes hazel green. And if you're wearing a lot of eye makeup, they can almost go gray. I love watching them, to see what they're doing."
She'd never paid much attention to her eyes before, or even thought about what they looked like, apart from generic brown.
"You've got very pretty eyes," he concluded, bending closer to her. His mouth approached her eyes, and she shut them automatically. A second later his lips fluttered gently across one eyelid, then the other, before he planted a kiss low on her forehead.
She smiled at him when he nuzzled the tip of his nose against hers. He hummed through a grin, eyes slowly closing again as he angled his head to the side and finally pressed his mouth to hers.
Kissing James was always a slightly out-of-body experience. Her head emptied of anything apart from the feel of his lips on hers, of his hands on her body. It was as though the universe melted away, leaving nothing else behind except for them.
The entire length of their bodies was twined together, their front halves in complete contact. Despite all the love they'd made the night before, Rose could feel James's burgeoning arousal the longer the kiss continued. There was nothing urgent about his movements this morning, not like last night, when he'd been utterly insatiable and almost frantic. Nevertheless, Rose felt her herself beginning to respond to him. Her heart rate increased, pumping blood all throughout her body and sending throbbing, delicious heat to all the right places.
Even in the height of her relationship with Jimmy, when it seemed like all they did was party and shag, Rose didn't remember it ever being this all-consuming. It was intoxicating, and not even the last four months of being physically intimate with James had cooled her lust for him. She wanted him just as much—if not more—now as she did at the beginning. The deeper in love she fell with him, the stronger her desire to share her body and soul with him. Sex with James was so much more than physical pleasure; it was emotional satisfaction unlike anything she had experience before. Which, of course, made the sex even better, too.
His hands roamed at will across her skin, tracing abstract patterns and shapes into her flesh and leaving goosebumps in their wake. He placed his palm onto her hip and rocked his entire body into hers; his chest pressed to hers, and his hips rubbed deliciously against hers. Pleasure swept through her belly, settling low behind her navel.
He repeated the motion, and it was only then that she realized he was trying to coax her onto her back. Disentangling her legs from his, she complied, pleased when James followed suit immediately. He hovered above her, propping himself up with his forearms on either side of Rose's head as he lazily rolled his hips into hers, stimulating both of them as the hard length of him teased at her folds.
"Is this all right?" he murmured, his breath catching in his lungs. "We, er, did it a lot last night…"
"This is perfect," she interrupted.
"Dunno what's gotten into me," he admitted. "Can't seem to get enough of you."
"I'm certainly not complaining. Well. At least not 'til I can't walk anymore."
He snorted and puffed up with an insufferable, egotistical pride. She rolled her eyes and flicked his nose before tugging him down for another kiss.
It was one of the slowest build-ups Rose had ever experienced. It was as though she and James were more focused on kissing, caressing, and feeling. They were merely letting things progress without much thought, together in the moment and basking in the emotional and physical love that they shared. Lovemaking in one of its purest forms.
Rose was hardly aware of the lingering ache between her legs when he slowly slid into her and began to move. They continued to touch and kiss each other, their rhythm unhurried. Gentle sparks of pleasure were fanned into a blazing fire that took them both by surprise when, minutes later, Rose gasped and moaned, clenching around him. It was more intense than she expected, especially considering she'd been perfectly satiated when they'd gone to bed eight hours ago. Instead, it felt as though she hadn't had sex in months, and her body was overcome with hormones and endorphins, flooding her senses with pleasure and love for the man atop her, inside her.
When she came down from her high, James was getting close to his. His face was tense with concentration, eyes squeezed shut as he was able to selfishly focus on himself. Sweat beaded at his temples as he rocked his body into hers, his tempo quickening as his urgency increased. His breathing became ragged, and the needy little moans he let out squeezed her heart. She loved seeing him like this. She loved watching him lose himself in her. She loved knowing he was finding pleasure and completion with her, just as she'd found it with him.
"James," she whispered, reaching up to rest her hands on his pectorals. She rubbed her palms through his sparse smattering of chest hair. He forced open his eyes, his rhythm slowing, to blink dazedly down at her. She clamped her thighs tighter around his hips in apology and in encouragement; she hadn't meant to make him lose his rhythm, but she hadn't been able to stay silent. "I love you so much."
His throat bobbed as his breath stuttered. "Love you, too… Oh."
His hips quickly found their previous rhythm, though with slightly less finesse as his desperation and desire took over. Grunting wordlessly, his back bowed and he arched his hips deeply into hers, finally giving in to his release and his pleasure.
Rose watched him intently, enjoying the pure relief playing across his face, slackening his features. She wanted to kiss him. When it seemed as though he was coming down from the throes of passion, she wrapped her hand around the back of his neck and guided him down for a kiss.
Breathing harshly through his nose, he reciprocated the kiss feverishly. When they broke apart, he dropped his head into the crook of her neck and slipped his hands under her back, holding her tightly. She returned the hug just as fiercely, never wanting to let him go again. Rose didn't want to go into work; she wanted to stay in bed with James all day and do nothing more than exist with him, beside him.
"By the way," he murmured, his voice somewhat slurred. Rose cracked open an eye and saw him smiling sleepily at her. "Happy Birthday."
The words came out so tenderly, so reverently, so confidently, as though it were her actual date of birth. For an embarrassing second, Rose worried she had somehow lost track of an entire month; she blamed the lingering endorphins for her foggy brain as she blinked wordlessly at him.
He broke into a sheepish, boyish grin. "So, not today then?"
It took her mind a minute to catch up before she realized the date. April had begun, and with it, James's mission to figure out her birthday.
Snorting, Rose said, "No, not today, you numpty."
"Though you could be pulling an April Fool's prank on me," he mused. "Wouldn't that be an interesting turn of events?"
"I promise you, on my own life, your life, the life of my mother, and the lives of your cats, today is not my birthday. And for the record, I don't like April Fool's Day. Never been a fan. It gives arseholes an excuse to be bigger arseholes."
James pouted. "Well, is your birthday coming up soon?"
"Sometime this month," she replied innocently, feeling a wide grin stretch across her lips.
"Ro-oooose! Can't you give me a hint?" he begged. "A teeny tiny little hint?"
Rose tapped her finger against her chin before she answered, "It's not the first day of the month, or the last day of the month."
James groaned and face-planted into her breasts. Giggling, Rose carded her fingers through his hair. "Poor baby."
"You're making it very hard to be a prepared boyfriend," he muttered, his voice muffled.
"Now you know how I felt on your birthday. Besides, spending time with you is all I want for my birthday. And maybe some birthday sex."
"How am I supposed to have sex with you on your birthday if you won't tell me when it is?" he challenged, grinning smugly.
"Guess you'll have to shag me every day, just to be safe."
"You drive a hard bargain. But I suppose I can rise to the task. All in the name of love."
Rose pressed a kiss to the top of his head, then nudged for him to get off her. "I should get a shower. I have to be at work at ten."
"Bugger, I forgot." He heaved a sigh. "I'll have breakfast ready by the time you're finished."
With a parting kiss, they rose from the bed and parted ways.
True to his word, James had a stack of waffles and eggs waiting for Rose when she stepped into the kitchen. He was also stirring honey into a mug of tea, which he set at her place at the table. They ate their breakfast and chatted mindlessly about their plans for the day and school assignments: James offered to proofread her essay for her English composition class, while Rose offered to quiz him with flashcards for his upcoming political ideologies exam.
After they'd eaten, they cleaned up from breakfast and dinner the night before. Their bowls were still in the living room, as were piles of their clothes.
"Aha!" Rose had forgotten where she'd left her phone until she spotted it sitting atop her jeans. She picked it up, and saw she had quite a few email and text notifications. Her stomach churned when she saw Jimmy's name. In the passion from the night before and that morning, she had forgotten about Jimmy and how she had told him she was ready to talk to him. She was beginning to regret that decision.
After taking a deep, calming breath, she unlocked her phone and opened WhatsApp. There were messages from Jimmy, her mum, and a friend back home. She tapped Jimmy's name to bring up his message thread.
Thanks for hearing me out. I've been spending the past week figuring out exactly what I want to say to you, but it doesn't feel good enough.
I don't know if I can ever tell you how sorry I am Rosie. I'm sorry for everything, but especially for hurting you, and not pulling my weight in our relationship. I'm sorry for going out all the time, and wasting our money. I'm sorry I left you with the bills and for never paying you back. And I am so sorry for cheating on you. It makes me sick, and I wish I had a good reason for why I did it, but I don't, except that I'm an awful, terrible person.
"Ready to go?"
Rose jumped and had to fight not to hide her phone from James. Instead, she backed out of Jimmy's messages and opened her mum's. They were the usual "good morning" messages, along with some gossip from the estate.
"Yep, just wanted to check my messages. Nothin' important."
She slipped her phone into her back pocket and gathered up her clothes from the floor. She dumped them into the laundry basket to do later, then followed James to his car, where he drove her to work.
All morning, Rose thought about Jimmy's messages, trying to mentally transcribe a reply. For all intents and purposes, his apology seemed genuine—she would have to tell Elsa, who had bet he wouldn't actually give a real apology.
However, after years of putting up with his apologies only to have her heart broken again, Rose was wary about getting caught up in his honeyed words. She made a pact with herself: she would accept his apology, thank him, and then put him firmly behind herself so that she could look ahead to her future with James.
She didn't have a chance to respond to Jimmy until the late afternoon, by which point she wasn't sure if he would be awake or not, what with the five-hour time difference. In any case, she sank onto her sofa, exhausted from her day of running the cash register at the grocery store, and opened up his messages. She read them again, and was no closer to having an answer for him than she did when she first skimmed his words.
Maybe simple was the way to go.
"Thank you for apologizing," she typed and sent.
A few seconds later, she saw that he was typing. Still awake, then.
I really am sorry, Rosie. If I could turn back time and do it all over again, I would change everything.
Rose snorted to herself; he would have to go back to almost the beginning of their relationship if he wanted to make any real changes. And honestly, if someone appeared in her living room with a time machine and offered to let her go back and change the way her relationship with Jimmy had gone, she would not even be tempted to take the offer. For as painful and traumatic as it was, it had eventually led her to James; he was the one thing in her life she would never regret, the one thing in her life she would never want to change.
Deciding to be perfectly blunt with Jimmy, she said, "I wouldn't. You broke my heart, but I came out all the better for it. I'm in a good place now. Well. Apart from when you first texted me. But even that was a good thing. It showed me I hadn't let myself grieve for everything that happened, but I'm fixing that now. I'm happy."
I heard you went back to school. In America?
"Yeah. Got a full tuition scholarship from…" Rose deleted that last word; she definitely was not going to give him her specific location, thank you very much. "I decided I needed a fresh start." Best decision I ever made.
Rose would have gladly left the conversation there, but something compelled her—the niceties of polite British conversation, perhaps—to reciprocate the questions back to him. "What have you been doing with yourself? Still making music?"
Nah, the band broke up a year ago. For a while I tried to make it solo. Things didn't work out.
I'm working in construction now. Hard work, but the pay's good. I've got my own flat and everything. It's nice.
"Still with… your girlfriend? Can't remember her name."
Who, Brenda? No, we split an age back. God, it must've been two or three years since I've seen her.
Rose's chest hollowed out. Not only had Jimmy destroyed their two-and-a-half-year-old relationship without a care in the world, he'd destroyed it with a woman he'd only had a short fling with. She tried not to let it bother her, really, she did; but it was crushing to know she hadn't been satisfactory enough to keep Jimmy invested. She and their relationship hadn't been interesting enough, hadn't been important enough, for him to stay.
This is a Jimmy problem, not a Rose problem. He's a wanker, and that is not your fault. It's a reflection on his character, not yours.
The little voice in the back of her mind sounded suspiciously like Elsa, and Rose couldn't help but smile. She would have to tell her friend that she was invading her inner thoughts. Elsa, her own personal Jiminy Cricket conscience.
"I hope you find happiness, Jimmy. I really do." She sent that message, then followed it up with, "I appreciate your apology, and I hope it gives you peace, too."
I feel I haven't done enough to atone to you. You were the most important person in my life, Rosie. And I still care a great deal about you.
"There really isn't much more you can do. You've said your piece, and to be honest, I think we both just need to accept that things ended badly, but we've moved on. Or at least, we should move on."
And what if I don't want to move on? I love you, even after all this time.
The air gusted out of Rose as though she'd been punched, and her ears rang loudly in the silence of her flat. What the bloody hell was he playing at? There was no way—no fucking way—he could be serious. He could not love her. They hadn't spoken in three and a half years. He hadn't made any effort to contact her until now. While she was unspeakably grateful for that, that wasn't the behavior of someone who supposedly loved her.
Take James, for example. On the days they didn't see each other in person, they exchanged texts daily, even if it was something as small as "I hope you're having a nice day" or "Thinking of you" or "Love you xoxo". She couldn't imagine going even a day without hearing from him in some way, shape, or form. On the days where one of them was in a bad mood, or they had a minor disagreement, they checked in with each other. Because that's what love is. It's eternal and enduring, even though the most trying of circumstances.
Shaking herself out of her head, Rose tapped away furiously on her phone.
"The feeling is *not* mutual. I have moved on. I'm in America. I'm studying something I love. I…" She nearly told Jimmy she was in a happy, healthy, loving relationship, but decided he didn't deserve to share in or know about her joy. James was hers, and she had no intentions of letting Jimmy taint him. "I am happy you're doing better, but I won't give you hope of there ever being an 'us' again. We were young, we made mistakes, and we've learned from them. I have no intention of going backwards."
Okay. Though I would like to do more for you. I left you with loads of bills to cover. It's not fair you were out all that money. I would really like to pay you back.
Rose's lungs seized up. "No. The debt has been paid, and I want to forget about it." I won't dare give you a scrap of ammunition… I won't let you dangle this over my head in the future. "I appreciate the gesture, but I'm going to decline. I'm also going to stop the conversation. I'm exhausted, and I don't want to argue with you about this."
I'd like to discuss it with you further though. When you have the energy. Just think about it, yeah? You paid six months of rent on your own… that's a lot of dough. Consider it reparations. Think on it, and we can talk about it later. Good night, Rosie.
Rose rolled her eyes, but closed out of her phone. Wanker. Wanker, wanker, wanker! A wanker who clearly grew and matured over the last three and a half years, but a wanker nevertheless.
She rubbed the heels of her hands into her eyes, where a dull ache was forming behind her brow. Wanting to instead chat with someone who most certainly was not a wanker, Rose grabbed her phone, pulled up James's number, and dialed it. He answered on the third ring.
"Hi!" he said brightly, a grin evident in his voice.
"Hey," she replied, her body releasing all of its tension as she let his voice wash over her.
"Finished with work? Wanna hang out? Or do a long-distance Netflix and literal chill date night?"
Rose bit her lip around a laugh. "What, too worn out to do a proper Netflix and chill date night?"
He was silent for the span of a few heartbeats before he confessed, "There must seriously be something wrong with me if I would gladly have a real Netflix and chill date with you. We've had sex, what, four times in the last twenty-four hours? Not even… more like twenty hours. My bits are gonna fall off. And how are you even walking?"
Giggling, she said, "Quite full of yourself, aren't you?"
"Pfft, well clearly I haven't done a good enough job, then." He sniffed. "But seriously… isn't this weird? I thought we were beyond the horny hump."
She choked. "The horny hump?"
"Yeah, you know…" With the way he paused, it was not at all difficult for Rose to picture him in her mind's eye, gesticulating vaguely with his hands. Her chest warmed with affection for him. "…the honeymoon period, I suppose. The time where all we want to do is shag. January. I thought we'd worked it all out of our system in January, but it's like a second wave has hit, because good God, Rose…" He let out a wistful sigh that clenched her heart. "I want to make love with you over and over again. I want to lie naked with you and hold you and touch you. I want to be with you, exist in the same space as you."
The yearning in his voice settled heavily in her heart, and all of a sudden, she wanted him in her flat right now so she could hug him.
"I'll be at yours as soon as possible," she promised, standing from her couch and slipping her shoes on.
"No, wait, you don't have to," James hurriedly said. "Sorry, I didn't mean…"
"I want to," she said simply. "I miss you, too. And I… if it's something you still want, I'm really looking forward to moving in with you when my lease is finally up."
"Something I still want? Of course I want it. I will never not want it, Rose."
Even though it felt woefully inadequate to how she felt, all Rose was able to get out was, "Me too. I'm on my way. Love you," before she ended the call and hailed an Uber ride to take her to James. To take her home.
As always, if you've read this chapter, I would love to hear from you.