Page 84 of Our Long Days
“Nope.”
Her smile is so wide, it makes my heart ache. She smacks her lips to mine, the taste of grapefruit lingering, then snaps her eyes shut.
Saturating the cotton pad, I swipe it over her face. She scrunches her nose and giggles, her hands resting on my shoulders, kneading the tight muscles.
“You’re so good to me,” she announces proudly.
I huff a breath. “If this is the bar, the male population has some work to do.”
She squints with one eye, looking every bit the drunken pirate. “I’ve had a crush on you since high school. Now look. I’ve gone from a lovesick teenager to your dirty little secret.”
My hand falls away. “You’re not my dirt?—”
She presses two fingers to my mouth, silencing me. “Am I good for you? Good enough?”
Something tugs in my chest. A dark cloud snuffs out the sunshine. Her chipper attitude slides away. “Are you embarrassed by me? Is that why you don’t want to tell anyone?”
I can’t keep doing this to her. She’s got nothing to prove. I do.
I’m stunned for all of three seconds before clasping her by the chin, forcing her gaze on mine.
“You’re too good for me, baby.” Somehow, my voice is steady, despite the tremors in my hands.
She sniffles, and goddammit, that dejected noise is a dagger to the heart. I press my lips to her cheek, catching the singletear that falls. “I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. Because do you know what you’d see?”
She shakes her head.
My hands frame her face, those green orbs searing holes into my soul.
Being with Florence is like being at sea. Land is safe. Predictable. I’m tired of being safe. I want to live, to take risks, to share my life with someone. She’s the ocean. Ferocious waters. Carving her way through the world. It’s easy to get lost, but the second I stop fighting, a calmness waits.
If loving her is getting lost at sea, let me float away with the current.
I’d happily drown at her hands.
Now isn’t the time for declarations, and she probably wouldn’t remember anyway. My next words are more for me, as if saying them aloud fights off the last of my demons.
“A strong, breathtakingly beautiful woman, inside and out. You love fiercely, light up any room like a firework, and throw everything you’ve got at something, no matter how challenging. Seeing your smile is the highlight of my day, and going to sleep with you in my arms is the best end to it. I’ll remind you every day if I need to. So, no, Florence, you don’t embarrass me.” I feather my lips over hers. “You fucking own me.”
Her breath hitches. “I don’t want to own you. I just want you to be proud to call me yours one day.”
Smoke plumes around me,my mouth watering as I lift the lid on the grill, revealing enough meat to feed an army.
We’re in Pat and Jo’s backyard, enjoying some “Beer, Barbecue, and Bros” as Booth calls it, though the rest of us call it a bachelor party. George, Johanna’s dad, helps Graham set up the poker table on the patio while I man the grill.
Lottie and Jo were on their way out when I arrived. They’re meeting the rest of the girls for a spa day now that Aly and Booth are in town. According to Lottie, the fact she didn’t have a penis was unfair, and she wanted to stay behind and put her money where her mouth is. Her words, not mine.
A girl after my heart.
As predicted, Florence had a wicked hangover this morning. It was clear she’d forgotten her tearful admission last night, but I hadn’t.
Her broken, deflated voice has played on repeat in my head all day.
I go to flip a burger when someone swats the back of my hand.
Booth stands beside me, wielding a spatula. “Mitts off.”
“Fuck off,” I volley. “Who put you in charge?”
