by Sj Hooks
When Stephen showed up at the gay club, I realized that he saw me as more than a fuck-buddy and it scared me half to death. He wasn't supposed to feel anything for me. He was my professor and I counted on that fact to keep him from wanting more than what we had. I didn't want to hurt him and he would undoubtedly be hurt once he realized that I couldn't give him more. He was a good guy, much too good for me. I was an emotional mess with my grandfather's rapidly progressing illness and the prospect of being orphaned a second time. Stephen didn't need that in his life. He was handsome, smart, and a fantastic lay. He could easily find himself a woman who wasn't afraid of love and commitment.
Even in the beginning, he had such a hold on me. I let my guard down, I admitted that I liked him; I had even made him fucking sandwiches, for Christ's sake! I never did stuff like that. I fucked and then I left. But with Stephen I had come to enjoy the movie watching and talking just as much as the sex, which was something I had never expected. I was cruel to him that night outside the club and I tried to push him away because I was scared—scared of myself when I was around him.
Then Pop died and everything changed. I felt so alone—even surrounded by my best friends—and I needed something. Someone. I needed Stephen to take the pain away for a little while and went to his place, intent on having him fuck me silly. But he didn't do that. Instead, he gave me exactly what I didn't know I needed: a shoulder to cry on, a bath, dinner, and a warm and safe embrace. How could I not fall in love with him? He was the sweetest, kindest, sexiest, and smartest man I had ever met. I was a goner the second I invited him upstairs that first night. I didn't know it at the time and I would have laughed if someone had suggested it when we first got together, but now there was no doubt in my mind: Professor Stephen Worthington was the love of my life.
I drank down my now-tepid coffee before throwing the cup in a trashcan. I walked on and winced as I adjusted the heavy messenger bag on my shoulder containing both my laptop and several books. I studied so much these days. I read great works of literature. Pages filled with words that spoke of love and passion—but they were meaningless without him. The constant ache in my chest only let up when I talked to him on the phone, and even then it didn't fade completely. He was on my mind constantly and I missed him more than I could possibly put into words.
So I didn't. I didn’t tell him how miserable I was without him. I omitted that fact whenever we talked about my life here and while I felt bad for lying, I also wanted to protect him. Stephen loved so completely, and the last thing I wanted was for him to suffer even more in my absence. I believed it would be better if he thought that I was happy. I’d also had a hard time accepting that I’d become so weak that I could only be happy with my boyfriend around. I’d promised myself never to let a man have power over me, and vowed to be strong and capable while I was over here on my own.
But when we spoke two nights ago using the webcam, I couldn't keep up the charade any longer. He’d comforted me, lifted my spirits, and when I woke up this morning, it was with newfound strength. I realized that I wasn’t weak for missing him. I had finally allowed myself to feel, to love with my entire being, and without Stephen, I didn’t feel whole. We belonged together, and I would tell him that tonight on our second webcam date. I couldn’t wait. I would at least be able to see his face and hear his voice, even though my entire body ached to be in his arms again.
I believed him when he had said that we were together even though we were thousands of miles apart. Stephen wasn't Derek. Stephen wouldn't cheat just because he could get away with it. Stephen would never, ever hurt me. We were going to make it. Stephen and I were forever. He was my everything. With every step I took his name echoed in my mind.
Stephen. Stephen. Stephen.
"Stephen?"
I stopped dead in my tracks, my eyes fixed on the pacing figure outside the front of my building. I felt weightless, suspended above the Earth in sheer and utter shock. He couldn't be real. He couldn't be here. We were meeting online in just a few hours. It didn't make any sense. I closed my eyes and opened them again, expecting to see the empty sidewalk outside my apartment, ready to blame the apparition on lack of sleep and too much caffeine. But there he was; tall, fidgety, and hot as fuck as he glanced at his watch and scratched his neck in that nervous manner I knew so well by now. He was really here, within reach.
"Stephen!"
His name came out in a strangled cry that made the other pedestrians turn and stare, but I couldn't have cared less about them. All I could see was him. Before another thought entered my mind I was running—running toward my future. I knew now that I never wanted to be apart from him again. Wherever he went, I would follow.
The look on his face when he saw me was devastatingly beautiful. It was as though he was lit up from the inside, and all because he was looking at me, because he had longed for me just as much as I had for him. I ran faster. Thirty feet. Twenty. Ten. Then I was in his waiting arms, his warmth and his love wrapped all around me.
"Julia, oh God. Finally," he whispered into my hair.
"Stephen," I cried. "Are you really here? I don't…I don't understand."
"I couldn't stay away any longer," he choked out, his voice hoarse with unshed tears. "You were so sad. I couldn't stay away. I had to come."
"Stephen, I'm so sorry. I never should have left you. I've missed you. I've missed you so much," I blubbered as my own tears spilled out.
"Oh no, don't cry, sweetheart. I'm here now. I'm here."
He was. But for how long? The weekend? Until Monday? It wasn't enough. It would never be enough. The thought of him leaving in just a few days nauseated me. There was no way I could be away from him again.
"I'm coming with you when you leave," I hiccupped. "I don't want us to be apart anymore, not ever. Nothing is worth that. I'm coming home with you."
I'm only home when I'm with you.
"That's good, because my mom and Rich are expecting us for Christmas," he chuckled above me.
I blinked. "What? Christmas?"
Christmas was almost two months away. I looked up at him and saw that he was smiling even though his eyes were wet.
"Baby, I don't…I…what?" I stuttered.
Stephen smiled wider and motioned to the ground. I looked, and only then did I notice the three brand-new matching suitcases on the sidewalk. It was too much luggage for a quick weekend visit unless Stephen had brought all of his favorite books, and while the man loved to read, I doubted that he would have gone that far. My heart started to race from both excitement and fear. It couldn't mean what I thought it meant. I had never been so scared to be right about something before.
What about his job?
"I'm not leaving on Sunday," he said softly. "And I'm not leaving on Monday, either. I'm staying until your semester is over and then I'm taking you home to spend Christmas with my family."
Holy fuck!
It was a strange feeling, being so ecstatically happy and so completely miserable at the same time. It was not something I had ever expected to feel, but there it was. Stephen had left everything behind to be with me.
"No, no, no. Oh, fuck. Stephen, you can't quit your job for me. You love it, you love teaching. I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have cried the other night. I'll be all right, I swear I will. Please! You can't quit because of me. I'll be OK, I promise, I'll be strong! I'll be better, I'll be—"
Stephen's lips cut me off and he kissed me until I shut the hell up. Before I could start up my rant again, he covered my mouth with his hand.
"I won't be all right without you. I won't be OK," he said firmly. "Sweetheart, I love you more than my job. I love you more than anything."
He smiled softly. "But you don't have to worry. I didn't quit my job, I swear. I worked something out."
"What?" I asked, the word muffled behind his large hand.
"Brian helped me out. He and a few of our colleagues are covering my classes for the rest of the semester."
I took his hand away. "Just
like that?"
He grinned. "Well, not just like that. I had to call in a lot of favors. But I managed to make it work. And I’ve already put in a request for a sabbatical next semester."
"You're…staying? Really?" It seemed too good to be true. Much too good.
"If you'll have me."
"Are you fucking crazy?" I shrieked and practically climbed him in order to kiss him.
"Does that mean yes, then?" he laughed in between kisses.
"Yes! Yes!" All signs of fatigue had left my body the second he touched me and now I was a livewire of energy. "You're really staying here with me. In London!" I laughed.
"I know!" he said excitedly, looking around us. "I feel so…alive! I've never been anywhere and now I get to experience all of this…with you."
When he smiled like this, it was difficult to believe that he was ten years my senior. He looked so young and vibrant with his messy hair and bright eyes.
"What do you want to see first?" I asked eagerly.
His excitement was definitely rubbing off on me. I hadn't done many touristy things while I had been here. I had been busy studying, and truthfully, I hadn't felt up to it.
"You," he murmured and drew me closer. "Naked."
He didn't even blush or stutter. My formerly shy professor had come a long way and I realized that I had as well. Giving my heart away no longer scared me, and committing fully to Stephen was the one thing I wanted most in the world. I wanted us to be together forever.
It really was that simple.
"Marry me?"
Chapter 14
"Marry me?"
At Julia’s words, my heart jolted into overdrive.
I looked at her face and especially her beautiful blue eyes, searching for panic, the kind that had hit immediately after she blurted out that she loved me that day in the shower. But it wasn't there. I was met with nothing but certainty and love.
She meant it. She wanted this. She wanted me.
Oh, dear God. Is this really happening?
The girl who was once so terrified of getting close to me, of letting herself feel for me, of committing, just offered me the greatest gift on Earth: her. To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, 'til death do us part…
Stop reciting vows in your head and answer her, you idiot!
"Yes!"
Her lopsided grin appeared. God, I had missed it so much.
"Really?" she whispered.
"Yes! Yes, I'll marry you!" I almost yelled, cradling her face between my hands. "Yes, of course I will."
"Then kiss me.”
She didn't have to tell me twice. I pressed my lips against hers, softly at first, but Julia wasn't having any of that and deepened the kiss while clinging to me. I groaned and put my hands on her waist to hold her closer, wishing that she wasn't wearing her heavy coat, which hid her beautiful curves.
"Let's go up to your apartment," I panted against her lips.
She nodded and we quickly got my suitcases together, scrambling up the stairs.
"I love your place," I told her, honestly, when we stepped inside.
It was bigger than her apartment back home but very reminiscent of it, both quaint and disorganized. It felt like Julia. It felt like home.
I was finally home.
"It's our place now, Professor Worthington," she said and put the bag she had helped me carry on the floor. "Or should I start calling you Professor Wilde-Worthington?"
"You want me to hyphenate?"
Julia shrugged off her coat and, in true form, ignored the hanger by the door and threw it over a chair. It made my heart swell with happiness to see that she hadn't changed since I’d seen her last. I, of course, hung mine up.
"Well, I’m the last Wilde and there's no one left to carry on the family name except me," she said, with hesitation. "I know men don't change their names often, but…"
"No, of course we should do that," I said immediately. "I wasn't thinking. I wouldn't want you to give up your name after we get married."
After we get married. There's going to be a wedding. Our wedding. And then Julia will be my wife! I'll have a wife!
I looked at Julia, standing there in her combat boots, torn jeans, and long-sleeved band T-shirt with her hair pulled back and her smudged makeup in place. She looked so young.
"Oh my God," I said, feeling a little lightheaded. "You really asked me to marry you."
"I did." She walked over to hold me around my waist. "Are you OK?"
"Well, yes. But are you sure you want to get married, sweetheart? There's no rush, really, and you're so young, and still in school," I babbled. "I guess I just never saw you as someone who would even want to get married. And I'm so much older than you are, and I'm kind of boring and I like being at home most nights. Are you sure you want to get married so soon and to someone like me—someone so set in his ways already?"
She looked thoughtful, mulling over what I had said, and I started to get nervous. What if I had just talked her out of it and she retracted her offer because I couldn't keep my mouth shut? I would kick my own ass!
"I've never really had a normal life," she said, her voice soft. "I know that even though Pop did his best, my childhood was anything but ordinary. Now that I'm grown up I would really love some normalcy, you know? I realize that I'm young and I still have years of school ahead of me, especially if I'm going to apply for a PhD program. And I'm messy and impulsive, and that probably won't ever change. But I think that we belong together, Stephen. No—I know we do."
She drew a deep breath. "I know that from the outside, you and I don't look like the perfect couple, and that we're different in a lot of ways, but I know who I am and I know you, baby, and I think it's our differences that make us perfect for each other. You love and support me no matter what and I will do the same for you. I don't expect you to become really outgoing all of a sudden and I know you love your quiet nights just as much as I love being out with the girls making noise. We can have separate interests and still be together. I think that our differences make us stronger and we don't have to try to change each other. We love each other just the way we are now. No matter what I'm doing or where life takes me, I know that I want you to be my husband. I want you to be my home. Please, say you will be."
"Wow," I croaked, clearing my throat. "You've really thought a lot about this."
"No, I didn't have to," she murmured. "It's a no-brainer. I've never been happier than I am with you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. It's simple. I love you. I want to marry you."
"Before I met you I never thought this was going to happen," I admitted. "I never thought anyone would even want me, let alone want me forever."
I drew her into my arms. "I love you. So much, Julia. So much. And marrying you is a dream come true, so you'll get no more objections from me. I swear I'll be the best husband in the world."
"I know you will," she whispered. "Now, will you please just rip my clothes off already?"
"You say the sweetest things. You're such a romantic," I said, chuckling as I leaned down to kiss her.
"Well, I did just ask you to marry me, didn't I?"
"You sure did.”
"Hey, wait," she said when I started to pull up her shirt. "You're not disappointed that you weren't the one to pop the question, are you? I know that it's traditionally something that the man does."
I laughed and shook my head. "When have we ever done things the traditional way? Besides, my proposal would probably have involved a lot of stuttering, and I wouldn't have gotten up the courage to do it for a long time. This is better. This is perfect."
"You're perfect," she whispered. "I can't believe you're really here with me, that you came just for me."
"Of course I did," I said with a smile. "I couldn't stay away. Julia, being with you is everything. I know I need to be where you are. I want you to be my wife and…and I want us to have kids, to be a family."
I held my breath. I’d never broached the subject of having
children with Julia and I was anxious for her response. I knew that I wanted a family and I hoped she did too. If that wasn't something she wanted, I would make my peace with it, but I knew that it would feel as though something was missing in my life if I never became a father. The way that Julia was staring at me with wide eyes made my palms sweaty and tied my stomach in a knot.
"Kids?" she whispered.
"Don't you want any?"
"I—I do, I'd love to have kids some day, but…Stephen, I'm only twenty-three."
The relief was instantaneous.
"I don't mean right now," I said, smiling. "You have to finish school, of course, and like you said, you're only…"
Twenty-two. No, she said twenty-three!
"When's your birthday?" I gasped.
"September 10," she replied quietly.
"Oh God!" I lamented. "I missed your birthday and I didn't even realize it! Sweetheart, I'm so sorry!"
I hadn't paid attention to Julia's date of birth when I looked over her profile on Facebook months ago. I had focused mostly on the year she was born to find out just exactly how much younger than me she was. She had never talked about an upcoming birthday before she left in August and I hadn't thought to check for myself. I wasn't used to having someone in my life to celebrate about except my parents and Matt, and missing her birthday made me feel like a lousy fiancé.
"It's OK." She shrugged. "It's no big deal, honestly."
"But why didn't you tell me?" I asked, a little baffled by her nonchalance.
"Pop couldn't remember stuff like that and eventually I just stopped celebrating. It doesn't matter. It's just a day like any other."
"Unacceptable!" I said firmly. "We are celebrating right now. You deserve to get everything you want for your birthday."
As I walked over to the door to put my jacket back on, I started planning what we could do. Dinner was a definite and then maybe a show of some kind, but where should we eat and what would Julia like to see? I also wanted to buy her a birthday gift, a really good one, something that would make her happy.