Outtake: Three Little Words #TommasandAbriella
Hey, loves!
We’re back for another outtake, and this time, I pulled from the form. This request has been in the pile for a hella long time - like really, really, really long, but I think you get the point. I never picked it until now, if only because I really hadn’t figured out a way I wanted to tell this specific event for Abriella and Tommas happening. And sometimes, when it’s been forever and a day since I wrote a couple, like these two, they’re not as loud to me and it takes me a bit to work something out for them when they’re just not talking.
In case you missed it last week, I opened the outtake form again for requests. And so, if you have an outtake request for me, please drop it in HERE.
Note: If all you do is put a character name, it absolutely will be deleted. Give me details of what you would like to see from that character, but don’t drop me a single name and expect me to just have magical fingers that create something for them on the spot. My outtakes aren’t like my books, sometimes I have set ideas in place for these outtakes, and I write them as I want to, and sometimes I write based on what a reader has asked to see.
With all that said, onto the outtake.
*
Three Little Words
Tommas POV
“Ella.”
Wearing nothing but one of his t-shirts, and a pair of black cotton panties, she spun on her heels with a wet whisk dangling precariously from one hand. He thought, possibly, she might splatter the egg mess still coating the wires of the whisk all over the island counter as she stared across at him, but he didn’t really care about that.
It was hard to care about anything else but her when she stared at him. All he needed was her attention, and just like that, the rest of the world disappeared. Did it make sense? Did it constantly drive him fucking crazy?
Did he always wonder why?
Yes to all.
And then he figured it out.
All at once.
Staring at her while she cooked them scrambled eggs in an apartment that wasn’t even technically his or hers. At least, not on paper. Their names couldn’t be on the apartment he rented in the city for them to sometimes sneak away because otherwise, someone might find out their little secret.
The fact they did this together at all.
It wouldn’t end well.
Couldn’t.
Instead, he used a fake name and matching IDs to get the place. That way, if someone looked into his business, this wasn’t one of the things that would come up. The two of them could remain like this in their private, secret bubble that no one could touch.
For now.
“Yeah?” Abriella asked.
Always sweet.
And yet, with a touch of slyness, too.
Sexiness.
Her smile curved at the edges, drawing those pretty lips of hers into a shape he had come to adore. Her eyes crinkled a bit at the corners, too. And the apples of her cheeks popped with a touch of pink.
That’s how he knew her smiles were real.
Other people seemed content to ignore the fake ones she plastered on for the sake of politeness and what was expected of her. Tommas was not the same. He decided it would be a much better pay off for him if he took the time to peel back all the layers of what made Abriella Trentini tick; find every single one of her secrets that made her her. And once he learned all those things, Tommas just didn’t know what to do with it.
Because it only taught him one thing.
He loved her.
Wholly.
Entirely.
Stupidly.
“Do you have something to say, or are you going to just keep looking at me?” Abriella asked.
“I love you, Ella.”
There.
He said it.
Couldn’t take it back now.
Definitely couldn’t change it.
Abriella’s loose stance stiffened up a bit. “We said we weren’t going to do that, Tommy. Why would you do that?”
She was right. Months ago, lying in bed together after managing to finally sneak her away from the rest of her family for a night, she’d whispered in the darkness that I can’t fall in love with you—don’t fall in love with me, Tommy. It made sense, of course, because this was only supposed to be fun.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
Except when she whispered those words in the darkness, still sweaty from the way he’d held her against the mattress and made her come again and again, he heard the shake in her voice. Felt that right to his bones. And what it meant for his own heart.
He heard and felt it all.
She loved him then.
He loved her, too.
“And if we do love each other,” she had added that night after her first statement, “then we won’t say it out loud—it won’t hurt.”
Again … that made sense.
And then he watched her dance, and cook.
Smile at him over her shoulder.
He wished he could give her the world.
That felt like it started with three little words.
“I love you,” he said.
He didn’t miss the way her hand shook, still holding that whisk. Or how a line of water dampened her eyes. That smile of hers faded away slowly because he broke the rules she’d made, and fuck …
Fuck.
He wished he was sorry for it.
Wished it wouldn’t be hard for her.
But he still wanted to give her the world.
Maybe not today.
Or tomorrow.
Or next year.
Someday, he’d figure out a way.
And he’d give her the world.
Their world.
Together.
“Not supposed to say that,” she whispered. “We said we weren’t going to—”
“We break rules all the time.”
Abriella sucked in a breath. “Tommy—”
“Still going to love you. Whether or not you say it back, or if you need to run. Today, tomorrow … whenever, still going to love you, Ella.”
“Killing me here.”
He shrugged one shoulder, grinning. “Just wanted you to know.”
“I just wanted to make you eggs.”
“And?”
“And then you had to change everything.”
Tommas shook his head. “Changes nothing. I only stated the obvious.”
That made her pause.
Why?
Because he didn’t lie.
Tommas did a lot of things.
Lying wasn’t one of them.
It was her that found comfort in lies.
She lied to the people closest to her.
To everyone else.
Even to herself.
Never to him, though.
She never lied to him.
“I wanted to pretend for a little while longer,” she said.
Tommas arched a brow. “Pretend what?”
“That this wasn’t going to end with my heart broken.”
“It’ll never end, if you don’t want it to.”
Abriella shook her head. “You can be the optimist, Tommas, but I’ll forever be the pessimist.”
“As long as you’re the pessimist that loves me.”
“You know I do. I think I’ve always loved you.”
Yeah.
The world.
How did one give the world to someone who had become your world, anyway? He should probably figure that out.
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