Secrets That We Keep

by Linda Kage

  Yellow

  I was too bowled over to speak properly after Gracen rolled off me and let out the most satisfied sigh I’d ever heard a man make.

  But seriously…

  I turned my head to look at him in shock. “I never want to have sex any other way again.”

  He grinned. Then swept up the vibrator that I’d dropped to my side afterward. “Did you hear that, my man?” he asked the green wand. “We did well out there tonight. Great teamwork. Way to give it your all.” Then he gave the swollen plastic head a little high five. And a fist bump. Followed by tapping his elbow to the vibrator’s elbow—er, where its elbow would be, if it had one. “But I think I got it from here.” And he chucked the green guy over the side of the bed before rolling toward me and grinning wide.

  Only for him to pause, and hold up a finger. “Actually, no. Let me clean him for you real quick. That would bother me if I forgot.”

  He popped off the bed with a speed that made me blink. After finding the vibrator on the floor, he disappeared into the bathroom. I heard the thump in the trash as he removed his condom, and then the water ran. A second later, he poked his head out into the doorway. “Did you need anything?”

  The question was so sweet I smiled and shook my head before answering, “Only you.”

  He lifted his eyebrows. “One Gracen Lowe it is, then, delivered right to your bed.” And he strolled across the floor to me, completely nude.

  And wow. Seriously, he was just so...wow.

  I opened my arms to receive him, and he crawled into the bed, burrowing against me with a contented groan.

  “I don’t care if this makes me weird,” he muffled out from the pillow of my breasts. “But I love after-sex snuggling: flesh against flesh, limbs entangled, slow, lazy kisses, bodies malleable and warm, willing to mold up to each other. And happy sighs followed by drugged, contagious grins. I just can’t get enough of it.”

  He lifted his head to look at me with a drowsy, content smile, so I gave him a slow, lazy kiss. “Agree,” I said.

  Our legs tangled under the sheets and bodies meshed together until we came up for air to sigh happily as we turned to face the ceiling as one.

  “Perfect,” I admitted, stroking his hair before I let out a sudden laugh. “Though I can’t believe you made up a secret handshake with my vibrator.”

  He turned his face to look at me. “What? Too corny?”

  I wrinkled my nose and held my fingers up, holding them open with only a couple of inches of space between them. “Just a little.”

  He released a long, sad sigh, letting me know he was completely aware of how hopeless he was. “Yeah, I never did technically grow up. But I hope you don’t expect me to mature too much. I kind of like being a perpetual kid.”

  “No,” I agreed. “I don’t want you to change. I like you exactly as you are.”

  “Cool.” Glowing, he pecked the tip of my nose with his lips. “So honestly...” He idly began to stroke my arm. “How was your ride, my lady? The bloody chainsaw guy didn’t freak you out too much, did he? Your seat belt worked okay? Parachute opened like it was supposed to?”

  I giggled. “Oh, my parachute definitely opened.”

  His mouth fell open.

  “Did you just…” Words failed him, and he continued to gape in stunned shock.

  “No way,” he finally murmured, shaking his head slowly. “You did not just pun me.”

  “What?” I cringed and repeated his words. “Too corny?”

  Bobbing his head slowly, he murmured, “Definitely too corny. It was so corny, in fact, it’s exactly something I would say. But could there be…?” Pressing an impassioned hand to his heart, he choked out a gasp before dramatically adding, “Another like me?”

  I shook my head, loving his silliness.

  Then he really threw me for a loop by tugging an arm around my waist and asking, “Is it too soon to propose yet?”

  My eyes widened. “Um, yes. Definitely.”

  “’Kay, I’ll wait until tomorrow, then.” And he eased up his grip on my waist just a fraction.

  I laughed and shook my head. “I seriously cannot tell if you’re joking right now or not.”

  “You know,” he answered, tipping his head just so, like a philosopher might do when thinking. “I can’t tell either. Let’s just roll with it for now.”

  “Okay.” I was having too much fun to make him stop, anyway.

  “We’ll have to do something about your name, though,” he told me.

  My eyebrows shot up. Say what, now? “What’s wrong with my name?”

  He wrinkled his eyebrows. “Really? Yellow Lowe? You don’t think anything’s wrong with that? People would always think they’re hearing an echo. They’d be like, ‘sorry, could you repeat that? I can’t seem to hear your full name over the damn acoustics in here.’ Yellow Lowe Low Lo...”

  I shook my head slowly before dryly replying, “I guess I’ll just have to stick with Nicksen.”

  “Hmm. Maybe,” he agreed vaguely before lifting his eyebrows. “Should I change my name to Nicksen, then, you think? Gracen Nicksen? Meh. No. Not a fan of that either. Ooh, what about hyphens? Yellow Nicksen-Lowe doesn’t sound half bad.” Wiggling his eyebrows, he nodded encouragingly to me. “Huh? Huh?”

  Screwing up my mouth into a thoughtful pucker, I considered his suggestion, then said, “Gracen Nicksen-Lowe,” to test it aloud. “Hmm. No, that’s not too awful.”

  “Totally doable,” he agreed. “Where did you get the name Yellow, anyway. I mean, that’s your legal name, too. I checked your records after you were hired. I just couldn’t handle not knowing. And it’s on the copy of your driver’s license.”

  Wait, what?

  “You checked my record? What a stalker!”

  “Or just a normal, interested man who has an obsessive crush on you and breaks into your private information so he could learn everything he can about you and then follows you on all your errands. And sits outside your house some nights with a pair of binoculars, hoping you’ll—”

  When I nudged him in the ribs, he chuckled. “What? Too far?”

  “Um, yeah. Way too far.”

  “Sorry.” He snuggled back against me and rested his face against mine. “I probably shouldn’t have snooped in your records. That was bad. I agree. And so was going through your drawers to find Mr. Green. I tend to run wild when uncontained like that, but I do respect boundaries when they’re presented to me, so make sure to put them up where you need them, and I’ll mind my manners, I swear.”

  I stroked his hair and then kissed his forehead. “Deal.”

  He sighed happily, letting me stroke him for about two seconds before his head popped up. “Seriously, though. Yellow? There’s got to be some kind of story behind that.”

  “There is,” I mumbled on an irritated groan. “A really stupid one. My mom’s name is Violet, and my dad is Rusty.”

  “Okay,” he murmured, his brow furrowing when that didn’t help him understand anything.

  “So they’re both color names.” I rolled out my hand. “Apparently, according to them anyway, they wanted me to be named after a color too.”

  “You’re fucking kidding me,” he said, his eyes wide with disbelief. “And they chose Yellow? Out of all the colors out there? Yellow?”

  With a sigh, I lamented, “I know.”

  “I mean, Yellow?” he pressed incredulously.

  I frowned. “Hey, it wasn’t weird to me when I was little. It was just my name. No one ever made me feel like a freak because of it until I started school. So, wow, thanks for all the lovely bullying memories you’re bringing back. Appreciate it.”

  His eyes widened in horror. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

  I laughed, letting him know I was never really upset with him. When his eyes narrowed over my teasing, I sobered. “If it bothers you so much, you can call me—”

  “Oh, no.” He shook his head insistently and slashed out his hand. “I’m sticking with
Yellow. It’s unique. Like you.” Grinning, he kissed the tip of my nose. “Honestly, I can’t imagine you being called anything else, anymore.”

  And he lay back down beside me, only to say, “Though Rose is a perfectly acceptable color name. Or Jade, Coral, Lavender…”

  I sighed. “Do you want me to call my parents and ask why they picked Yellow?”

  “Amber,” he murmured to himself, ignoring me. “Marigold could even be a color name. And it’s a nice yellow hue.”

  “El,” I cried with a laugh. “You can call me El. That’s what my counselor coined me.”

  “Nope.” He shook his head. “Your name is Yellow. I’m calling you Yellow.”

  And that seemed to be that. Until about twenty minutes later, when I was half asleep and just enjoying being next to him in peaceful silence.

  “Scarlett,” Gracen murmured, jarring me alert. “Scarlett’s a good color name. Or Peach.”

  “Oh my God,” I groaned, yanking the pillow from behind my head and using it to whack him across the chest.

  He grunted out a surprised laugh and then snagged me by the waist, towing me on top of him so he could bury his face in the nook between my shoulder and throat.

  “You gotta find it funny that you hooked up with a Gray, though,” he finally said, gazing adoringly at me.

  I blinked once before my eyes widened. “Oh my God,” I gasped. “Your name can be shortened to a color, can’t it?”

  He grinned. “And it is, quite often, in fact, by family and friends.”

  “No.” Horror contorted my features.

  “Yep,” he answered with a gleeful grin. “Afraid so.”

  “That’s it.” Nose wrinkling with disdain, I shook my head and tried to wiggle away, but he just kept holding me there. “I think we’re going to have to end this here and now. No way can I continue my parents’ line of crazy color names and date a Gray.”

  “Oh, come on,” he cajoled, smoothing a hand over my hip and kissing my collarbone to make me compliant. Which worked. “We won’t be like them, I swear. We’ll give our kids normal names.” Then he winked and added, “Like Vermilion, Burnt Sienna, or—wait for it—Razzmatazz.”

  I threw my head back and cracked off a laugh. “I love it,” I decided, slipping my fingers up the center of his chest to curl them around the back of his neck. “It’s a deal.”

  Eyes sparkling with delight, Gracen asked, “Seal it with a kiss?”

  “You’re on,” I told him as I lowered my mouth to his.

  And our future was decided.

  Morning came all too early. Especially when it was the annoying ring of my phone that woke me.

  Gracen had been relentless the night before, though. He woke me up at midnight, telling me it was a new day so he should be allowed to go down on me now, and he proceeded to do just that until I was writhing through another orgasm.

  Then we worked out Mr. Green a couple more times and finally passed out together in the wee hours of the morning.

  And now, I just wanted to sleep for a full day.

  But the damn phone...

  Next to me, Gracen groaned in similar complaint. Then his arm swung out, and a moment later, he mumbled, “Hello?”

  A second after that, he rasped a very unimpressed, “Are you serious, man? This is not the morning to misdial me. Asshat.”

  And he hung up before slapping the phone back onto the nightstand.

  A second later, I frowned. That had actually sounded like my phone’s ringtone. Did Gracen have his phone set to the same ringtone as me? Or—

  “Did you just answer my phone?” I asked, blinking up at the ceiling in confusion as I reluctantly began to awaken more and more.

  “Huh?” he grunted, only to roll my way and wince through a bleary-eyed frown. “Nah,” he finally answered, “couldn’t have been. It was my friend on the other end of the line.”

  “Oh,” I said and left it at that before the ringing started again. This time, I’m the one who sat up and checked. “Okay, this one is definitely my phone.” But when I saw the name Parker on the screen, I gasped. “Shit! I’m late. Hey,” I answered, tucking the phone between my ear and shoulder as I scrambled out of bed. “I slept in. I’m so sorry. But I can be there in five. I swear.”

  “No worries,” my life coach’s voice spoke into my ear. “I’ll just hang out here and practice my jump shot until you show. Unless you need to reschedule.”

  “No, I’m on my way,” I promised. “Just… Give me ten.” I was already pulling some panties up my legs and reaching for my bra, so I might even make it in five as I originally promised.

  “Alright. See you then.”

  Once I disconnected, my attention returned to the nude masterpiece on my bed, my rumpled sheets covering him up to his waist.

  Resting his face on his hand, he watched me curiously. “So you’re leaving?”

  “Yes. I’m so, so sorry. I meet with my counselor every Saturday morning.”

  “It’s all good.” He waved me on without moving from the bed. “I like watching you get dressed in a hurry. It’s pretty hot. Your yoga pants are on inside out, though.”

  I looked down. “Damn.”

  “And... I get to watch you put them on twice,” he cheered good-naturedly. “Score!”

  I cast Gracen a wry glance. “Are you going to stay here until I get back? We only meet for an hour—and way less than that today since I’m so late—so I shouldn’t be gone too long.”

  His gaze warmed. “Do you want me to stay?”

  I nodded and bit my lip. “Yes.”

  “Then I’ll stay,” he said, his gaze heating with interest. “Do you have any problems with me snooping through your kitchen cabinets? I could whip us up a nice breakfast that we could eat together when you return.”

  “Sure. If you want to. Wait. Don’t you have to work today?”

  He shrugged. “I’ll just go in on Monday to make up for it. There’s this sexy blonde at the office that I kind of like running into in the breakroom anyway.”

  Wow. It just took my breath away whenever he said sweet things like that. Sitting on the floor to pull on my socks and shoes, I told him, “I know what you mean. There’s this devastatingly handsome brunette at my office, too, that I can’t seem to stop thinking about. Those office romances, huh? Can’t get enough of them.”

  “Oh yeah,” he agreed, only to frown and admit, “Though this will actually be my first one, so go easy on me, will you?”

  I sniffed and shook my head over his humor. When I pushed to my feet, ready to go, I went to him first to kiss him goodbye. But our lips had barely met when his phone dinged with a new message alert.

  We broke the kiss prematurely so he could check the screen. With a cursing groan, he dropped his head back onto the pillow. “Dammit. It’s Bella. She’s sending me an S.O.S.”

  “An S.O.S.?” I asked with a frown.

  “Yeah. That means I’ll probably have to go over there and comfort her through some bad drama. Fucking hell, I knew she’d gotten mixed up in a dicey relationship.” He threw off the covers and sent me a regretful wince. “Can we postpone the home-cooked breakfast? My twin duty calls.”

  “That’s fine. Completely. But are you…” I paused uncertainly, then just asked, “Are you going to tell her? About us?”

  He paused too, his eyes growing big. “Today? While she’s having an S.O.S. crisis?” Then he winced and said, “Did you want me to?”

  “No,” I rushed to reply. “I mean, yes, someday. I’m sure both of us hate the idea of keeping this from her, but…”

  It was so new. And nice. Who knew how Bella would react? Or what she would do to try to split us apart?

  “I don’t think I can tell her today,” Gracen admitted.

  I nodded in relief. Thank God. “Just warn me before you do, okay? Or did you want me to be with you when you did?”

  “Nah, I should probably tell her on my own. But I’ll definitely let you know beforehand.”

  “
Sounds good. But I really need to go now.”

  “Me too,” he said.

  We came together for a final kiss, grinning at each other goofily when we pulled apart.

  “See you later,” he said.

  “See you,” I whispered, then turned away to hurry from the house.

  Parker was already in our reserved room in the basketball court, shooting baskets when I rushed in, panting and lugging my bag over my shoulder.

  “I’m so sorry I’m late,” I announced, slopping the bag down and hurrying his way.

  He shrugged, fine with it. Then grinned and said, “As long as he was worth it,” repeating the very words back to me that I’d said to him a few short months ago after the night I first watched a movie with Gracen.

  Realizing how far Gracen and I had moved along since then, I blushed a bright tomato red.

  Parker paused, frowning at my face. Then his mouth fell open, and he dropped the ball he’d been holding between both hands. “Shut the front door,” he said, striding forward. “Tell me you did not have sex last night.”

  I opened my mouth but no words came out.

  “Holy shit,” he exploded, gripping his head and gaping at me. “Did you really? Oh my God, El! This is huge. This is incredible. This is, like—I don’t even know. Can we call you cured now? Holy shit. I’m so happy for you.”

  When I grinned, taking on some of his enthusiasm, he grabbed both my hands and squeezed, shaking them as he did. “Congratulations. Was it—I mean, hell. I don’t know how to ask this. But it was okay, right? You didn’t have any issues? No triggers? No fears?”

  “It was…” I paused just to soak in all the memories. Then I sighed and smiled at him. “Perfect. It was absolutely perfect.”

  “Holy shit, wow,” he breathed, pulling me in for a hug. “That’s amazing. I’m so proud of you. Damn, sorry.” He let go of me and stepped back, cringing. “I forgot, you’re not a hugger.”

  “No, it’s okay,” I told him. “I think I’m getting over that hiccup too. You hugged me last week, anyway, and I had no problems.”

  “That’s right.” He pointed at me. “Which reminds me. Bea’s dad of all people saw you and me hugging last week when he was driving by the gym or something, and he asked me about you. In front of her. Then the whole family joined in, insinuating that you were my girlfriend.”