Umm . . . fuck yeah!

I pull myself together and squeeze Heather’s hands as I look deep into her eyes. “Heather,” I say shakily, “am I dreaming? Is this really happening to me? I’m not going to wake up alone in my bed, am I?”

She laughs, gaily and rather wildly; even in my fragmented state I can hear the explosive release of tension in her laughter. Once she gets herself under some control, Heather says softly, “Andrew, we are both completely awake, and I will take every opportunity I can get to make sure you don’t wake up alone in bed.” She leans a little closer and says, “Sometimes dreams really do come true, baby. And sometimes, you even get a second chance to do what you should have done the first time.” She leans a little closer and our lips meet across the table; it’s a light, fleeting kiss, just a promise of things to come, but I can feel the jolt of electricity run from our lips through every part of my body.

Heather sits back in the booth, her face glowing and her eyes bright with unshed tears. “I want you to understand,” she says huskily, “I’m not asking you to give up your business. I don’t want you to. I’m not asking you to stop fucking your clients. I don’t want you to feel you have to. I’m not even asking you to stop fucking Alyssa. Nor am I asking you not to date at school.” I start to interrupt, but she leans close and silences me with a soft kiss.

“No, Andrew,” Heather says quietly, “listen to me, I’m completely serious. I’ve dated so many other boys, it would feel terribly unfair to ask you not to date any other girls, and I cannot bear the thought of being unfair to you like that—much less of having you think of me as unfair, selfish, or controlling. I want you all to myself forever, but I don’t ever want you wondering if you could have had something better. I want you to be my boyfriend, but I’m not going to ask you to be exclusive this semester; I will be, because I don’t want anyone else anymore, but I want you to be sure you don’t want anyone else either before I ask you to commit fully.

“I admit, I don’t like the thought of you fucking other girls . . . but even more, I don’t want you to resent me for having fucked so many other boys. I don’t want it to be an issue later, so I want you to feel free to take the semester to be sure of how you feel and what you want. I promise you, my feelings for you won’t be any less when we’re home again for the summer.”

I lean forward in my turn and kiss Heather, a bit longer this time. When I break off, I say, “Heather, it feels like you’ve made every dream I ever had come true.” I can see her shoulders relax a little. “Yes, I’ve had clients I could have fallen for; yes, I was looking for a serious girlfriend if I could find one. I never thought I had a chance with you—I’d never had any hope of that.” She looks a little sad, and I reach out to caress her cheek. She captures my hand in hers and rubs against it like a cat. “Don’t be sad, love.” Her smile returns and she purrs softly at the endearment. “We’re here now, and none of my clients wanted a relationship, and everything is right how it ought to be.

“We have the next two weeks together, and I promise you, I love you, and that won’t change. I don’t need to have sex with anyone else to be sure of that. I’ll keep the business going this spring because I’m fond of many of my clients—and because the money is nice, to be sure—but after that, I’ll stop; I don’t need to go looking for a better deal. You’re all I want. I want to be yours, and you to be mine.”

The joy in Heather’s face is inexpressibly beautiful. Knowing it’s because of me is almost too much. “Thank you, baby,” she whispers, then swallows hard and says, “But we’re going to be apart so soon, and I know it’s going to be hard for both of us. If you do—just know, you’re not going to lose me. I understand. There’s nothing I can hold against you. I’m not going to let you go, no matter what, as long as you don’t want me to.”

“Just hold on to me, Heather,” I tell her softly. “Always and forever.”

“Always and forever,” she echoes, leaning across the table to kiss me again. Our lips part and I slip my tongue between them, twining it around hers. When we finally break apart, both of us are breathing heavily. Heather tries to speak, clears her throat, and tries again. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“You’re coming home with me, baby,” she says.

“What about your parents?” I like Owen and Mary Innis-Jones, and I’ve always thought they liked me, but I’m hesitant to face them.

“They’re away until tomorrow,” Heather tells me, a beautiful smile blossoming on her face. “They’ve gone off for a night at a B&B.”

“That’s convenient,” I say with some surprise. “Is that why you called me today?”

“No, baby, it’s the other way around,” she replies, almost smugly. “When I told them what I was going to do, they were thrilled. They made the reservation so we would have the house to ourselves.”

I feel poleaxed. “They—were—thrilled?”

Heather grins, then bursts into laughter. “Yeah . . .” she gasps. After a moment she takes a deep breath to steady herself and says, “They’re just like Alyssa—they’ve been telling me for years that I should be with you. They think you’re wonderful, easily worth ten of any of my other boyfriends. To their credit, when I finally admitted to them they were right, they never said, ‘I told you so’—they just said they would do whatever they could to help. In this case, they figured the best thing they could do would be to get out of the way.

“Let your parents know they won’t be seeing you until tomorrow, baby—if I let you go that soon. Tonight, you’re coming home with me.”