Sweet Cheeks(104)

My whole body trembles from the truth in his words and the honesty in his eyes. Tears blur my vision but when I look at him, I remember the boy with gangly legs and a Star Wars obsession. I recall our first kiss and reminisce over the nerves we shared our first time together. Then I think of the few occasions he held me while I cried and the numerous times we’ve laughed so hard our sides hurt. And then I see the man he’s turned into. The considerate, funny, handsome, intelligent, romantic man he is, and I know without a doubt we can make this work.

He’s my soul mate.

There’s only one love that matters more than your first love: Your last love. How damn lucky am I that both of mine are the same person?

With that thought on my mind, I lean forward and press the sweetest of kisses against his lips. Lean my forehead against his. Close my eyes. And feel at home.

“I know you say words are cheap but those words you just said? Those words were priceless, Hayes Whitley.”

“So are you.” He wraps his arms around me and pulls me tighter into him.

“And I think long-term suits me just fine.”

“Good. Because I wasn’t taking no for an answer. I brought my A-game again, and you know how good that is.”

My laugh fills the space around us. So many things set right in our world. “About that A-game of yours . . . there seems to be some unfinished business it needs to take care of . . .”

And so by the light of the rising moon, in the place we shared our first kiss, we also share so much more with nothing more than love and possibility between us.





ONE YEAR LATER


“Where are you taking me?” I laugh out as the breeze blows against my cheeks and the ground beneath my feet becomes uneven.

“You’ll see,” Hayes murmurs, his hands covering my eyes over the scarf he’s already secured to ensure I don’t sneak a peek. “A little birthday surprise never hurt anyone.”

We’ve been driving for what feels like forever. I’d like to say I’m good with direction and which way we went, but for all I know we’ve driven in circles for hours and he’s just taken me back to the home we share nestled in the Hollywood Hills to mess with my head. I’ve tried to be patient. Tried to relax and wait for the surprise he has in store for me, and so I occupied myself thinking about the supplies I needed to order for the Brentwood store. And when I had that figured out, I moved on to the list DeeDee had sent over for the original State Street location she runs now.

Shut it down, Saylor. Enjoy the anticipation. Take in the moment. Love your man. Appreciate that Hayes is still trying to be spontaneous and do a little something special for you. Still trying to put you first despite his hectic schedule and the ridiculous demands everyone puts on him.

“Are we going to get a puppy?” There’s amusement in my voice over our long-running joke. How while a puppy is permanent, it’s also the death of so many couples once they realize how hard it is mixing two different ideals to raise something together.

“I told you, we’re not getting a puppy. I don’t need a trial run with you, Ships. I know you’re good for it whenever we decide to raise something together.”

I laugh out loud as he holds me steady when I stumble. “You mean like a sea turtle?”

“If you want to learn how to lay an egg, then be my guest. We can do sea turtles but I was thinking something more along the lines of a blonde-haired, blue-eyed little girl someday.”

“Oh. Okay.” There he goes melting my heart and leaving me speechless. The man has a way of doing that on a continual basis.

And I’m definitely not complaining.

“A few more feet.”

“Okay.” I count ten steps and wonder how many more are his definition of few since the suspense of whatever he’s up to is killing me. And as soon as I think it, he directs me to stop.

“Right here,” he says softly, almost as if he’s trying really hard to concentrate like he sometimes does when running lines. “You ready?”

I chuckle. Suddenly nervous. Was that his hands just shaking?

“Yes.”

The heat of his body leaves mine. “You can look now.”

I slowly pull off the black scarf and when I do, the sight before me takes my breath away. My mouth falls open, my eyes grow wide, and my head moves from side to side so I can take in my surroundings.

It’s so perfect, so everything, that it takes me a few moments to breathe it all in.

We’re at the base of the tree house, it’s dusk, and Mason jars hang from the tree branches with votive candles lit inside them. Fairy lights twinkle within the tree’s foliage, and are also lighting up the long wispy grass field beyond it. There are flowers too. My mother’s favorite—hydrangeas in their various colors—overflowing from galvanized and patina canisters adorned with lace and burlap bows. It’s stunning.

I’m overwhelmed and in awe and when I turn around again, I’m teary. Ryder, DeeDee, Hayes’s mom, and other mutual friends from Santa Barbara and Los Angeles are here too.

It’s like my brain is so overwhelmed by this breathtaking spectacle of perfection, that I can process the where and the what, but only after I take in the whole of the picture, can I finally process the why.

This isn’t a surprise birthday party. Not in the least.