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    Mrsgnomie
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.

Jay's Loelife - 30. The Truth in Loren's Eyes

chapter
thirty
jay

 

I set Aidan down and kneel in front of him and his super smiley face. “Why don’t you go get your daddies? I’m going to talk to Uncle Lowen for a minute, okay?”

The smile slips off his face, replaced with the ever classic eye roll. He huffs and stomps off without a word. Half way back to the living room, he whirls around on his heels, putting his hands on his hips in the classic I’m-highly offended stance. “Mugget can’t stay neever. It’s not fair.”

Carson is staring wide-eyed at Loren like he’s about to sprout a second head.

I do a double-take. “Why’s he looking at you like that?”

Loren returns Muggy’s stare, then smiles when Carson’s eyes widen. The little guy looks at me like, who is this guy? Then he turns back to Loren because you never take your eye off the enemy.

Loren kisses the side of his head and hands him off to Seamus, who’s trying his best to look nonchalant.

Even as he’s hauled away, Carson is still watching.

“I’m starting to get a complex.” Loren is watching Carson, holding eye contact. “He looks a lot like Seamus. Even nails me with the same unimpressed stare.”

But he secretly loves it. I know it.

That familiar feeling fizzles around in my chest. That feel good tingle I get when Loren does cute stuff. If I’m not careful, he’ll use that to his advantage. He will swoop in and distract me, maybe even ruin my resolve.

I gesture to the door. “Walk?”

He sucks in a breath and rubs his palms against his thighs, but he nods and opens the door anyway. The ride to the lobby is silent, as are the first few blocks. I stick my hands in my pockets. I’m usually the one who instigates this stuff, but I can’t. Not this time. It’s his turn. I love this man more than I’ve loved anyone in my entire life, but that’s not always enough.

The thing about Loren is this: he’s not always great at communicating with words, but he can’t stop communicating with his eyes.

When Loren first came to the house after the fight, he brought his bedroom eyes. They were heated and sexy and I knew he wasn’t there to fix things. He was there to fuck his way through an apology. When he came with the U-Haul, he brought his determined eyes. He wasn’t sorry as much as he was tired of getting the cold shoulder.

Now he’s got eyes I’ve never seen. They’re determined but terrified. It’s a start.

“There’s a lot I need to say, but I’m afraid you’ll tell me to go home.” Loren pins me with another look I’ve never seen. Self-doubt.

“I won’t tell you to go home.”

He rotates his neck back and forth like he needs to prepare for whatever's coming the same way he might prepare for a jiu jitsu match. All that’s left is a few leg stretches and knuckle popping and he’ll be good to go. I smile inwardly. Of course that’s how Loren would tackle something like this.

“I know why you rejected my first attempt. It was shit, I get it. The flowers were another half-ass, lame showboat maneuver. Although I’m happy so many others benefitted from my fuck up, so it wasn’t a total waste. It took me a while to figure out why you sent me packing when I showed up with the U-Haul, but I understand.”

I look at him, not knowing what I expected to see. I was surprised when his eyes reflected his sincerity. I nod, prompting him to continue.

“You asked me what I wanted, and I answered ‘if living with you will make you happy, then it will make me happy’. It was never about making each other happy, though, was it? It was about doing things for the right reason.”

“What’s the right reason, Loren?” I hold my breath, waiting for his answer.

Those beautiful brown eyes lock with mine. “It has to be something I want, not just for myself, but for both of us.”

My smile could light up Denver’s electric grid for a month. I reach for his hand, pulling him close to ghost my lips over his.

“You know, your grand U-Haul gesture would’ve gone over better if it wasn’t full of statements like ‘If I’d have known you’d get so upset, I would’ve just agreed in the first place.’ You almost had me until then.” I wink.

“Do I have you now?”

“You’ve always had me.”

Loren smile, making my chest squeeze. Goddamn I love him.

“From now on we communicate, I mean really communicate. No more backing each other into a corner.”

“I did feel cornered when living together was first brought up. That doesn’t mean I’m opposed to it. It’s—” he rubs his face and lets out a harsh, frustrated breath. “It’s like this,” he explains. “Last week, after you sent me packing, I was walking around the house. I was irritated. But you were right, my motivation wasn’t…where it should’ve been. I packed that U-Haul simply to make it stop. When it didn’t work, I moped around the house, licking my wounds. Woe is Loe. I was willing to give all this up for you and you said no. Go home, Loren.

“Give up what? What were you willing to give up?”

“My work.”

“I-I don’t understand. Why would you think you needed to do that?”

“Getting famous on YouTube wasn’t all glory. I mean, it was at the time. I loved the attention. All of it. I loved the money. Isaac’s parents did a decent job of protecting us from the windfall, but once I was emancipated, I went a little crazy. By the time I was eighteen, I had more debt than I had money. I almost filed for bankruptcy until Mike and Julia convinced me things weren’t that dire. The money was coming in. I just needed to stop how much was going out. With their help, I got the spending under control. I had to sell a bunch of stuff to get there, which was embarrassing.

“When I was nineteen, I bought my house. I was determined to do life right. I remember sitting in the little room at the escrow company waiting for them to bring the documents in. I promised myself that this was a new start for me. I was an adult, and I was going to be a fucking badass one who would never need anything from anyone. While I was licking my wounds last week, I looked at all the things I’ve done to the house. All the failures and all the successes. I grew into who I am while in that house. I know it sounds stupid, but when you said you wanted to live together, I panicked. I liked what we had going because I got all the good shit that comes with being with you, but I had the…” he chews his lip as he searches for the right explanation.

“I thought it was freedom that I had at home, but there was nothing free about it. It was nothing more than a safety net. I got all the good from you, but I still had my house, which was something no one could take from me. It was my independence and more than that, it was proof that I didn’t need anyone. And out of nowhere you were like, ‘uh, trash that’. I felt like you were attacking the one stable thing I have. But I realized ‌the house isn’t what brings me stability and there’s nothing wrong with needing someone. This house is just a house, but you’re my home. So—”

Loren stops. He doesn’t do anything, he just looks around.

“Do you know you light up when you talk about Denver? Whenever you’re coming here, you always forget shit because you’re in a hurry. It’s the only place that has that effect on you.”

And yeah, he’s not wrong. I’ve always been drawn here.

“Aidan, Carson, and I drove around after the meeting today. We saw the entire city. Well, they slept, but I saw the city. And…I want to move here with you.” He slips his fingers in mine and pulls me across the street through the pedestrian entrance to a gated community.

“I want us to buy a house here,” he says, sweeping his arms wide to encompass the whole neighborhood. “I don’t know where Will and Scott live, but this is really close to Matt and Seamus. Aidan and Carson could come over any time they want.”

Holy shit. My heart is about to beat out of my damn chest. I take a breath to keep that from happening. “What about your work?”

“We’ve talked a lot about keeping the future open. I’m ready to do something different.”

Vulnerable, soft brown eyes watch me. Sincere. He means it. He doesn’t just want to move in together; he wants to move to Denver together. My chest tightens and my smile grows without my consent.

I swing our hands and look around at all the homes. They’re really nice. Decent size. I can definitely see settling down here. I yank him behind me as I march around. I want to see every single home.

It takes us a while. The houses are on huge lots. There are three homes for sale. Two of them definitely have our interest. There’s another that’s not for sale. Of course Loren is drawn to it. It’s on the largest lot, with a big treehouse and a zipline. He lingers, staring at it. Even after looking at others, he keeps finding his way to it.

On the way back to the loft, Loren leans in to me. We’re still holding hands, which isn’t something he’s big on in public. Another step in the right direction.

“There is something we need to talk about,” Loren says, hesitating only the slightest.

“Of course. I’m all ears.”

“I’m not totally against marriage. I mean, at some point. Probably pretty far out, but I want you to know it’s not a hard no.”

“Okay, wow. That’s good to know.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever change my mind about kids. I want to want them because it’s something you desire, but I can’t seem to get that piece to fit. The uncle thing is something I can definitely do. I love it, actually. But I don’t think kids of my own is going to happen.”

“I was never going to try and convince you to have kids—”

“I want to believe you, but it’s hard not to feel pressured. When Carson was born, you wouldn’t touch him. I know you were trying to protect me, but all I could see was what you were giving up.”

“I didn’t hold him because every time I did anything remotely gushy with kids, you made it a point to tell me not to get any ideas. Just like you did at the wedding. It put me in a weird position where I felt like I had to choose between my nephews or your mental health—my friends’ monumental moments like getting married and having kids or your mental health.”

“Oh.” Loren looked as if he hadn’t considered that.

“Would I say yes to kids if you changed your mind? In a heartbeat. But believe me when I tell you, just as I have told you before, I’m perfectly content being an uncle. I love it. I love it so much. I love Aidan and Carson. I can’t wait for Derek and Danielle’s baby, and for baby Mya—”

Loren stops and grips my forearm. He smiles like he’s got a big secret. “Lars and Courtney are pregnant. Probably pregnant,” he corrects. “She’s late, but they haven’t tested. They’ve been trying.”

“Perfect. We will be professional uncles. We’ll travel around the States babysitting. We can host a cousin camp every summer. It will be great.”

“You’re really okay with not having kids?”

“I am. That’s not to say I couldn’t be convinced to start a family if you should ever change your mind.” I wink to let him know I’m teasing. “I’m over the moon just being an uncle, especially if I’m uncling with you.”

It’s a great thought, isn’t it? Traveling uncles. I love it. I yank Loren forward and kiss him. He opens, his tongue sliding against mine.

I pull back. He has love-drunk eyes. I love how dopey he gets when we kiss like that. He’s had sex with a lot of guys, but no one has ever kissed him the way I kiss him. That’s something only we share. You have to love someone a lot to get those eyes, and they're all mine.

I preen a little on the way back. Not to be that person, but I got Loe Patrick. He’s mine. He begged to be taken back. Not only that, he wants to uproot his life for me.

I don’t know what Loren sees on my face, but he cracks up. “What are you being smug about?”

“I got you to grovel,” I tease.

“I did not grovel.”

“And propose.”

“I definitely didn’t propose.”

“You basically did. You said, and I quote, ‘I’m not totally against marriage.”

He rolls his eyes. “Oh boy…

I smile as we walk towards the loft. As soon as we’re in the elevators, I pull him close. “I didn’t expect you to come to the meeting today.”

“I have good ideas for the coffee shop. Even if you kicked me to the curb, I wanted to get my ideas out there. I’ve seen what Matt and Seamus consider creative…”

“They’re not so bad.”

“Their best ideas should be used to keep the business running…behind the scenes.”

****

Seamus and Matt look up from where they’re huddled on the sectional with two boys, one of which is engrossed in a movie. They smile at our joined hands. Matt a little more so, which leads me to believe he’s the reason I just had to get on a flight to Denver ASAP to deal with some mysterious ‘technicality’.

“It was Seamus.” He caves at the first glare cast his way, spilling like a full cup of juice Aidan doesn’t need help with.

Seamus shrugs and points between Loren and I. “Technicality.”

Loren lets go of my hand and walks across the apartment. When he gets to Seamus, he extends his knuckles. “Thanks.”

Seamus bumps him. “Don’t mention it.”

“Take out?”

“Sounds good.”

And that's that. I laugh. Those two are similar in so many ways. They could be best friends if they gave it a chance.

Aidan sits at the table with Loren. The takeout menu is flat on the table while Spudman points at everything. “And I want dat. And dat. Oh, dat!” I don’t think he has any idea what he’s pointing at.

While he and Aido order dinner, I sway a crazy haired Carson on my hip. “And what do you want for dinner? Similac sensitive or…Similac sensitive?”

I’m only gifted with the briefest flick of his attention before he’s back to staring down Loren. It’s hilarious, the way his eyes track Loren anytime they’re in the same room. Loren thinks it’s because Carson hates him. I think it’s because he’s enamored.

To test a theory, I call for Loren.

He looks up, his brows raised as he waits for me to say whatever it is I need to say.

Carson thinks the sudden attention is for him and he slams his head into my shoulder, burying himself. He peeks out. The corner of his lip curls into a bashful smile.

“Carson…are you lookin’ at me?” Loren’s tone is teasing and light. “You better not be lookin’ at me.”

Carson buries his head in my neck again, and he clings to me. His legs squeeze around my waist like a vise grip before kicking my ribs like I’m an old nag he’s trying to spur forward. He peeks at Loren again.

“Carson…”

Giggle.

“Are you teasin’ me?”

The little guy wiggles nervously in my arm as Loren tiptoes, none-to-subtly, toward us. My heart can’t handle all the cuteness. And then Loren pounces, tickling and kissing Carson all over until he’s a giant mess of giggles and wiggles. I can barely keep a hold of him. When Loren retreats ‌to the table to finish ordering dinner, Carson whines, reaching out to Loren with a grabby hand.

Now Loren’s at the table with Carson in one arm while Aidan tries to order the entire menu.

Aidan claps his hands. “I love it when the chef adults to make the pizza.”

I tilt my head. “The what? Who else makes the pizza?”

“The home adults.”

Seamus chuckles at his kiddo. “No clue what he’s talking about. We’ve never made pizza at home.”

“We should make pizza next time we’re together,” Loren says. “I have a great dough recipe and a pizza oven. It would be fun.”

I look at Loren with the same expression Seamus just used to look at Aidan. Pure confusion. “You have a pizza oven?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Okay.” I chuckle. “One homemade pizza night coming up.”

Aidan sighs and rolls his eyes. “Did nobody hear’d what I said?”

“Home adults can make good pizza. So can home kids,” Loren says. “You’ll see.”

Carson is back to staring at Loren with great concern, as if he’s not completely enamored with him. But he won’t let Loren put him down, not even when the food comes. So Loren has to swap between eating his pizza and feeding Carson his baby food.

“He’ll starve if you don’t,” I say. I just want to see him do it.

With dinner cleaned up, we get the boys in bed. Quite the adventure when one is too excited to sleep alone, and the other doesn’t want Loren to put him down.

“Uncle Jay, c’mere!” Aidan yells from his bed.

“What’s up?”

“Put your cheek on my arm and I’ll put mine on yours, and we can have a snuggle party.” This is after thirty minutes of begging for us to sleep with him.

“No snuggle party tonight.”

“Pweeeese?”

I shake my head and tuck him in. “I already promised Uncle Loren a snuggle party.”

Aidan huffs but wiggles down in his bed anyway. By the time everyone cycles through with their third or fourth round of goodnight kisses, Aidan is a soft smile and droopy eyed bed burrito.

Loren lifts a brow as Aidan’s dads finish tucking him in. He didn’t miss the snuggle comment, though his eyes say there’s a lot more than just snuggling on the dessert menu. As we leave Aidan’s room, I can honestly say my intentions are pretty innocent. I just want to make out a little, but when Aidan’s bedroom door shuts, Loren pulls me in and pushes against the hall wall so hard and I’m afraid we might go through it.

A throat clears beside us. “Oh, okay.” Matt sounds scandalized. “We’ll just—”

Loren swings me around and shoves me into the guest room before Matt can finish. We’re out of our clothes and on the bed in seconds. Loren crawls on top of me and seductively shifts his hips, grinding against me while touching himself. It’s hot how needy he is.

The bed squeaks something fierce, so I wrap my arm around his waist and roll us to the floor, making a mental note to tell Seamus to fix it.

Loren nudges his ass against my dick and smiles. “Are you going to fuck me?”

“I was thinking it would be a little more romantic if…”

“Fine.” He roles us over so I’m on top and wraps his legs around my waist. “Is this better? More romantic?”

The answer is no. Just because I’m on top doesn’t make it romantic, but I laugh at his gesture anyway. Then I cup his face because not doing so is a crime. I could get lost in those brown eyes. So telling and raw.

I’ve missed him. Every day we were apart, I grew more and more anxious. I want to spend the rest of my life with Loren, and I would do just about anything to make it happen. But I can’t do everything.

The look in his eyes tells me it will be okay.

Loren stretches his arm out, his fingers struggle to reach the strap of his bag, which dangles from the luggage tray. When he gets it, he gives it a tug, making it come tumbling down. Loren tugs it closer. Of course he packed the goods.

He grins triumphantly. “It’s my travel bag.”

What Loren wants, Loren gets. He barely lets me get him ready before he uses his thighs to pull me where he wants me. His back arches when I press into him. His head twists, exposing his neck and jaw. I kiss the soft curve as I thrust into him. His eyes flutter open.

He’s got happy eyes; soft brown and filled with the sweet relief of forever.

****

I fly back to California first thing in the morning. Real work waits. A cameo on The Late Show. A few morning show interviews. I even meet with Josh about the portrait piece he wants to do. I decided to decline in person.

I shoot off a text when I get home, to let Loren know he can come over whenever. I pull a container of food out of the refrigerator and reheat it while I wait.

The food still has a minute or so left to go when the doorbell rings. I’m surprised he didn’t come through the garage like he normally does.

Oh shit.

Loren smiles shyly when I open the door. He pulls his hand from behind his back and brandishes a bouquet of flowers.

Oh.” I don’t know what else to say. I stare at them. They’re ugly. They’re more than ugly, they’re sparse and wilted. Most of the petals have abandoned ship.

“I bought them at the airport after the wedding. I was going to give them to you as like, a grand gesture or something. It’s stupid now that I think about it.” He looks at the pathetic bouquet and frowns. “It was the first time I ever bought someone flowers. I felt so stupid. Not as stupid as I feel now. Trying to give you a bunch of dead flowers—” he shakes his head and gives the bouquet one last look, then cocks them back and aims for the bushes.

I grab his hand. There’s no way in hell I’m going to let him chuck them. I hold the pathetically wonderful flowers. “Thank you.”

His neck blooms a cute shade of pink. I press the mostly dry flowers to my chest and open the door for him.

“In my defense,” he says as he walks past me. “They were dying when I bought them. I tried to make their last days the best I could. Floral hospice.”

“You’re practically a horticulturist.”

Loren considers it for a second. “I guess I am.”

“So, Mr. Horticulturist, what do I do with these?”

He looks at the flowers and laughs. “Oh, those are definitely a lost cause. You should probably throw them out.”

Not on his life.

****

Given Loren’s track record, I fully expected a sizeable gap between his generous and completely unexpected request to move to Denver and actually moving to Denver. Granted, we’re not moving yet, but he is taking his new role as live-in boyfriend to a new level. One I like very much. I’ve gotten a peek at the ‘full steam ahead’ Loren who catapulted himself from a tween boy to a mega influencer.

Loren: I’m doing laundry… #domesticated AF

One glance at his text and I burst out laughing. Oh, I’m sure he’s doing laundry. Just like he ‘mopped the floors’ two days ago and ‘cleaned the bathroom’ the week before that.

With a grin the size of Loren’s following, I get out of the SUV and I stroll through the garage. Halfway to the laundry room, I turn on my heel and head back, locking the door just in case. A lesson learned the hard way.

Loren’s standing in the laundry room surrounded by poorly folded towels. He’s leaning on the counter with his phone in hand, scrolling through social media, his hip cocked.

Naked. Which is how all of his chores have gone to-date.

I lean against the door frame and smile. “All your clothes dirty?”

He startles. Dropping his phone, he quickly picks up a towel and folds it like he’s been doing that this whole time. Once the towel is folded, just as lopsided as the rest, he turns to me. His eyes rove every inch of my body.

He bites his lip and saunters closer.

Loren runs his hands down my chest, brushing at an imaginary spot. “Your shirt is dirty. I should probably wash that.” He grabs the hem and pulls it up and over my head. Then he moves to my fly. “Since I’m doing laundry…” His voice is nothing but a purr as he drops to his knees, pulling my pants down with him. I’m already half hard from his text. He’s made the term ‘domesticated AF’ erotic. The last two weeks of housework have been X-rated.

I rake my fingers through his hair, yanking his head back a little as he teases me. His lip curls and his tongue darts out. Being watched is a power play for him. A skill he’s honed over the years, on camera, and off. I’m his prey, helpless to his advances.

Loren teases me with his tongue before finally taking me in deep.

Weak, I stumble back, catching myself on the counter. My body trembles and legs shake as Loren sucks, pushing me over the edge until I cum in his mouth.

His tongue twirls gently around my tip, and I shiver. “Laundry isn’t so bad.”

I laugh. “Adding to it isn’t the hard part.”

Laundry doesn’t get done and the towels don’t get put away. Loren barely tosses my pants and shirt in the washer before he strolls out of the laundry room, his ass flexing and dick swaying with each step.

Domestication looks good on him.

Laughing at the change in Loren, I quickly load detergent, start the washer, then run after him. I catch up as he reaches the top of the stairs. I wrap one arm around his chest and one hand around his dick. “You like living together, don’t you?”

He moans.

I slide my free hand up, framing his jaw. I tilt his head and run my tongue up his neck. “Say it. Tell me you like it.”

“I love it. I love living with you.”

Kissing his neck and jerking his dick, I walk him to the bedroom until he’s bent over the bed and panting. I pin him there as I work him over with my fingers. When he’s ready, I force his legs apart.

I press against him. “Who have you lived with?”

“No one.” He hisses at the pressure.

I work the head in. “Are you gonna ask me to marry you?”

He presses his face into the mattress and moans.

I tilt his head so I can see him. “Not right now, but one day, right? One day you’re going to ask me.”

He nods. “Yeah. I’ll ask you—ohhh fuck.” is words are cut off as I press deeper, inch by inch, until I’m all the way in.

The same way he worked his way into my life.

****

Marcus: Linette Richards listed for Jorge and Becks. Had dem cribs sold in 90 days.
Shawn: I used her with my last house. She’s more north area. I’d look at Ben Watson for your area

As I wait for Ben’s website to load, I glance at Loren through the maze of lighting and film equipment. He’s walking everyone through what will be our dinner tonight. Some sort of chicken dish. I bite my lip. He’s not just a natural in front of the camera, he’s an amazing teacher. Every time I watch him work, I’m amazed at how he can take something complex like welding a trailer frame or installing a lift in his van, and break it down in terms that anyone can understand.

That talent, however, doesn’t crossover to domesticated stuff like laundry, no matter how hard he tries.

And now he’s a real estate guru. Kind of. He has to finish all the projects first, but he’s got ideas for selling his house.

I shoot an email to Ben, asking to schedule a meeting, then I continue watching Loren. It’s so easy. I could do it for hours. When he leans forward, rambling off topic like he’s talking to a friend, his muscles flex under his tight shirt and it’s no wonder he has forty-two million followers.

When the dish is done, he points at me, then crooks his finger. A spot for two, worthy of the finest dining, awaits. Folded napkins, cutlery, and all the drinkware. Date night looks a whole lot different with millions of people watching.

When the food is gone and the camera is off, Loren leans in and kisses me, his lips soft and tender against my cheek. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For doing all this. You’ve never once made me feel like what I do is intrusive. Since the beginning, you’ve taken all of this—” he gestures to the equipment, “—in stride.

“It never feels intrusive. There is plenty of stuff the public never sees. You’ve struck a good balance.”

He shrugs. “Still, this isn’t the kind of life everyone can tolerate.”

It hardly seems like an inconvenience. Either that or the payoff is just that good. I grab his hand and kiss it. He rolls his eyes a bit at the sappy gestures, but then he grins, so I know it’s not too bad.

I squeeze his hand and smile awkwardly. The kind of smile that’s less affectionate and more of a warning. “So, I did a thing.”

“Oooo. Sounds ominous.” He doesn’t seem concerned.

“I reached out to our realtor in Denver and had them inquire about the house on the end lot.”

Loren stills. He watches me carefully. It’s the only house he loved. The way his eyes light up when he thinks about it is all I needed to know. It’s his dream house.

“We put an offer on it.”

“Oh, we did?”

“Yeah. It’s a bit over market value, but they accepted.”

All his playing it cool flies out the window. His jaw drops. I don’t think he thought the house was an option. “Seriously?”

“What can I say? The husband is a big Jay Petermeyer fan.”

He puts his head in his hands as he takes the news in. When he sits back up, his eyes are shining. “This past month I’ve stressed a lot, worrying that I jumped the gun. Not about living with you,” he says in a hurry. “But about Denver. I’ve considered not selling my house, just in case. But that fear is just me doing what I do best, looking out for myself. We’re supposed to be in Denver. I’ve known it for a while. I definitely felt it when we were there last. I thought I felt it with that house. When I saw it for the first time, I saw possibilities. Except it’s not the house, it’s you. All the possibilities are with you. The house is the shell of what we’ll build together. A good shell, one I’ll pay any price for, but—what I’m trying to say is—” He clenches his teeth, then stops, and lets a big breath out. “I see no other future for me than the one I have with you.”

Once again, I’m blown away by the new maturity Loren shows. Every day he proves that he’s in this for forever. Every day I love him more, if that’s even possible.

“Let’s go home, Loren.”

A few more chapters left.

Don't forget to like, comment, and hit the blue recommend button so others can enjoy this story! A nice way to show love for any author.

Copyright © 2022 Mrsgnomie; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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