Situationship [Complete]

39 | Terms

Teagan holds my face in her hands as she kisses me. Her breath is still quick from whatever she did to get here. The desperation behind her lips surprises me, but I'm thankful for it. Thinking I had kissed her for the last time has been killing me.

Her lips slip from mine too soon. She looks at me with intensity. Her eyes are wide and wet with tears. "I love you."

The words hit me right in the chest, knocking the wind out of my lungs and the latte out of my hand. "I love you, too."

"Don't go," she adds.

As I hold her in my arms, I can't think straight. "Don't go? I just sold my car. I have a lease and a—" Her lips crash onto mine again. Yeah, I'll shut up.

She grabs the front of my shirt with both hands. "Stay here. We can still see each other all the time. This doesn't have to end if we don't let it."

I open my mouth to give a reason I can't, but nothing comes out. There is no reason good enough to make me want to walk away from her. "You love me?"

"Yes, dumbass," she smiles through her tears. She pulls me close and we kiss again. I can feel the passion behind her lips. The warmth and comfort I've missed. A sense of being exactly where I'm meant to be.

"Yo!" We both turn to the driver. "This is a sweet moment or whateva, but I ain't got all day. Are we goin' or not?" His heavy Bronx accent cuts the tension.

"Move in with me," Teagan says.

"Move—? What?"

"Jeremy is gone, I need someone to split the rent with me, and . . . I don't know, just . . . Move in with me. We can figure it out later."

I don't know if I want to laugh or celebrate. "You want to live with me? I just learned how to clean a toilet, like, two weeks ago."

She smiles. "I didn't say it was a good idea. But let's do it, anyway."

That's more than enough reason for me. "Let's do it."

. . .

Moving up the street is a hell of a lot easier—and cheaper—than moving out of the city. The movers have all my shit inside her apartment in less than an hour. My furniture looks ridiculous in her—our living room. Three couches, piles of bedding plopped on the floor, boxes stacked taller than me. But, as she said, we'll figure it out later.

The movers take their tip and leave. Finally alone, Teagan stands in the doorway with me, appraising the mess we'll have to sort out. I watch her lips twist to the side with annoyance.

"Regretting your decision yet?" I ask her.

She turns to look at me, and her sneer melts into a grin. "Not yet." She wraps her arms around my neck, pressing herself against me. She should be more careful when I'm feral for her already. "Are you?"