Page 82 of I Almost Do

Me: What did you think?

James: I didn't open it yet. I was saving it until we texted. Did you like your present?

I hit the FaceTime button. James picks up immediately, a smile on his face. "Look at you, gorgeous."

I smile back, the pang in my chest painful at the sight of him. "Merry Christmas."

I hold up the unopened package he sent me. "I didn't open the present you sent yet either. Do you want to—"

It belatedly occurs to me this might be a bad idea. This is putting a lot of pressure on the man. It also might make things awkward if he thinks this is me trying to tell him I'm ready to come home. Because we're definitely not there yet. I just miss him so much. And it's Christmas.

James shuffles around a bit on his end, and I get a view of the ceiling of his apartment. Then he's back with a small smile on his face, holding up the package I sent. "So, how do we do this? One at a time or together?"

"Umm, can I go first and you open yours second?" If his reaction to my gift doesn't go well, then we won't have to awkwardly hang out on FaceTime while I open his gift afterward.

He nods, clears his throat, then says, "Go ahead. Just—" He scratches his head and looks a little sheepish. "It's probably stupid. It was a lot harder than I thought it would be. I had to hire someone to teach me how to do it. And, yeah—"

"Now, I'm incredibly intrigued," I say. I pick up the small box and give it a little shake near my ear. Then I prop up my phone and pull off the wrapping.

Inside is a pretty wooden box, and inside the box is a classy crystal USB. I hold it up between my fingers and shoot him a questioning look. "Photos?"

He shakes his head, and there's a splash of color on his cheekbones. "Audio files. There are five novellas on there. Do you remember I offered to read for you? But then…."

Ah, yes. Then he'd never needed to because we'd started having phone sex when we were apart and mutual masturbation sessions when we were together instead. His slippery slope and all that.

"Anyway," he says, scratching his neck, "I thought you might still like… but if it's stupid, you don't have to…."

I clutch the USB against my chest, and I know my eyes are shining. "James. Iloveit. It's the best gift I've ever received in my life. I can't wait to listen."

He shrugs and looks away, but there's a small smile on his face. "Good."

He holds up the gift I sent. It's larger and heavier than his. "Shall I?”

I nod, and now I'm the one who's nervous.

James has always encouraged my writing, always reading my projects and raving about them. He's the one who gave me the initial confidence boost to allow myself to write the types of things I enjoy reading. And he never scoffed that it wasn't literary enough or that my stories were silly pulp fiction romance, even though they are.

He props the phone against something on the coffee table so he can use both hands, sits down on the floor in front of the sofa, and unwraps the book I sent, holding it up with a questioning look on his face.

"Good book?" he asks. "I haven't read this author before."

"I hope it's good," I say, rubbing my lip with my thumb. "And you've definitely read this author. That's my pen name."

His eyes grow wide. Then he looks down at the trade-size paperback in his hands. It has a matte cover, with gloss title text on a pale blue background. A single purple gerbera daisy, its stem long and green, curls up the right edge, with the textWaiting for Sunshinein magenta block text to the left of it. The edges are deckled, and it's just so pretty.

James's smile is incandescent. "You did it."

I nod, briefly pulling my sweater up over my nose and mouth, and smile. Dropping the sweater, I say, "I did. The release is scheduled for next month. And there are two more in the series coming after that."

He looks down at the book again, reading the back blurb. "Did you sign it for me? You better have signed it," he says. "This will be worth a lot of money someday."

I laugh because he's so ridiculous, but I'm inordinately pleased by his reaction. "Maybe you should look and see."

He flips the book open and grins at my inscription that reads "Yes, James, I signed it for you." Then he begins to page through the beginning. I can tell the moment he finds the dedication: "For James. Still and Always. I promise."

He freezes solid, a dent between his eyebrows. He blinks rapidly, swallows, and his lips press tight. He looks back at me through the camera lens. "I love you too. God, I hope you know how much I love you."

My chin wobbles, and I can't speak for a moment. I manage a tight nod.

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