Free Love's Erotic Flower by Diane Rinella

1

    “The fires that tried to destroy us have only lit the way.”  
    The words that have just come over the PA system ring true. Six months ago today I united with my soul mate, the one everyone would say is so wrong for me—if they knew the truth. We can’t help whom we fall in love with, and even if I could, I wouldn’t change a thing about my love for Donovan.
    Now I stand in a long line of students, a few steps away from being handed my Associates Degree in Baking and Pastry Arts. The thought of staying on and earning my bachelor’s degree has scarily crossed my mind. Possibly I am foolish, as my decision was not lead by lack of either financial resources or time. The only things that drive me now are my passion for life, the desire to open my own bakery, and the one person who sits in the crowd before me, cheering me on.
    I step up to the platform, my feet slightly quivering in anticipation. It appears that this will take about twelve steps; three steps up, three to get the diploma, three more off the stage, then three down the stairs. Twelve steps, just like a rehab program, then I am free.
    “David Herbert Barker,” booms across the PA system. I inch forward, stopping just shy of the first step. Donovan sits on the end of the third row, just as I requested. His grin is so bold and adoring that I couldn’t miss seeing it if he were a million miles away. Right now, I feel like he is.
    “Janet Marie Beason,” rings across the room, and I advance up the stairs. Just nine steps left. My heart pounds in my chest in anticipation. In just nine steps the shackles will fall off.
    “Lilyanna Petula Beckett,” resounds in my head. My grin grows bold as I take three steps forward, move my tassel, and grab the diploma so eagerly I almost forget to the shake the Dean’s hand. I dash the next three steps across, then skip the remaining three by leaping down the stairs. I head straight to Donovan, who instantly knows my plan even though the words were never spoken. He greets me with open arms that I jump into, and I plant little kisses all over his face. We pull back with unrestrained grins, our eyes watery messes.
    The moment my feet hit the ground I grab his hand, and together we run off to the loaded moving van. The tires screech out of the parking lot as we head straight for the freeway. As we hit the onramp, I roll down my window, toss out my cap, and ring in my new life with a gleeful cheer.

2

    Donovan pulls the moving truck into the driveway of our new apartment, and we nearly jump out of the car due to our excitement. He’s spent every free moment working on this place to make it the best happy-little-home we can reasonably afford. Truthfully, I don’t care if it is a dilapidated old shack, as long as I get to be with him.
    As we head up the walkway, we stop and wrap our arms around each other, appreciating the moment for which we have waited so long. “It feels like this took forever,” he says, “but we finally did it. I never lost faith it would happen someday, yet the reward feels greater than I ever imagined.”
    It hurts to restrain myself from kissing him, but to take such a risk in public, even in an area where we are reasonably sure it is safe, is sadly a risk not worth taking. Instead we grab deep breaths, hold on tight, and step into our new world.

    Donovan enters the bedroom; sweat glistening on his brow while he carries a stack of boxes. He looks so damn sexy that it is hard to restrain myself. I almost don’t.
    Squatting in the corner of the room, he sets the boxes down. Damn. Why does he have to lift properly? That would look so much better if he were bent over. It’s painfully ironic that the one time I wouldn’t mind seeing a guy’s ass crack it’s the only guy in the world who actually wears a belt properly.
    Donovan turns to leave, wiping the sweat and feathery black locks from his forehead. He notices my scanning eyes and baited lips. “The view from here isn’t so bad either,”