“Thank you,” he says against my lips.
“You’re welcome.” I can feel the goofy, happy look all over my face as the warm, buzzy feelings flow through me.
He sits up. “My turn.”
“No.” My eyebrows shoot up, and my stomach flutters as nerves flood my system.
He gives me a curious look.
“Um.” My fingers twiddle together, fingertips rubbing fast circles. My eyes dart over to the tree and I point at another gift. “I have one more for you.”
“You’re spoiling me,” he says, shaking his head as he retrieves the gift I pointed to. Back on the couch, he tears the wrapping off.
It’s the photo us in the high school library, except instead of being cropped like it is on his phone background, it’s the full picture. Us sitting side by side at one of the library tables, books and papers scattered in front of us, me wearing a guarded, reluctant smile and Rory grinning ear to ear with his arm thrown around me.
Rory hums, studying the photo with a look I can’t read.
“You can put it on your shelf.” I shift under the blanket. Maybe it’s a weird gift. I should have run it past Pippa to see if he’d like this kind of thing.
He tilts the photo to me. “I liked you then.”
Flutters scatter throughout my chest. “I liked you then, too, I think.”
We smile at each other.
“I love it, Hartley. Thank you.”
He stands, walks over to the bookshelf, and positions the picture at eye-level. When he glances over at me, his mouth tilts and he winks.
“Perfect,” he says.
I could melt right into the couch, I’m so relieved and happy.
A moment later, he drops a small gift into my lap and flops down on the couch beside me, watching me with bright eyes. “Your turn.”
The box is small, barely bigger than my palm, and I tear the wrapping away to reveal a velvet jewelry box.
My pulse takes off at a sprint.
“That better not be a fake engagement ring,” I blurt out, even though I know it isn’t.
I think.
His eyes sharpen and his grin turns feline. “What if it is?”
“Rory.” My face heats and his grin widens.
“You’re so easy to fluster, Hartley.” He tilts his chin at it. “Just open it.”
The velvet is soft under my fingers as I crack it open, and inside are two sparkling stud earrings, stones the color of my eyes. My breath catches, and for a long moment, I just stare at them.
“You hate them.”
“No,” I rush out on a light laugh. “How could I hate them? They’re beautiful.”
There’s a feeling in my chest as I meet his cautious smile—a flipping, turning, rolling as Rory and I look at each other.
“Don’t say it’s too much or too expensive.” His eyes are so soft, like the velvet box in my hand. “I was thinking about you when I saw them, and I like buying things for you and making you happy.” He exhales slowly, eyes still roaming my face. “And you deserve something beautiful.”
It’s so cliche, me falling for a rich guy who loves to buy me things. I’m more evolved than this. I can buy my own damn earrings.
It’s not the cost, though. It’s that he was thinking about me. It’s the gesture, because Rory Miller is turning out to be so fucking caring and kind and sweet.
“You were thinking about me?” The corner of my mouth turns up, and I glance down at the earrings again. They really are gorgeous. I’ve never owned jewelry like this, and I’m already terrified I’ll lose them.
“Constantly,” he says, almost reluctantly, like he wishes he didn’t have to tell the truth.
My heart falls out of rhythm, excited and pleased. “These are too pretty to wear.”
“Hartley. Wear those earrings. If you lose one, I’ll buy you another. I’ll buy you ten.”
I snort. I don’t know what that means that he can basically read my mind.
“Try them on.” He settles back against the couch, finally looking at ease in his own home. “Let’s make sure they fit.”
I huff a quiet laugh as I slip the earrings out of the box and put them on. When I turn back to Rory, his eyes warm with affection.
“Gorgeous,” he says in a low voice.
“Pippa has ones like these, I think.” My heart warms at the idea of having earrings that match hers.
“Same stone, different design,” Rory says. “Same jeweler.”
He got the jeweler recommendation from Jamie. He put effort and planning into this.
My stomach flutters and I bite back a smile, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He leans forward to pick a green envelope off the coffee table before handing it to me.
My eyes narrow as I rip it open. “Another weekend away with Pippa?” I ask, wiggling my eyebrows, and he smiles to himself. I pull the paper out and read his scratchy, masculine writing.
It’s for five coaching sessions with the woman who started the body-positive dance studio in New York, the one who inspired my dreams.
My gaze whips to his. Months ago, when he was first teaching me to skate, I mentioned her once. I didn’t even say her name.
Just when I think I’ve seen all there is to see with Rory, he pulls something else out of his back pocket.
“I didn’t know she did coaching,” I breathe, rereading his card.
“She doesn’t.” He rubs the back of his neck. “But it wasn’t that hard to convince her, once I explained what you want to do and she looked at your website.”
“She looked at my website?” I chew my lip, heart beating wildly.
He nods, mouth tipping up into a cautious smile. “Did I go too far?”
My emotions pitch and swoop inside me. Even if I’m uncertain about my abilities, Rory believes in me and my dreams. No one’s ever done this kind of thing for me.
“No,” I whisper, running my finger along the edge of the card. “You didn’t go too far.”
Rory sits back, watching me, looking so handsome in the morning light, and I want to say a million things.
“Come here,” he says, and I carefully climb over so I’m straddling his lap. He’s warm under me, and I let my hands skim up his chest, up his neck, until my fingers sink into his messy hair.
“Thank you,” I whisper before I press a light kiss to his mouth. “I love it.”
He hums against my lips, a low, satisfied noise that rumbles through his chest, and I fall deeper into whatever this is with Rory Miller.
CHAPTER 63
RORY
“I should have known you’d drive something like this,” Hazel says that afternoon as I pull out of the parking garage.
I toss a grin over at her, turning on her seat warmer. “Fast, powerful, and incredibly good-looking?”
“Showy and expensive.” She snorts. “And only you would drive a car like this in the snow.”
“Hey, I have snow tires.” I change gears in the sports car, winking at her with a lazy grin as the engine purrs louder, and she rolls her eyes, hiding a smile. “Can you drive stick?”
“Nope. My dad wanted to teach us but Pippa and I both refused.”