Free At Last by Billy London

make sure I never forget your name. But you know, for me, it was beyond amazing.”
    He reached across the table, catching my hand suddenly to squeeze my fingers tightly. “You are so fucking sweet. I don’t get what I did to deserve you.”
    Why did I feel like I was about to get dumped? “You think you don’t deserve me?”
    “Not in the slightest.” He swept his thumb over my knuckles before releasing me.
    “Why’s that then?”
    He speared his hand through his hair. “You…you are Galliano talented, you sing like Skin, you’re incredibly generous…and you’ve got knockers that a man can only dream about.”
    “You’re being utterly silly,” I admonished.
    “But mainly, I feel like I don’t deserve you because you haven’t let any dirty old codger touch you. Except me.”
    “You’re not old,” I teased, but caught on that he was weirdly upset about this. “You know why that is, though.”
    He took his bottom lip into his mouth, thinking. “Yeah, I do.”
    Okay, he was clearly dumping me. I shouldn’t have said anything; I knew I should have just kept it to myself. “You want to back off, don’t you?”
    He looked up sharply. “Court…”
    “No, no. I get it. It’s too much for a man to take. You know, the virginity thing, the other thing, you know, that ‘l’ word thing. I’d run a mile too.”
    “Babe, you’re not…”
    I tried to force the lump from my throat. First day of being an ex-virgin was really starting to suck. And not in a good way. “What?”
    His gaze locked to mine, and my heart jolted. “You have got to have some perspective about me.”
    I looked away, folding my arms around my waist. I really should have put on more clothes. I felt ridiculously exposed in my bra and pants, in the stark light, my newfound muscles protesting at any movement that wasn't tantamount to rigor mortis. “That’s a mean thing to say.”
    “It’s true.”
    “You’re playing this all wrong, you know,” I said, distancing myself from the possibility that he didn’t love me anymore. He was just being stupid. “I’m a girl who thinks the sun shines out of your arse. Embrace it and don’t question it.”
    “You were doing the same thing!” he mocked. “From about three emails in, you were thinking that.”
    Well hell on a breadstick, he knew me too well. “But I stopped, didn’t I?” I tilted my head so I was in his eye line. “Ryan, I’m starry eyed about you for good reason.”
    “It’s nothing to do with you,” he started, stroking a hand over my forearm. “It’s me.”
    “Oh my God. I am going to hit you!” I threatened at such utter nonsense emerging from my boyfriend’s throat.
    “Don’t start with the violence. Look, everything’s working out for me, for both of us. I just want to be ready in case it goes Pete Tong.”
    “You’re being ridiculous,” I warned him. “And if you ever say ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ ever again, your luck will end because you will be dead.”
    He chuckled. “Okay, I’m sorry. Can you come over here?”
    I circled the table and he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me down onto his lap. He sighed deeply, resting his forehead against mine. “I’m not perfect,” he told me, caution in his eyes.
    “I know,” I admitted, drawing the back of my hands over his face. “I know now, anyway! We’ll be okay.”
    He gripped me tighter. “Let’s go air guitar before you have to go to work.”
    He carried me off into the living room, where he put on American Anthems , and we did air guitar like we were playing for U2. There was a point where we looked at each other while I was bellowing to Heart’s “Alone,” and it occurred to me that he had a point. Usually when things were this good, something came along to destroy it.

Chapter Seven
     

    We got into a pretty tight routine. I would stay with him every other day, as Selene’s studio was closer to Ryan’s home. He gave me my own set of keys. I nearly had a heart