And Then You

by Amanda Richardson

  “I’m sad you won’t be my nanny anymore,” she says quietly.

  “I’m sad I won’t be your nanny anymore, too, but you know what? You’re going to have so much fun in preschool. And I will be with you every day when you’re home. We can still do all the things we did when I was your nanny, but this time, it’s not my job. I’ll do those things with you because I want to. Does that make sense?”

  “Yeth.” She looks out the window. “I hope you marry Daddy.”

  “I do, too,” I whisper into her ear. “I love you, Bria.”

  “I love you too, Evi.”

  As Nick walks back into the car, I notice his eyes are slightly wet with tears. I give him a gentle smile as the big truck starts, and I reach out my free hand to rest on his leg. He looks at me gratefully, and then we’re off.

  It’s just the three of us now.

  *

  We get to the new house just before dinnertime, and I can’t help but want to jump up and down when I see it.

  It’s perfect.

  The pictures Nick sent didn’t do it justice.

  It’s a cottage-style house with a white fence, and the house is painted a light yellow, and it has white trim. It’s nice, but not overtly massive. It’s a normal house. A perfect house. The inside is just as wonderful—wood floors, a new kitchen, and a fireplace. It’s the kind of place I would’ve picked out myself. The backyard is spacious, and there’s a large balcony on the second story—presumably the master bedroom—my new bedroom.

  Nick and I discussed the room situation, and although the idea of having my own room was never off the table, I knew immediately that I wanted to be in the same room as Nick. If I had my own room, I’d just be sleeping in his room every night anyways, and there was no point. So I decided to make the spare room an office.

  Nick locks the truck for the night, and we bring in a couple of air mattresses and sleeping bags. The movers are unloading tomorrow, but Nick declared tonight “housewarming night,” and we’re planning on ordering pizza for dinner. I haven’t thought about how I’m going to sleep on an air mattress with a broken leg, but I don’t dwell on it.

  Once Nick orders the pizza, I help Bria get all set up in her room. I use an air machine to blow up her twin-sized mattress, and I make sure her sleeping bag and pillow are arranged nicely.

  When we walk back downstairs, I can’t help but notice on my way down that Nick has a large air mattress and sleeping bags set up in the master bedroom—and two pillows. I’ve never slept with Nick before, so it’s kind of exhilarating.

  “Pizza’s here,” I shout as the chime of the doorbell echoes in the empty hallway. I shuffle over as quickly as possible, but Nick sprints past me and pays. “Just because I’m on crutches doesn’t mean I’m a complete invalid.”

  He just smirks and kisses me on the forehead. “I like you as an invalid.”

  We all eat on the floor, and by the time we’re finished, Bria is asleep in my arms.

  “I’m going to put her to bed. I’ll be right back,” he says, climbing the stairs two at a time with Bria asleep against him.

  I smile and look around—we’ve been here less than two hours, and I already know that I’m going to love it. I eat another slice of pizza while I wait for Nick to come back. I try not to get nervous, but I can’t help but think that tonight is the night. The way Nick looked at me earlier… something tells me he can’t contain himself very much longer either.

  He comes back down the stairs—two at a time, just like me. Well, before the accident. Now I hobble everywhere.

  “She asleep?” I ask. My voice is loud against the bare walls.

  “Yeah,” he says, and he sits down next to me, grabbing another slice of pizza.

  I watch him as he eats, and I can’t help but become overwhelmed at how everything seemed to work out. For both of us. Being immobile and bedridden gave me a lot of time to think and a lot of time to reflect on Nick and how lucky I was to have found him—and how lucky he was to have found me. I know it’s sappy, but it feels like it was meant to be.

  Well, that and the fact that Cecelia was a total meddler. But thank god she was, or else I wouldn’t be here, sitting on the floor with this handsome man, eating pizza in our new house, and feeling so fucking alive and lucky in spite of everything. Life is pretty damn good.

  And he looks really fucking good in jeans and his tight T-shirt.

  I lean back on my arms, and I watch Nick as he gets up to put the pizza in the kitchen. We don’t even have our refrigerator or a trash can, so I have no idea what takes him so long.

  “Did you die in there?” I ask after a few minutes have passed.

  “Give me a minute,” he says, and I hear him bang around. I think I hear the click of a lighter, but I’m not sure.

  “What could you possibly be doing? We didn’t unpack anything except pajamas and our toothbrushes.”

  “I brought a little something extra in. I’m sneaky,” he says as he comes back into the living room with two lit candelabras and a couple of small paper cups. He has a small blanket and a bottle of champagne under his arm.

  “Smooth, Nicholas Wilder. Very smooth.”

  “The champagne is warm,” he says apologetically. “Sorry.”

  I laugh. “I happen to like warm champagne.”

  He puts the blanket down and then the candles. He sets out the cups and comes to sit down next to me.

  “You comfortable?” he asks as he slides his arm behind my back. The jolt of electricity that shoots down my spine as he does it does not go unnoticed by him. He just smiles his knowing smile as I nod. “To Portland,” he says, holding up the bottle. “To us.” The top makes a loud “pop!” and he goes to pour us each a cup of warm champagne.

  “To Portland and to us,” I say, tapping my cup against his. He doesn’t look at me.

  “Eye contact,” I urge, and he looks into my eyes, confused. “Haven’t you ever heard that doing a cheers and not making eye contact with the other person means bad sex for seven years?”

  He laughs loudly and shakes his head.

  “You’re making shit up.”

  “Am not!” I say incredulously. “And even if I were, why would you want to even mess with bad sex?” I cringe and pretend to be disgusted.

  “Evi, I think of all people, you and I do not have to worry about bad sex.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t know,” I say, sitting up and crossing my arms.

  “Let me show you, then.”

  Before I can say or do anything, he leans over and kisses me hard. I have to keep from moaning out loud as his hand brings my face in closer to his and gets tangled in my hair.

  “Are you okay?” he asks, gesturing to my cast.

  “I don’t plan on using my left leg, so yes, I’ll be okay.”

  He smiles and stands up. “I think you’ll be more comfortable in our bedroom,” he says, and he bends down to carry me.

  Unlike last time when he picked me up and carried me into the Caribbean Sea, this time I let him, and this time I don’t say a word as Nick carries me to the bedroom. Our bedroom.

  Forty-five.

  Nick

  I set her down on the air mattress, and I go to close the bedroom door. She’s looking at me in such a way that I know I won’t be able to control myself tonight. She looks too fucking good not to have my way with her. And let’s be honest… I’ve been waiting to do this since September.

  I can tell she’s a little nervous. I am, too. I haven’t been with anyone since Isabel. I dim the lights and walk back over to her. She’s biting her lip, and my God if that’s not the sexiest thing ever, I don’t know what is. She has no idea how beautiful she is. No idea. And I think that’s why I love her so much. Because she’s real and good. She’s so good, deep down to her core. I mean, she almost lost her fucking life trying to save a dog.

  I try not to think as I crawl into the bed beside her and bring her in close to me gently. I’m going to have to be careful. I probably shouldn’t even be
doing this, but I already know I won’t be able to stop now. Her eyes tell me everything I need to know. I’ll just have to be really careful.

  “You okay?” I ask for the millionth time.

  “How about I let you know if I’m not okay. Okay?” She smiles as she says it, and I brush my lips against hers. “Nick,” she moans, and that moan shatters me, slays me, into tiny little pieces. I’m not sure I ever want to be whole again.

  I kiss her more passionately, and she twists her body slightly so that she’s on her back. I sit up next to her and move to the end of the bed. Her eyes are hooded, and she looks so into it. I guess I must be doing something right, because she bites that fucking lip again.

  I reach up and unbutton her jeans slowly. She gasps and throws her head back. This is the part where I know I’ll have to be careful. I climb out of the bed and I pull her jeans off slowly, one leg at a time, ensuring I don’t disturb her broken leg. I keep my eyes on hers to make sure I’m not hurting her, but she just looks at me longingly.

  I cast the jeans to the side, and I go up to her torso and begin to remove her shirt gently. Slowly. Tantalizingly. She gasps again.

  “What? Did I hurt you?”

  “For fuck’s sake, Nick, I’m fine. It just electrifies me every time you touch my skin in certain places. I feel like I’m on fire.”

  Oh. Wow. Fuck.

  I pull her shirt off gently and toss it to the floor. I take in her body—lean and thin, lithe in all the right places, yet generously curvy in all the others. She could be on a fucking magazine. Her light-purple bra and panties are hot—I can’t help but notice that they match, and that thought clouds my vision even further.

  Not wanting to hurt her, I resume my position next to her.

  “Close your eyes,” I say, and she obeys.

  I run my finger down her cheekbone, and she sucks in a large breath of air. It delights me to no end that I have this kind of effect on her. I continue to trail my fingers down, inching along her neck, down the middle of her chest, along her soft stomach, and finally, to the top of her underwear. I stop suddenly, and her eyes flick open.

  I look at her as she nods in approval—a silent gesture telling me it’s okay.

  “Eyes closed,” I whisper. She shuts them tightly in anticipation. I can’t help but grin widely.

  I run my fingers softly against the outside of her underwear, and she moans out loud again and writhes underneath me. I go lower, down her inner thigh, past her knee, and as I sit up, all the way down to her ankle and foot. I stop, and she keeps her eyes shut, breathing heavily. I just want to look at her for a minute—her long, brown hair fanned out behind her, the single mole just to the left of her belly button, her lush, red lips that I want to bite and nibble every time I see them… she’s perfect.

  I run my other hand along her broken leg softly and up to the knee, encircling her knee cap before running my fingers up, up, up…

  “Nick,” she moans, bucking her hips.

  It’s a plea, and I can’t ignore it now.

  I pull her underwear off with my teeth, gently, gently… all the way down. She gasps more loudly, and I assume it’s out of pleasure and not pain. Her writhing hips tell me so.

  Poor Evi. I’ve made her wait for so long that now she’s insatiable.

  I’ll just have to get her as sated as possible.

  She’s perfect down there, and I find myself giddy to kiss her there. I do it without asking, and she doesn’t seem to mind one bit as I flick my tongue against her. She arches her back as I increase the rhythm, and I bring two fingers inside of her just as she arches in anticipation of them.

  I know she’s close, because she’s gripping my hair and moving her hips upwards and into my mouth.

  “Nick, Nick, Nick,” she says over and over. I never thought I’d like the sound of my name so much.

  Just as I curve my fingers ever so slightly, she cries out and thrashes against me. I continue my pace, and then I slow it down as she lets out a giant breath of air. I slowly pull my fingers out, and after one last flick of my tongue, I look up at her.

  She’s smiling, and I go to kiss her. I have to kiss her. I’m suddenly wary of where my mouth has been, but she doesn’t seem to mind, because she pulls me in closer by my neck.

  “Your turn,” she says, and those two words are my favorite two words ever to be uttered in my life.

  “Evi,” I say reluctantly. “When you’re better. It’ll be hard to…” I don’t elaborate, but I imagine the mechanics of whatever she has in mind will be difficult with her cast. “As much as I want you to, we have to be gentle tonight. Okay?”

  “Fine,” she says, feigning exasperation, but really, she’s grinning widely as she stretches her hands above her head.

  “You… doing that… reminds me of one thing.” I reach underneath her and unclasp her bra in a single motion. Now she’s completely naked.

  Of course she’s gorgeous everywhere. Of course she’s perfect. It shouldn’t surprise me. I stand and remove my pants while she watches me curiously. I suddenly feel very vulnerable and exposed, but then I look at her, sprawled out naked on the mattress, and I remove my shirt and boxers. She sucks in a mouthful of air when she sees me.

  “Nicholas Wilder…” She motions with one finger for me to go over to her, and I decide right then and there that that gesture is my single-most favorite gesture ever.

  In fact, everything she does is my favorite thing ever.

  I reach into my backpack for protection, and soon I’m hovering over her. In a way, I almost don’t want to break the spell between us right now, because the first time is always so anticipatory, and the way I’m feeling with her, right now, waiting… it’s magical.

  “Ready?” I ask. I feel like I always have to ask.

  “Don’t ask me. Just do it.”

  I oblige, and soon I’m thrusting into her over and over as our bodies connect and respond to each other.

  I lied. I thought the feeling right before having sex with Evianna was the greatest feeling. But in fact, it’s actually having sex with her that’s the greatest feeling ever.

  I’m propped up slightly so that my weight isn’t on her—her rib is still healing—and I’m trying to be as gentle as possible, but it’s hard when all I want to do is throw her legs over my shoulders and pound her senseless.

  But I don’t. I bend down and kiss her gently, and she moans my name, sending waves of pleasure down my whole body.

  “Evi…” I whisper, going deeper. She responds by raising her hips to meet mine.

  Our heavy breathing mixes together, and I can feel her start to climax.

  “Nick,” she breathes, biting my earlobe. “Nick…”

  I look down at her just as we both release, and we both cry out loudly as the waves of pleasure make their way from her, to me, and back to her. We’re sharing this together, and our eyes lock on to each other the entire time. I’m not sure if I’ve ever felt this connected to anyone.

  “I love you, Evi,” I say as we disconnect and lie together naked.

  “I love you, Nick,” she says, smiling. “So much.”

  She turns onto her side, grimacing slightly, and she watches me intently as I put my hands behind my head and look up at the ceiling, smiling.

  “Truth or dare?” she asks, and I can’t help but laugh.

  “Really?”

  “Really.” She eyes me playfully.

  “Dare,” I say, wiggling my eyebrow. It’s not the answer she expected.

  “I dare you to make love to me again.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me.” She rolls back over to her back and looks at me seductively.

  You can never violate a dare…

  Epilogue.

  Evianna

  -Three years later-

  I strut up the stage and try not to fall on my face as the dean of the university hands me my diploma.

  “Congratulations, Mrs. Wilder.”

  I smile as I take it from him,
and a few people in the audience cheer and clap. I produce a small wave, but I’m teetering in these heels, and I really don’t want to fall over.

  I clutch the railing as I make my way back to my seat, and the graduation music blares in my ears as I pass the speaker. I feel the familiar flutter in my stomach, and I rest my hand on the swollen mass underneath my robe—our future son.

  I’m graduating with my doctorate in English literature, and I’m eight months pregnant. Violet picked out the shoes, and I’m already cursing her because my swollen feet are aching, and I’m not sure I can walk more than two feet in these things. They’re practically stripper heels.

  I take a seat and wait for the rest of the ceremony to finish up. As it dies down, and as the dean gives one final speech, I see all of my fellow doctors throw their caps in the air. I do the same. Though this is my fourth time at a graduation ceremony, it’s still just as exciting. I feel tears leak from my eyes as the hats spin up into the air and back down. It’s beautiful, and I’m also damn proud of myself for doing this and getting here.

  People begin to stand to leave, and I wait for our row to be dismissed. I walk steadily, using my belly as a navigator. Unfortunately, being pregnant in graduation robes isn’t cute—it just makes me look massive.

  “Hey.” I hear the familiar, low voice over my right shoulder, and I spin around to face Nick. “Congratulations.” He hands me a single dahlia, and I smile.

  “Thanks.” I duck under the railing, where he’s standing, and I have trouble coming to a standing position again, so Nick takes my hand, laughing as he brings me back into a standing position. “Ugh. I can barely walk with these things,” I say, gesturing to my feet. I reach down and try to unbuckle them, but I can’t. “Sweetie, will you do me a favor?” I ask, and I’m suddenly embarrassed. “I can’t bend down to take my shoes off.”

  He just smiles, and he gets down on one knee and relieves my feet from their hell.

  “There you go,” he says, kissing me lightly on the lips, “Doctor Wilder.”

  The next hour passes in a blur—colleagues, classmates, and family all come together to congratulate me, and I feel like the luckiest woman on the planet. My heels are dangling from my fingers, and I don’t even care. Heels and pregnancy do not go well together, no matter what people tell you. They’re obviously liars.