Page 132 of The Perfect Love

“I loved them. But I love you more. Thank you.”

I let her go, and she looks up at me, vibrant eyes filled with warmth. “Anything to see that smile. Come on.”

She nods to the mugs, then grabs one. I grab the other and the pictures and follow her toward the back door. She stops and gets two blankets from a basket near the door, then leads me onto the screened-in back porch.

Once we’re comfortable on the outdoor loveseat, I show her the pictures, saving the one of our dads for last.

Her mouth drops when she sees it.

“They—they—”

“Were friends. Or friendly.”

She brushes her thumb over the photo. “Another tether between us.”

I put the photo back in the envelope and pull her close. “Further proof that we were always supposed to find each other. End up here.”

She leans against me, resting her head on my chest.

“Here is pretty great.”

And as I hold my girl, nestled under blankets on this beautiful night, feeling more in love with her than ever, all I can do is agree.

Chelsea

I feel fantastic.

It’s a marked change from a week ago when I was lying in bed and wanted to roll into an early grave. I haven’t had a period like that in a while, and it almost makes me want to try birth control again, but somehow every birth control I tried made things worse for me. They either made me sick or gave me migraines or made my periods worse somehow. Apparently, my body doesn’t like additional hormones added to the mix.

Speaking of hormones, mine are on fire.

My period finally fucked off two days ago, and now I’m frisky and want nothing more than to turn that wild hormonal energy on Trevor. Not that I think he’ll mind. I’ve been amping up my flirty texts all day, but I didn’t want to tease him too much before I see him.

I just finished up a meeting with the planning committee for the women’s festival. It’s so much fun. A little more hippie than I’m used to, but the powerful female energy is strong. While drum circles aren’t my thing, learning more about women’s health and wellness and channeling my inner power—yes, that’s one of the festival events—is one hundred percent my thing. And I can’t wait. It’s not until May, but there’s already been some ticket sales, and I’m hopeful it’ll be a great event.

I wave to one of the other women on the committee as I open my car door. Trevor should be waiting for me at my apartment, reading the fantasy series that I’ve already halfway binged. Thankfully, Trevor doesn’t complain about me being ahead, he just tries to get me to give him spoilers, which I don’t do becausesacrilege!

I lock my car, then turn it on before pulling my phone out to text Trevor one more deliciously dirty thing—and let him know I’m ready to kick things up a notch. I’ve had my mouth on him—more than once since that first time. Now I’m ready for him to have his mouth on me. Below my chest. A shiver of anticipation rolls through me when I think about it. But it dies almostimmediately when I see new texts in my group chat with Bridget and Lex.

Preparing for my blood pressure to rise, I open the conversation.

Bridget: So, I’m bummed we didn’t get to see you over Thanksgiving break. Any chance we can plan something for winter break?

Lex: Yeah, we miss you! And we want to meet the boyfriend.

I blink in surprise. Not the typical passive aggression I’m used to. It still has the feel of them ganging up on me, which it hurts to admit they’ve always done, but I’m used to that. I go to type out a response, but stop myself. Because I was going to apologize that I wasn’t feeling well, but what Trevor said last week has stuck with me. That if the girls had known I didn’t feel well, they’d all have shown up for me. I don’t need to apologize to Bridget and Lex. If they’d wanted to see me, they would’ve made the effort.

Instead, I take a deep breath and respond in a way that doesn’t give them room to blame me.

Me: It would be nice to see you. Trevor will be there with me before Christmas, so maybe sometime in there?

Bridget: Yes! Finally.

Lex: We’ll make it happen.

Me: Throw some dates at me and we’ll figure something out.

Bridget: Hooray!

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