Page 175 of The Perfect Love

Chelsea

“Perfect,” I whisper tomyself as I hang the last picture on the wall. It’s one of us on the hood of Trevor’s car at the Grand Canyon. The way the sun halos us in the shot gives it an old school ’80s or ’90s look.

Driving to the Grand Canyon was our big summer trip. Between me helping out at the counseling center in Ida and working at my family’s campground, and Trevor doing his internship with the Boys and Girls Clubandbeing a fantastic commentator for the Binghamton Knights, we were busy, but we made sure to have fun. Two weeks before school started, his internship finished, so we got on the road and drove to the Grand Canyon, exploring lots of the rest of the country alongthe way. We ate some fantastic food, saw lots of cool things, and listened to every Eagles album twice. It was the best vacation of my life—besides maybe going to Disney World when I was thirteen.

Summer flew by, and so has the beginning of the school year.

Trevor and I moving in together has been seamless, mostly because he spent so much time here last year and we spent most of our summer together, so it’s not really new. We celebrated our one-year anniversary by recreating our first date, and our anniversary gift to each other was to go through and pick photos for each other to hang on the wall between the living room and the bedroom.

We’ve spent the last few weeks going through them all, framing them, and hanging them up.

I walk back toward the front of the apartment, aiming for the kitchen because I’m starving.

“All finished. It looks good.”

To my surprise, Trevor doesn’t look up from his phone.

He’s fixated on it, typing away.

“Did you want anything to eat?” I ask, but still nothing.

I turn and head back toward the couch, talking the whole way. “I hear the Boston Revs are going to kick the Metros asses this weekend.”

He still doesn’t look up. Time to break out the big guns.

“I’m thinking about cutting my hair. Maybe a cute little bob or something.”

His head shoots up, his eyes dancing over me, then he swallows hard. “If that’s what you want.”

I slide onto his lap. “Ah, you’re so cute when you’re trying to be respectful of my decisions, even if it’s one you hate.” I lift his phone out of his hand. “Like I want to cut my hair. Please. I love my wild woman hair.”

He gives me a charming smirk. “So do I. Especially when it’s wrapped around my hand while I fuck you into the mattress.”

Yeah, that’s something else we did over the summer—had a whole damn lot of sex. I’ve never felt as uninhibited and comfortable in my body as I do now. There’s no power dynamic. It’s all about what we’re in the mood for. Which is usually having fun and getting as much pleasure out of it as possible.

“So, glad to know where my hair ranks in my importance sincethat’swhat it took to get you to look up from your phone.”

He hangs his head. “Sorry. Got a text I wasn’t expecting.”

“Everything okay?”

He nods. “It’s a good thing, actually, but…”

“You’re being cryptic.” I hand him back his phone.

“It’s from my old teammate, BK. He’s one of the good ones, and he and his girlfriend—they met during freshmen orientation—just got engaged. They’re having a get together at a brewpub we used to go to a lot to celebrate. It’s on Tuesday. In Syracuse.”

“Oh,” I whisper.

“Yeah. I—I’d like to go, and if you want to come with me, I’d love to introduce you to one of the few good friends I actually made there.”

I bite my lip. “Will a lot of the team be there?”

He nods. “Anyone still on the team, which wouldn’t be that many from when we were in school, since he’s a senior now. And probably other friends from campus, plus friends of Sasha—his fiancée.”

I suck in a big breath, then let it out. It’s been a long time since I’ve been there. But maybe it’s time. It’s one of the larger cities in the state. I can’t avoid it forever.

“I’ll go.”

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