For Both Are Infinite (Hearts in London Book 1) (30 page)

“I think so.” I looked over at him.

“Would you want to spend it with me? I was hoping we could stay at my house…I never get a tree. I’m usually out of town until the day before, but I’d love to get one and wake up together that morning.”

His eyes radiated innocence and hope, and I could tell he was nervous asking me. But what he didn’t know was how smitten I was with him, and the way he melted my heart whenever he asked sweet things like that. I could feel myself falling in love with him, sensing those sensational pangs in my heart that you get in the early stages of a relationship, the ones that make you wonder,
could this be it
? Rhys’ affection felt like a blanket surrounding me on a cold day, and he had managed to thaw the sadness that clouded me. Who in their right mind would say no to him; did he even think I could?

“I’d love to.”

His eyes lit up and he reached over to kiss me, stumbling in the back seat. It was short because his excitement spread to me and I pulled away to ask, “Can we get a real tree?”

“Yes, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“And ornaments together?”

“Yes,” he nodded enthusiastically. “So you’ll stay, for sure?”

“For sure.”

My words affected him and he pulled my hand against his lips to kiss it. Some of the lights from outside were shining in his glassy eyes and though it was hard to confirm in the darkness, I started believing that maybe Rhys was falling in love with me too. The stakes were getting higher, but I was too happy to worry about it.

∞

Things were going ridiculously well with Rhys. We were spending every weekend together, and he usually stayed at my flat once a week. We’d become comfortable in our new rhythm and hadn’t grown tired of each other either. If anything, it was never enough.

Considering our high spirits, and how strongly Rhys felt in being mine, I was taken aback to see that confidence falter the night before our trip. I grew excited to take him home, and had spoken with Anne and my mother to assure that they wouldn’t harass him or embarrass me. They knew all my secrets and I was terrified at the prospect of over-sharing on their behalf. But they promised to behave, especially my mother, who was impressed when I mentioned that Rhys would be sleeping in my room with me. She knew that we had been having sleepovers, and after I’d lived with Aaron she wasn’t under any false notions that I was a virgin. But I don’t think she expected me to be so confident with Rhys in their house.

I knew how worried he’d been too, but he also relished the idea of being the only guy to sleep in my room. It gave him this silly advantage over Aaron, and though he didn’t say it, I was aware he always felt second best to him. I just didn’t know how much till that night before our flight.

He had been showering as I printed our first class tickets, ones he had paid for, when he came out wrapped in a towel. I was used to seeing him like that, yet it still left me breathless and wanting every time. His body was strong and flawless, but his eyes were heavy, pensively empty in a way they hadn’t been before entering the bathroom. Rhys sat on my bed and pretended to check his email as I watched him from my side.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

I looked over to see him lifelessly release his phone. “I’m not sure,” he admitted.

“What is it?”

I expected him to tell me his stomach hurt, or that he was tired and had a headache, anything but what he actually felt. Rhys looked over with his lips pressed into a tight grimace. His shoulders seemed heavier as he collapsed his typically perfect posture, and after a deep breath he said, “As I showered, it hit me that I’m meeting your parents tomorrow. What if they don’t like me? What if they assume I’m some playboy taking advantage of your vulnerability?” He paused and stared down at his lap when he added, “What if I can’t compare to the boy who taught you how to love?”

His questions broke my heart. Rhys had never voiced concerns about comparisons or measuring up, but this was a side effect of dealing with my baggage. I’d subconsciously given him my memories by which to compare himself and he took it to heart, manifesting them all into this fear that suddenly became real.

My brain repeated his words multiple times, my heart tightening, aching every second as I observed his weakened features. He had shed that flawless poise I loved so much and replaced it with the most human quality
- a fear that he wasn’t enough and a desire to be wanted.

“Rhys,” I grabbed his limp hand. “Where’s this coming from?”

He was seriously concerned; his eyes were filling with tears and I wondered if there was more behind the emotion. Was I not telling him often enough how highly I thought of him? Or was it stress pouring out since he’d finished the show? I didn’t let him answer and instead tried comforting him.

“Sweetheart, you have nothing to be afraid of. My parents will love you. My mom already adores you because she sees how happy you’ve made me. They’re not going to compare you to Aaron.” I paused for a second to gather my thoughts. “The truth of the matter is, you could never compare to Aaron because you’re on a whole other level. You’re not him, you’re Rhys and
no one
is comparing.”

“You compare me…” he whispered. It was so low I almost didn’t hear it, but I heard enough and he was breaking my heart continually without even knowing. I couldn’t blame him; I’d given him dozens of examples to justify his accusation, but he needed to understand it.

“I did at first,” I admitted. “I couldn’t help it, and it still happens now and then, but the longer I’m with you, the more I become yours. It may seem I’m comparing you, but that’s because you’ve never given me the need to conceal who I am. You allow me to share everything…Honestly, I need you to please trust me when I say you don’t compare. In some ways you’ve surpassed any expectation I had.”

“Really?” he looked up at me.

“Yes, I promise. Do you believe me?”

I put my laptop aside and pressed my mouth to his, lying beside him. He nodded against my lips and pressed into me even further, lying atop me in the bed. It could have been extremely sexual with just a few movements, but his face was in my neck as he took deep, sad breaths. I could feel his apprehension in the way he gripped me. In an effort to calm him, I ran my fingers through his damp hair in the hope that he would open up and let me help him for once.

After a few minutes, he did.

“I’m not trying to freak you out. I just panicked in there…I’ve met girls’ parents before, but it’s different with you. Everything is more important…you’re important and I want to get it right.”

“Remember how you helped me relax before meeting your mum? You told me to trust you.”

“Yeah,” he nodded against my shoulder.

“Then trust me when I say my parents will love you, and Anne, she’s going to try to steal you and have your babies.”

He laughed softly against my skin with little puffs of air coming out, and then he got up to get ready for bed. It took him a while to fall asleep, even though I’d rubbed his back and read to him. Eventually though, he dozed off leaving his worries for later. I couldn’t believe that he had suddenly become troubled about meeting my parents, but then I considered that maybe he felt that way the entire time and hid it from me. I rubbed his wavy hair for a little while longer as I caught up on emails on my phone. I’d been looking through older ones and came across one of James’ from months before. We hadn't spoken since Paris and I decided to reveal that I was coming home again, and that Rhys was coming as well. It would be awkward, but I wanted to be truthful with him.

Me: I know you said you needed distance, and then I got your impolite text, but I wanted you to hear from me that Rhys and I are coming home for Thanksgiving. Hope you’re well.

I hit send and went to bed knowing I wouldn’t get a reply.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

O
ur flight was smooth and the closer we got to my parents’ house Rhys seemed to loosen up. On the car ride from the airport I asked him what had changed and couldn’t believe his answer. He told me that during the flight he watched me sleeping and realized how lucky he was. Rhys said that if I could rise from my past and learn to trust, that he had to trust life as well. That he thought he’d lose me when the show began, and then almost did when I came home. But in bringing him with me this time, he’d come to his senses realizing that I wanted him around, and that was all that mattered. And I did. I couldn’t contain myself as I showed him personal landmarks on my way home and only grew nervous when we stood at the front door.

It had been over ten years since I’d brought a boy home. I went to grab the handle and said, “Prepare yourself, my mother isn’t as contained as yours.”

He laughed, “I’m sure she’s fine.”

“Suit yourself,” and just as I opened the door my mom came bursting out of the kitchen and hugged him, before her own daughter.

She hugged him tightly before he could introduce himself or offer his hand, and it was so intrusive how she wrapped her arms around him and nestled her head into his neck. I began moving in the other direction to meet his gaze and mouthed
sorry
as I rolled my eyes, but Rhys just shook his head and scrunched his face in amusement.

He wrapped his arms around her as well and I became overwhelmed by how long she held him. She held him as if they had known each other for years but had been apart for far too long. At first I was mortified. I regretted exposing him to her crazy, but then I realized it was exactly what Rhys needed. He closed his eyes for most of the hug, but just before separating he opened them wide and looked at me. She whispered something to him, some hushed words I couldn’t make out, and he nodded into her shoulder in acknowledgment and changed.

Gone was his apprehension and concern over comparisons, and in that rash affectionate gesture, my mother brought Rhys back to himself. I wish I could have been the one to do it, but there was no way other than having him witness the acceptance for himself.

When my mother finally separated from him, she grabbed his face in her hands and said, “It’s so wonderful to meet you. I promise I’m only half as crazy as she’s told you.”

“No, that was actually a flawless greeting,” he laughed. “It’s great to meet you too. Thank you for having me.”

Just as they were saying this, my father came downstairs and said, “Oh no, is she trying to molest you? Please forgive my wife, she thinks you’re gorgeous and believes this is acceptable behavior.”

He then approached Rhys, shook his hand and pulled him into a hug as well. Rhys looked back at me as my father embraced him, smiling widely like I expected him to, and then I remembered, though biased, that I had the best parents in the world.

After they asked about our flight and caught up with me, I led Rhys upstairs to give him a breather. He carried our bags up and stunned me when I closed the door to hear him sigh once he put the suitcase down. I looked over to see him smiling with watered eyes and his hand on his chest.

“Your parents are so wonderful.”

“I was just about to apologize for my mother, that was a little crazy. I’m surprised my dad hugged you too. Was that too much at once, are you okay? Are you going to run for the hills?”

“Ellie,” his eyes opened wide, “Am I okay? I’m perfect. I can’t believe I was worried, it seems quite foolish now.”

He came over to me and grabbed my hands affectionately, staring at them for a moment before bringing them to his mouth. After kissing them, he whispered, “Thank you for bringing me with you.”

I held him, prolonging unpacking just to give him what he needed. He felt more like my carefree Rhys, like the one I’d fallen for, and after he quickly unpacked, he started making observations in my room. He looked through my bookshelf, finding my old yearbooks and graduation cap, and then moved towards the corkboard behind my door. It was covered in photos of Aaron and I, some with Anne or other friends, ones where I was much younger and my face was surrounded in baby fat. But I didn’t mind him seeing them because I knew what else was there. I pretended not to notice, hearing him mumble quietly or laugh at some of the pictures, but then I heard his hushed gasp. I knew he’d found it and looked up as he came towards me, standing on the opposite side of my bed.

“You put our picture up, the one from the boat.”

It wasn’t a question, but I answered him anyways, “I did.” And then I reached into my suitcase and took out prints from Paris and the selfies we had taken in bed. “I actually brought these too,” I said, handing them to him. “Do you think you could add them for me?”

Rhys remained quiet, came around to my side and hugged me, flattening the pictures between us.

“Happy?” I asked, and he nodded, too overwhelmed by my small deed, too pleased to see there was a place for him there despite it being his first visit. I got the sense that with his fame and hectic lifestyle, Rhys never felt that he truly belonged to anyone or anywhere. But he did with me. He had found the person that needed belonging just as much as he did and found a place within my heart.

That Wednesday night my father and Rhys bonded over the cooking and prepping for the next day. The highlight was watching Rhys stuff his first turkey, only to gag as he stuck his hand inside and pulled out the innards. We made pies together and my parents got to know him, asking about his childhood in London and his career. It was nice, natural even, and became even better when Rhys and I retired early to my room to cuddle.