“That was amazing,” Phillip says. “I did damn good.”
Phillip’s usually pretty impressed with himself after sex. It’d make me laugh if he wasn’t completely right. Everything he does is, like, perfect. I’ve always joked that he knows what’s best for me, but I was talking about in life, not in bed. In bed, he definitely knows exactly what to do to me, like, at exactly the right time. And I’m not sure how he does it because I still haven’t figured everything out about him.
I’ve been thinking about telling Phillip how I’ve been kinda nervous about the whole till death do you part thing. About the whole being together forever thing. I’ve always been able to talk to Phillip about how I feel, but now that the boy we’re talking about is him, it’s not as easy.
And, as much as I keep trying to push it away or smother it, I can’t help it; the burning bush dream is still on my mind. I can’t figure out if it was a sign that I shouldn’t marry Phillip or just plain old cold feet. I read on a wedding website that getting cold feet was completely normal, so I’m trying to be calm about it.
“Phillip, do you ever get cold feet?”
“Are you scared about getting married?”
“Me? Oh, no,” I lie. “I just wondered if you do. I read on some wedding website that it was completely normal. I mean, I don’t wanna be left, standing at the altar, ’cause you changed your mind.”
“Princess, no way am I changing my mind.”
“And you don’t think we’re settling, right?”
“What do you mean?”
“Like, we couldn’t get anyone else, so we’re best friends getting married.”
Phillip backs away like I slapped him. “Is that what you think?”
“No, not at all. Someone just said that, and I want to make sure you don’t feel that way.”
“Let me guess … Richie Rich?”
“Um, maybe. So, you don’t think we are?”
Phillip doesn’t answer. Instead, he kisses my neck. “Do you like that?”
“Uh, yeah, but we’re supposed to be talking.”
He runs his hands down my sides and says, “How about that?”
“Phillip, what does that have to do with cold feet or settling?”
Phillip moves super fast. Before I know it, he’s sitting on top of me, and he has my hands pinned above my head. He leans down close to my face and runs his scruffy jaw across mine.
“Settling for marrying your friend means there’s love but no physical attraction.”
I just put on a T-shirt. He strips it off with one strong hand and pins my arms down against the bed again.
God, I love how strong he is.
“What are you doing?” I say breathlessly.
“I think I need to prove to you that you’re not settling.”
“How are you gonna do that? Aren’t we supposed to be talking about this?”
He kisses down my neck and murmurs into my ear, “Talking is overrated in this situation. I’m gonna do stuff to you. If it makes you want me, then you’re not settling, and we get married. If it doesn’t, we won’t.”
“So, if I can resist you, we can call off the wedding?”
He nods his head and then kisses the top of my outstretched arms, across my wrists, down my tender and slightly ticklish forearm. He’s not even to my elbow, and I already know I’d never be able to resist him with any conviction. Especially now that he’s kissing my chest and my stomach. I’m trying to pretend to be disinterested, but the truth is, I wanted him the second he rubbed his cheek against mine.
He kisses down my stomach, and I think he’s going to really make me crazy by going down a bit further. Instead, he moves back up to my mouth and kisses me deeply.
“You’re being a tease,” I tell him.
“Oh, I haven’t even begun to tease you, Princess. How much more can you take?”
I try to steady my breathing.
My friends used to tell me that all I ever looked for in a guy were muscles and a pretty face. That I should look at his personality, his mind. I joked back that there was nothing wrong with wanting my happily ever after wrapped in a really hot package. And, if Phillip is my happily ever after, then I’ve gotten my wish.
I’m so not settling.
My eyes can’t help but take in every curve of every muscle. The rock-solid hardness of his biceps. His lean stomach. The abs. Oh, how I love Phillip’s abs. Even though my arms are still pinned above my head, my fingers move slightly, like they do when I trace my fingertips down his stomach.
Phillip slides his boxers off and gives me a whole different kind of hardness to look at.
But I can resist him.
I resisted him my whole life; surely, I can resist him this once, just to make a point.
“I can resist you. I resisted you for years,” I tell him.
Of course, he was always clothed when I resisted him.
He pushes all his hardness against me.
“That’s not really fair,” I murmur. “It’s not fair that you’re naked.”
He kisses me again.
“Wow. You can resist. Guess I’ll just go watch some TV, and we’ll call off the wedding.” He moves his body a fraction of an inch, like he’s getting ready to get off me.
I can’t let him go, so I say, “No, you’re not.”
After a very thorough convincing, I know for certain that we’re not settling.
But there’s more.
“Phillip, you know that we’re solving our conflicts with sex, right? You know our relationship is probably already infected.”
Phillip brushes a stray strand of hair off my face. “Princess, I think we solved the conflict, and then we had sex.”
“I don’t really even remember what the conflict was.”
We both start laughing.
Phillip says, “Then, we don’t have to worry about it festering and growing. We’re all good.”
“So, what about the feet? Aren’t you a little scared about getting married? About making a lifelong, till death do you part commitment?”
His brown eyes softly look at me. His mouth turns up into a grin, like he just thought of something happy. “Feel my feet,” he says.
I move my cold feet against his always-warm ones. I don’t know how he’s always so warm, but it’s one of the many things I adore about him.
“Do my feet feel cold?”
I laugh. “No, they’re never cold.”
“And yours always are. That’s why we’re perfect for each other. Mine are always hot. Yours are always cold. You cool mine down. I warm yours up. Together, they make the perfect temperature.”
“So, I actually do something that helps you?”
“You make me a better man, Princess. That’s why I wanna marry you.”
“Really?”
He pulls me in close and kisses me. “Really.”
