“I’m here.”
Holy balls! He really was! It felt like way longer than just twenty-four hours since I’d seen him. I’d already gone into withdrawals. So much had happened in that time. So much still needed to happen before we could be okay. But I knew we would make things right. We’d get through it eventually; it just didn’t have to be right then. Because right then, he was actually standing there in front of me.
All I ever needed from him was him.
We stood there, staring into each other’s eyes as he spoke. “Look. I should’ve noticed that you were having a hard time out there. I should have put all those girls in their place for trying to make you feel second-rate. I should have stood up for you about that magazine cover; should have gone and kicked Fields’ ass instead of letting you think you needed to do it on your own. And I get why you made that deal. I get it now. I’m sorry you—”
“Shut up. Just shut up. You had me at ‘Damn the birds have gotten huge’.”
He looked at me in barely contained hysteria, his lips pursed together, stifling a laugh at my Jerry Maguire.
Oh, now I just needed to break him.
I exaggerated a shaky voice to repeat, “You had me at ‘Damn the birds have gotten huge’.”
At that, he cracked the hell up, and I joined him before wrapping my arms around his neck and planting a big, sloppy smooch on his laughing mouth.
Trip pulled back, his hands smoothing up and down my arms. “You’re right about how that outside stuff doesn’t mean anything. The only thing that matters is us. Screw everything else.” He brushed a hand through his hair, his eyes meeting mine in a sheepish grin to add, “We also need to stop relying on singing telegrams and Skittles and leaves on a tree to show what we should be telling each other instead. I guess I’ve always been afraid to put myself out there like that. I can jump off an exploding building, but telling you how I feel has always been even more terrifying. So I relied on things to tell you instead. If I had told you that day in your apartment… If I had just come right out and said that I loved you, you wouldn’t have had any doubts. But instead, I sent that stupid lunchbox to tell you for me.”
“If I hadn’t been so dense and insecure, I would have heard you.”
He smiled at that; a sad, happy, lopsided grin for all the things that had gone wrong between us, for all the things that had gone right. “You were right about another thing, though, Lay. You are my Rosebud. But not in the way you think. I’m not using you to try and get back to the last time my life was innocent and wonderful. Because you were a part of that, no doubt—a huge part of it—but only because I loved you then. And I love you now. You, not the slice of life you represent. I knew it that first day I saw you sitting in that desk in Mrs. Mason’s, trying not to look at me while I introduced myself to the class, and I never stopped. It’s always been you and me, Lay, and I think you know that; or you would, if you’d get your head out of your ass long enough to realize it. You know it’s true. I’m trying to get back to you. Hell, I just flew clear across the country just to tell you this in person. I’d like to think I’m gonna get some credit for it.”
I stood there staring into the pleading eyes of that incredible man, the tears streaming down my face. Aside from that whole ‘head in my ass’ thing, it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever said to me.
That was, until the next thing he said to me.
He slipped a hand around the back of my neck, holding my teary eyes fixed to his. “You were my first love, babe. I want you to be my last.”
I threw my arms around his shoulders, just bawling like a big sap into his neck. “I know you love me, Chester. I love you, too. More than anything.” I kissed him then, my heart positively overflowing for the awe-inspiring man within my grasp. His arms wrapped around my waist, lifting me to him, crushing me against his length. I pulled back, looked right into those gorgeous blue eyes and saw the truth I’d always known: “I’m not me without you.”
JULY 2006
Chapter 31
THE WEDDING DATE
I was standing there, in my blush-colored gown, staring at the sliver of glass in the door of my church, checking out my reflection. My makeup… was perfect. My hair… was cooperating for once. Over the past year, I’d learned that that’s all it took to look good: Lots of money to hire professionals.