Ren

The rain is coming down in sheets outside my window as I finally come to after my heady post-orgasmic haze. I'm nestled under his arm with my head on his chest, listening to his labored breathing slow.

He'd gone hard at the end and made me get loud before he blew us apart—sending a king tide of pleasure flooding through me, shattering us into millions of euphoric pieces that slowly fluttered down and come quietly to rest. I smiled as I realized I couldn't wait to do it all over again.

"What do you want to do on your birthday?"

"Um... stay inside and have sex all day might be at the top of my list right now," he says, smiling his lopsided smirk again.

"Oh yeah?" I bite my lip to keep a huge grin back.

"That and just lie here in bed with you. Dolce far niente," he says in Italian, and my heart swoons to hear him speak it again. It didn't happen often. In high school, he said he understood it more than he could speak it. I wonder if that's changed.

"What does that mean?"

"It's an expression that means the sweetness of doing nothing."

"I like that," I smile. "But I think I'll need to eat at some point. Should we go out to dinner tonight?

"Order in?" he suggests, raising his eyebrows like a cute puppy dog.

"It's your birthday. Chinese?"

"Perfect," he says, threading his fingers through mine and holding our hands up to see them twined together once more.

I notice his tattoos again. His left forearm hugging my shoulder, is somewhat covered with soft gradient lines from just above his wrist to 3/4 of the way to his elbow, making a sleeve in what looks like waves. The right arm, which is holding mine up at the moment, just has one simple one on his inner wrist—an arrow with a semicolon and a cuff at his upper bicep.

"I like your tattoos. When did you get those?"

He drops our hands and rests his wrist face down as if ashamed.

"Oh. Various times over the years."

Now I'm curious. "So... what's the significance of them?"

"Um, this one," he says, pointing to his sleeve, "Is currents. I've always loved the ocean—as you know, surfing and living so close to it all my life. And to me, it signifies life's ebb and flows... um, if, if things get to be too dark and deep sometimes, it reminds me it's only a matter of time till the tide changes again."

"Wow, that's amazingly... poetic, Gio. I love that. What about this one?" I point to the wrist with the arrow, now positioned face down on the bed.

"That one is also special to me, but maybe I'll tell you about it later," he says.

My finger grazes over a band with a flying bird interrupting the lines. "Okay. What about the band on your bicep." 

He blushes slightly. "That's the first one I got when I was eighteen. That... that one's about you."

"About me?" I repeat, stunned.

"Um, a band represents a loss, but the loss is incomplete... and you're my bird who flew away, so..." he swallows hard.

My heart beats faster at that, and I brush my fingers over the lines, and he closes his eyes against my touch. My insides tingle strangely—that was quite a bittersweet thing to hear.

"The unbroken second band is for my mom," he adds, looking away.

Oh, Gio! My heart throbs for him a little bit more.

"I've never told anyone about the real meaning of that one, just so you know. You have tattoos?" he asks, taking the subject off him and rechecking my still naked body. "I haven't spotted any."

"No. Not yet." Then I change the subject again. "So... when you said you were done staying away from me, does that mean I'll get to keep seeing you?"

I bite my lip and hold my breath, anxious to hear his answer to this.

"I hope so," he says, just above a whisper.

YEEEE! As he says this, I can feel my heart swelling an inch larger in my chest. I'm afraid there might not be room if it gets any bigger.

"Good." I smile at him, but it is only 1/10 the size of my smile on the inside. 

I can't believe he said that, and he's still here with me right now in my bed. I'm so damn happy!

I hug his chest tighter to mine and show my leg over his, eager for closer contact. But I can feel him stiffen under my touch, and not in a sexy way. Why?

"Ren..."

"Yeah."

"There's something I have to tell you..." He pulls away from me slightly, taking his arm away from my shoulder and pushing himself to a higher sitting position in bed.

"What?"

Oh, crap, what is he going to tell me now...

"Uh... It's just... ok." He takes a deep breath and lets it out. "I don't work in your building."

"Wait, what?"

"Sorry, I don't know why I said that that day," he begins, running his fingers over his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. "You totally shocked me, showing up out of nowhere, and I... well... it just came out. I didn't think I'd see you again after that, so I just hoped it wouldn't really matter. And then at dinner... I, I'm sorry. I should have been honest then, but... I was embarrassed... I guess." He grimaces, looking so regretful.

Embarrassed? 

"Well, that explains why I could never find you. Where do you work?"

He closes his eyes, hesitating. "I'm not even a counselor. I, I just run my mom's old landscape business," he admits, looking down, nervously picking at his thumbnail, which I can see now looks more like a guy that does work with his hands than sitting in an office.

"Gio?! Why didn't you just say that?!" I say, sitting up more now and turning towards him. "That's great. That's nothing to be embarrassed about. I'm sure your mom would be so happy you kept it up!"

Ah! This makes so much more sense. 

"No, she wouldn't," he grits.

"Why?"

"Ren, there's a lot of stuff you don't know about me now," he says low.

"Okay... like what?"

Is he going to talk about what my dad told me about? The depression...the therapy.

He laughs nervously, not making eye contact. "Yeah, well, once I tell you, you're probably going to change your mind about wanting to get back together with me."

"I don't think so. Well, I don't know... did you murder someone?" I joke to try to lighten it. I'm not sure what he could tell me that would make me not want to be with him. Wait! "Oh, my god! Are you a drug dealer? Is that how you got your car!!"

"No! God, Ren. I'm not a criminal! I bought that car with the money from the sale of my mom's house!" He runs a hand through his hair. "Okay. So, uh. I'm... uh..." He stops, looking nervous and a little lost on how to begin.

"Gio, just tell me. I love you. I won't judge you."

"Say that again." 

"Um..." I feel heat come to the bridge of my nose and the tips of my ears with the serious way he's looking at me with his intense eyes. "I'm in love with you, Gio." 

That seems enough to encourage him.

"Okay, well, I guess I should start at the beginning. So, when we broke up... well, I sort of... wasn't doing so great, and I... abandoned school for a while. I barely graduated."

"Gio..." I admonish him softly, but inside, this hits me hard. Damn it, Gio! I was always the one to motivate him to do well in school. Again, my guilt factor kicks in.

"But, eventually, I got my shit together and went to community college to study landscape design."

I squeeze his hand, my heart feeling lighter to hear it.

"But when my mom got sick, I dropped out to help run it. It was too hard going to school, taking care of her, and running a business." 

Oh, crap. 

My heart sinks for him again. He pauses and takes a breath, and I can feel the tension in him building. I lean into him and rub his shoulder, encouraging him to continue.

"After she died... I... got really... depressed, and... I... I stopped working." He utters each word like it is so hard for him to express, but then the next part comes out in a rush. "I spent all the money from the sale of her house on stupid shit. I let her business run into the ground. Even when I moved in with Adam and got back on my feet, I'm still struggling to build it back up. I lost all her good clients."

The air just got so heavy. His shoulders are slumped, and his head is bowed down. He won't look at me, though I try. "I'm a... fucking failure." He finally gives me a rough, dogged look through glistening eyes, then flicks them away.

Shit. It's his birthday. How'd the conversation end up here?

"Gio—" Ugh, I don't know what to say to him. "That sounds so... hard. You're not a failure," I assure him.

"I am!" he asserts, scooting away from me again, getting agitated and gesturing with his hands. "I'm a glorified lawn mower, Ren! Doing pretty much the same pathetic job I had in high school," he finishes gravelly, folding his arms petulantly over his chest.

"I don't care," I tell him earnestly.

"You don't care?" He raises an eyebrow, turning to look at me. "You don't care... that I sometimes make less than thirty grand a year?" he says slowly, mocking me in disbelief.

Mmmm. Is this why he told me I'd be better off dating Bryce?

"You can build it back up. It doesn't matter to me how much you make," I assure him, trying to soothe him down a little. And it's true. I don't care... I mean... don't think I do.

"But why do you come into my building then? My co-workers have seen you enough times there that they call you the Elevator Hottie."

"Pff!" he laughs in shock. "That's what they call me?!" he says, raising his too-cute eyebrows, smiling. I can feel the tension subsiding. Ahhh. Thank god.

"Yeah, it's kind of annoying," I laugh back, and that feels good.

He turns in bed and lays back down, turning to me on his side, propping his head with one hand, and I rotate and mirror him.

"Well, that's the other part of it." he continues, watching his finger trace invisible patterns on the white sheet. "You kind of assumed I worked there, and I... I just went with it instead of having to explain what I was really doing there," he explains, seeming to feel lighter now.

"Which is?"

"Seeing a therapist," he states, flicking his eyes to me.

"There's nothing wrong with seeing a therapist," I say sincerely, trying to meet his gaze, but he's avoiding my eye contact. "Anyway, I kinda know about that," I admit. Now it's my turn to grimace at him.

"You do?" he says cautiously.

"My dad mentioned it."

"When?" Something flashes over his eyes.

"Just recently."

"What did he tell you?"

"Not too much, just that you guys hung out, and he thought you were struggling and wanted to help."

"Struggling..." he gives a sarcastic huff and looks away. "It was a little more than that," he says darkly.

The guilt of abandoning him is pulling at me ever stronger like an undertow. I know I won't be able to shake it till I tell him and get it off my chest.

"Gio... I'm so so sorry. For all the pain I must have caused you... I— I've felt so guilty about leaving you for New York... for years... and... especially now that I know—"

"Shh," he stops me, putting his hand over mine. He's closed his eyes, just breathing for a second. I'm watching him, holding my breath, waiting to see what happens next.

"It's not your fault...what happened to me," he finally continues, opening his eyes to mine. "I don't blame you anymore for leaving. You did the right thing. And I'm so much better now. What I went through back then... is on me. And it was probably going to happen eventually, anyway." He heaves a breath.

"It was tough, though, I'm not gonna lie, and after that, I promised myself I'd never let a girl hurt me again. I'd never let you hurt me again," he finishes, staring right into me.

I avert my eyes from his. "I'm so sorry, Gio. I never wanted to hurt you. That was the last thing I wanted to do."

"I know. But I've finally been feeling so... normal these last few years... I've been afraid of letting you in again and rocking the boat..." he trails his fingers affectionately down my arm. "But I've decided to take my chances."

I scrutinize his face. There's still stuff he's not telling me, but I already feel he's let so much of it out—especially on his birthday. I shouldn't push him for more right now.

He slides his arm under me and pulls me back in close to his body, hugging me. "The thought of losing you again hurts just as much. I don't want you to see anybody else, okay?"

I squish my eyes shut tight. My chest hurts with the swelling sensation.

"I don't want to," I say after letting those words sink in. "Are we exclusive, then?"

"Yeah," he breathes, his heartbreakingly beautiful gold and green eyes glittering.

"So... you're my boyfriend again?" I clarify my voice tight with emotion.

"Yes," he confirms, emotion thick in his voice as well. "That is if you're sure you still want me?" 

God, do I have a choice? I can't seem to help but love this man. 

"Yes, I do. I love you. I feel like I always will."

"I don't know why you do, but I'm so thankful. I've never stopped loving you."

The thick air releases like a summer storm as his held breath releases, and my tears begin to fall. He leans over and kisses me with his heart on his lips. They move over mine like we can express more in this way to each other than through our words—sweet, sensual, unspoken poetry where each verse is more potent than the next.

Then, somehow, the communication turns playful, and we tease each other and smile through our kissing. 

I can tell a huge weight has been lifted off his shoulders, for as he breaks the kiss, he beams at me with this wide, dazzling, sexy grin, and I can help but grin back. A surge of unbridled joy is emanating from him.

He dives back to my lips once more, now dominating my mouth with his. He's energized, and the electric current pulses hot between us again as he climbs back on top of me, kissing my neck and lightly biting me.

"Gio! It's 1 pm! I need to have breakfast... or lunch or whatev-ahhh," I moan as he abruptly moves down to swirl his tongue around my bare nipple before aggressively latching on, and I hear him chuckle from his throat because he likes that he has the power to melt me like this.

A small smile tugs at one corner of his mouth as he looks up at me with a salacious look in his eyes. "We can make breakfast in a minute," he drawls, his sensual voice rolling out deathly low and distinctly male, and he toys with me, tracing lines on my breast with his fingers.

He moves back up to scrape his rough, unshaven jaw against my soft cheek as his lips brush against my increasingly sensitive ear. He's rock-hard. He's pressing himself almost into me but not quite, just barely holding the tension.

"Just one more time, okay? It is my birthday... remember." 

♥︎♥︎♥︎

https://youtu.be/42kCytcHx48

••• A/N •••

Thank you for reading!

If you liked this chapter, please vote for it by tapping the star :)

Sorry, that was so much conversation. Gio had a lot to say.

Thoughts on his explanation?