Page 139 of Ripped & Shipped
I end up editing a few reels and preparing content for the coming week. Working on my page makes the hours between calling Meg and Chris knocking on the front door melt away. Social media always does that for me. It’s a productive distraction, and the one place I know I’ll find appreciation for my brand of personality.
Haters? Yes. I have plenty, but they are far outnumbered by the people who wait for my next post with baited breath. My peeps. What would I do without them?
Chris knocks and then lets himself right into my home. I love the ease with which he enters my world these days—like he’s this missing piece that always belonged here. My corner piece.
“You ready?” His face is a combination of care and reserved dissatisfaction.
He’s not happy I’m going. But he’s not abandoning me or making me suffer for our disagreement. Look at us, being all grown up about things where we can’t find a common ground.
“I’d actually love to remember you with a smile on your face in the event this plane goes down.”
That comment does not earn me a smile. Instead, I’m face-to-face with the glorious scowl that makes me want to cancel my flight and go away with Chris for a weekend.
“How do you get cuter when you’re mad?”
He nearly grumbles out his response. “I’m not cute. Nothing about me iscute.”
I walk toward him, ready to soothe the beast. “Oh, Soldier. You’re so wrong about that. You’re the absolutely cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”
I place my palm flat on his chest and go up on tiptoes to kiss the skin on his cheek right above his beard. His face morphs into a sort of pout. Still cute.
“Chris,” I say, stepping back only a few inches. “I know you don’t want me to go. I get it. And I know there’s a lot up in the air right now. But one thing that is not confusing, not uncertain, and not going to change one bit is how I feel about you.”
He smiles a little. It’s a begrudging smile.
“There’s nothing to say that I haven’t already said. Your bags are packed. You’ve got your mind made up. You know I’m dead set against you going. And for good reason. I just don’t want to see you hurt.”
“I’ve been hurting,” I remind him. “And I think this trip will help with some of that.”
“You’ll call me if you need anything?”
“I’ll call you even if I don’t need anything.”
He smiles bigger this time, and then he tugs me to himself and kisses me for real.
Cancel my tickets, people! This kiss.
His hand holds me close to him while his other palm cups my cheek. He kisses me, then he pulls back and stares into my eyes like he’s memorizing me. Then he leans in again like he can’t get enough of us—enough of me. I wrap my arms around his neck, holding his head in place so I can show him everything he means to me.
When we break apart, he says, “I’m going to miss you, Boots. And I wish I could do something to change this town and their hurtful ways.”
“Not your circus. Not your monkeys.”
“I know. I really do.”
He brushes a hand down my face. Our eyes lock. I lean my cheek into his palm.
Then he says, “Okay. We’d better go.”
The drive isn’t silent. I fill it with talk of all I’ll be doing and what I’m looking forward to. He asks if I want to stop by Alex and Courtney’s on our way back from Columbus when I get home. I think it’s his way of mentally fast-forwarding ahead of this trip he doesn’t want me to take.
“Of course I want to see them. I love them!”
He smiles at that. “I think they’re pretty far gone for you too.”
Chris drops me at the curb. I insist he doesn’t come in with me. It’s a madhouse inside and we’ll just clog things up standing there kissing and looking all madly-in-love. It still blows my mind. I’m deliriously in love with Christopher St. James. And what’s an even bigger shocker? He’s fiercely in love with me.
Chris takes all my bags from the trunk and then we stand there kissing until the airport employee tells Chris this is a loading and unloading zone and he needs to move his car.
