Page 78 of My Best Years

Callum

I lean over my kitchen table, lighting a brand-new candle that I placed in the center of it.

For the first time in my adult life, I bought a fucking candle today. I’m a guy who lives alone, which is why I’m paranoid that Birdie will walk in and think my place smells like shit when I probably couldn't tell the difference. On top of that, I have a dog who loves to play in the ocean. So yeah, I’m trying to avoid Birdie thinking that my place smells like a combination of dude and wet dog.

It’s hard to believe that tonight is finally here. It’s only been three days since I was at Birdie’s apartment, but it feels more like an eternity. All I can think about is being with her. It consumes my every waking minute.

After she texted me her availability Saturday morning, I was on the fence about asking her over to my place for dinner. Not because I have any hesitations about her coming here, but because I want her to feel comfortable. We haven't talked aboutwhat we are or where this is going, and I want to make sure I’m moving at her speed. The last thing I want to do is scare Birdie away when I just got her back.

But God, it took all my strength not to lean forward and taste her lips at her apartment. I wanted to so fucking bad. I had never wanted anything more. It didn’t help when she rolled her hips, stroking my very obvious erection with her half-dressed body.

Looking back, it was for the best that a work call interrupted us. Because we were skating the line of dangerous territory. If she wouldn't have stopped me, I would have had her naked in less than two seconds. I would have ripped those tiny shorts and bra from her sweaty body and taken her on the living room floor. That’s how close I was to losing control.

And as hot as that would have been, she deserves better than that. If I get the chance to sink inside Birdie for the first time in over ten years, I want it to feel like a sacred promise. I want her to know with every thrust of my hips that I will never leave her again. I want Birdie to know deep in her soul that she’s the love of my life. The only woman who’s ever had my heart.

The flame swaying back and forth in the candle pops, pulling me back to reality.

Overwhelmed is an understatement for how I felt roaming around the candle store. There were so many choices, sizes, and colors. I had no clue what the hell I was doing. One of the employees was kind enough to help me settle on a neutral scent that smells like fresh linen.

I’ve been pacing around like a caged animal all day, strung up with nerves and excitement. I’ve cleaned every surface of the house at least five times, and at this point, Birdie’s going to think that a Lysol bomb exploded when she walks in. But at least the place will smell and look clean.

I’m usually a simple guy when it comes to clothes, but I’ve already changed three times today. At first, I had on a pair of slacks and a button-up shirt, but I quickly decided against it when I realized I was dressed for a Brazilian steakhouse, not a relaxed dinner at home. After that, I put on shorts and a T-shirt, but then I changed because it felt too casual. Finally, I settled on a pair of dark jeans and a long-sleeved henley.

I ran some gel through my dark hair, still leaving it a bit messy because I remembered how much Birdie loved my wild curls.

Even though my stomach is in knots, I can’t wait for her to walk through my front door.

Tonight doesn't even feel real.

I don’t know how I’ve managed to stay away from her for so long. Now that she’s back in my life, I feel like I can’t think straight when she’s not around. I can’t focus on anything buther. Since I saw her last, I’ve called her a few times just to check in and get me through the day. Her voice is like a soothing sedative for my mind.

Before running into Birdie at Coastal Market, I thought I could tread through life, living a lonely and miserable existence. But now that she’s back, I’m certain that I would die without her. Wither away to nothing but skin and bones.

Birdie is my drug of choice. She’s that one hit that altered my brain chemistry for the rest of my life.

It was easier to live without her when I had all but convinced myself that she didn’t exist. I felt like I had to treat her as if she were a ghost just to survive another day.

But now that I’ve seen her—touched her—I feel like I can hardly breathe when she’s not around.

When I was a kid, Birdie was my comfort. I thought I would grow out of being so dependent on her as I got older and broke free from my father.

But now, I’m starting to realize that she’s my lifeline. My soulmate in every sense of the word.

When I first met her at eight years old, I wanted nothing more than to be next to Birdie Wren. To simply be an orb floating in her presence. To breathe the same air as her. I didn’t know what that meant at the time.

But it’s true when they say that some things never change.

Twenty minutes later,I’m standing on my back porch, preparing a couple of burgers to throw on the grill. Right as I’m drizzling seasoning over the raw patties, I hear the doorbell ring.

My entire body goes still.

Sweat coats my palms as my throat swells with a lump. I wipe my hands on a kitchen rag hanging over the grill and try to steady my breathing.

Woof! Wooooof!Ollie howls.

I hope Birdie's prepared for my loud-ass dog.

“It’s okay, buddy,” I soothe, rubbing the top of his head and walking through the sliding glass door leading to the living room. A strong aroma hits me as soon as I step inside.

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