Page 81 of One Day

I nod my head. “I do.”

“Good,” he whispers, kissing my cheek and then the tip of my nose. “I have something for you,” he tells me, lifting his hand up to my waist. “Do you want it now or later?”

“Is that even a question?”

His laugh fills my room as he reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a small velvet box. “Turn around.”

The corner of my lip pulls up as I turn to face the mirror. “So demanding.”

He shakes his head as he steps up behind me, pulling out a chain from the box and undoing the clasp. “Brat,” he mumbles against the side of my neck and moves to clasp the chain in place, his hands moving over my shoulders. I lean towards the mirror to take a closer look, grabbing what looks like a round pendant, but under further inspection, I realize it is slightly lifted in the center. My lips curl up at the sight, flicking to him and the way he’s nervously chewing his bottom lip behind me.

“It’s a cowboy hat,” I say, spinning to meet his gaze and pressing it gently into my skin.

He nods his head. “Since I can’t be with you during your presentation, this is the closest I could get,” he shares, and I’m pretty sure my heart just collapsed on itself. “If it’s lame you—”

I cut him off by pressing my lips to his, curling my fingers into his side. “I love it,” I tell him, pressing my lips to his chin and then grinning at him. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. How do you feel now? Still nervous?”

I shake my head and kiss his cheek. “I’ve got this.”

“Yeah, you do.”

“I’ll see you after, right? We’ll get dinner?”

“Adam’s and a piece of peach pie with your name on it,” he agrees, kissing me once and then a second time. His hand slides over my waist for the millionth time, like my skin is imprinted with his touch. “I’ll see you after.”

When I told Walker I had this, I meant it. The nerves had all but melted away, but now that I’m standing here, heading to the lecture hall, I am less sure of myself. With every step I take, my throat grows a little thicker, and my stomach tightens a little further. I want to be the confident version of myself that I was in my bedroom. The version of me under his warm gaze. The heat of his love on my skin.

I feel anything but sure of myself right now. It’s pulling at my skin, running down my spine and overwhelming the beating organ in my chest. Like I’m falling off the deep end, just waiting to be pulled under but the moment I’m hit with a wave of panic, I spot a familiar head of dark hair by the doorway. My stress is fading all over again.

“Dylan?” I ask, tightening my grasp on my bag. “What are you doing here?”

“I had to come see my girl in action,” he says, grinning at me. “Thought you could use some support in the audience. Soup and Fitz are inside.”

My heart swells as I look inside the hall, spotting the giant hockey players that stick out in the crowd of computer science majors “Dyl.” I smile and step into his open arms, pressing my cheek to his chest. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me. You show up at every single one of my games you can, Sunny. You show up for all of us. It’s about time we get to show up for you,” he says, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “You are my favorite person, you know that?”

“I’ve been told once or twice,” I say, stepping back. His eyes drop to the gold pendant hanging around my neck, his fingertips brushing it.

“This is new.”

“Yeah, Walker got it for me,” I say, bringing my hand up to take the pendant in between my fingertips. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?”

He nods his head as a smile takes over his face, dropping his hand back down to his side to tuck his hands into his jean pockets. “You look happy.”

“I am happy. Really, really happy.”

“Good. I’m glad, Sunny. You deserve to be happy,” he says, moving his arm around my shoulder. “How are you feeling? Nervous? Excited?”

“Both,” I say, rubbing my lips together. “But I’ve got this. It’ll be good knowing you’re in the crowd. I really, really appreciate you coming, Dyl.”

“Wouldn’t dream of missing it,” he says, moving his hand to the small of my back and ushering me through the door. “Let’s get in there. Don’t want to miss these losers' presentations.”

I roll my eyes. “You can’t call them losers just because you want me to succeed.”

“Sure, I can. You do it all the time when you’re screaming at the top of your lungs in the stands,” he says, sinking into the seat next to Fitz. “Go Dylan! Go!” he mocks my voice, throwing his arms up in the air, a wild grin taking up his face.

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