Page 48 of All Your Tomorrows

“So…” He ticked his chin toward my hand, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Why’d you get the cologne?”

“Because I wanted to be able to smell you.”

He grinned. “And? How do I smell?”

“Just like I imagined,” I admitted.

He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me into his side. I couldn’t help but nestle into his body as if the spot was made for me. “Why does this have to suck so much?”

“What?”

“Being caught between life and death.”

“You can always stop being caught and wake up,” I said.

“I’d give anything to be alive,” he said.

“What would you do first?”

He was silent for a long time. “Introduce you to my parents.”

“Shut up,” I whined, embarrassed I’d clearly forced him into saying that.

“I’m serious. I want to do the normal stuff I can’t do right now. I want to talk to people. I want to hug the people I care about. Oh, and I want to eatfoooooood.”

Even though he was making light of his situation, I still hurt for him.

“You ready?” he asked, his eyes cutting down to me.

I sat up causing him to do the same. “Ready.”

* * *

“Pull over,” Kyler said, pointing to the side of the road he’d directed me to in a nearby town.

I pulled to a stop in front of a beautiful colonial home on our right. Christmas lights covered every surface of the exterior. Blowup decorations and retro blow-molds of snowmen, Santa Claus, Christmas carolers, and reindeer lined the landscape. Glowing snowflakes hung from the branches of the massive trees on either side of their walkway.

“Shut off your lights,” he urged and I did. “Now, tune the radio to 98.5. The lights will move to the music.”

I turned on the channel, and “Santa Clause is Coming to Town” played. The hopping lights on glowing arches on the roof moved in time to the music. “It’s so pretty.”

He smiled, his eyes focusing on mine. “I can’t take you on a real date,” he said. “And I really wanted to.”

“This is perfect,” I assured him.

We sat outside the home admiring the lights and listening to Christmas music for a long time. As abnormal as this was, it was the most normal I’d ever felt with a guy—and the most comfortable.

“I wanted my parents to do this to our house when I was a kid,” Kyler said.

“They didn’t want to?”

“My mom didn’t want to put a bunch of staples into the vinyl siding, and my dad worried about the roof leaking if we added all that stuff up there,” he explained.

“Yeah, I can see them not wanting to damage their beautiful home.”

“But you’d think they’d want to make me happy. Being their only kid and all.”

“Spoiledonly kid,” I amended for him.

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