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With A Twist

Page 22

by Staci Hart


  She snorted.

  “But there’s nothing to do except tell him. I can’t un-ring the bell. I can’t not tell him.”

  “I know. And it’s going to be okay.”

  “God, I hope so. We’ll know for sure tomorrow. Now, feed me pizza!” I made a whip crack sound.

  She laughed and took my arm, and we waved at Shelby as we left Habits. And for the first time in a long time, I felt like everything might just be all right.

  STARS AND SONNETS

  Lily

  THE SUN HAD BEEN ASSAULTING me for hours before I finally cracked my lids, immediately squeezing them closed again. I pulled the covers over my head.

  That’s better.

  My thoughts wandered back to the night before, the day before, and my heart fluttered in my chest. Today, everything would change, and as scared as I was, I was ready. He loved me, and I loved him. And as soon as I told him, we could step into whatever came next. Together.

  I reached out and pawed at my nightstand for my phone, and once my fingers were around it, I dragged the phone under the covers with me. It was ten. My eyes flew open. I had way too much to do to lie around in bed all day.

  I flipped back my covers and squinted as I dropped my feet to the floor and stood. Or tried to. The room spun around, and I grabbed my nightstand.

  “Whoa. Mmkay, maybe a little slower.”

  Maggie shot out of bed with her curly hair sticking up in every direction, sleep mask half on her face. “Whasthe fun … barracuda?”

  “Go back to bed,” I croaked and waved her off, and she flopped back on her pillow, pulling her covers over her head. I shuffled across the hall to Rose’s room and opened the door. Her room was so dark, it was like a metropolitan cave, complete with blackout curtains and a box fan whirring in the corner. I felt my way through, buckling when I kicked the end of her bed frame.

  “Fuck,” I hissed, grabbing my shin. “Shitfuckingdammit.”

  Rose stirred in bed.

  I hobbled over and climbed in with her. “Rosieeeeeeee,” I whispered and moved her hair out of her face.

  She didn’t move.

  “Rose,” I said a little louder.

  Nothing.

  I shook her shoulder. “Rose!”

  She smacked her lips and sighed.

  I slapped her on the cheek, and her eyes flew open. “Good morning, sunshine,” I said sweetly.

  “Hmm?” She rolled over and rubbed her face.

  “It’s ten. You promised me bacon.”

  Rose cracked an eyelid. “How are you so fucking chipper right now?”

  “Pizza? Ibuprofen? The gallon of water I drank before bed? Who knows. Get up! Today’s the day. I have until he gets off work tonight to get my shit together, and I have no idea what I’m doing.”

  She reached for a pillow and tucked it into her chest. “Let’s just sleep a little longer.”

  I grabbed the pillow and ripped it out of her arms. “Ah, ah, ah. Wakey wakey.”

  “Ugh, oppressor.” She pulled her covers over her head.

  I yanked them off of her. “You love me.”

  “I hate you, go away.” She curled up in a ball.

  “Can’t. Need your help. Now get up, and let’s get bacon and coffee before I detox for a year.”

  She snorted, and I smiled as I climbed out of her bed and threw open the curtains, leaving her room to the sound of her hisses.

  And so, my day began. I was going to tell West I loved him.

  Rose and I had breakfast at Genie’s and planned out everything in a nice, tidy checklist. Anxiety rolled through me when I met up with Patrick to enlist his help, which he granted me gladly. I hoped it was enough. West deserved something epic.

  Excitement flitted around my chest as I dressed up late that afternoon, and I felt electric as I pulled strings of lights and tiny stars out of the box in the courtyard at Habits. And then, I tried not to pass out as I waited behind the corner for him to walk through that door so I could tell him how much he meant to me.

  West

  I stepped off the train that evening after what might have been the longest Monday I’d ever had. I hadn’t seen Lily, hadn’t talked to her since she came to Columbia the day before. But as badly as I wanted to see her, she’d asked for time. So time was what I was giving her.

  That didn’t stop me from thinking about her.

  The night before, I lay in bed, picturing her in bed down the hall, wondering what she was thinking. Wondering if she was all right. I’d woken that morning with her name on my lips. Drudged through my classes and graded papers feeling flat and gray. And now I’d go home and start the cycle all over again.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket as I climbed the steps out the subway, and my heart hit my stomach when I saw a text from Lily. I stopped dead in the middle of the stairwell, barely moving when a passer-by hit my shoulder.

  Meet me at Habits?

  My fingers flew. Of course. I’m just around the corner. You okay?

  Yeah, just wanted to talk. See you in a minute.

  Emotion tumbled through me as I unrooted my feet and took off. She wanted to talk about us. I realized in that moment that as much as I’d thought about it, I was unprepared for her answer. Every expectation, every scenario that I imagined dissipated, leaving me blind. I felt like I was staring at the sun.

  My heart clanged as I walked up to Habits and pulled open the door, finding Rose behind the bar. The smile she gave me sent a glimmer of hope through me, and she jerked her head toward the back exit where the patio was.

  I was a man on fire as I walked through the bar and through that door.

  Everything slowed down as the door closed behind me, but I saw every detail. Dusk painted deep shadows against the brick walls and corners of the small courtyard, built around an old crabapple tree that stretched up toward the roofs. It was in full bloom, covered in white blossoms that dropped every few seconds, spinning to the cobblestone ground like snowflakes. The tree was glowing, covered in white lights, and from the branches hung small, silver stars that caught the light as they moved every so often, touched by the petals as they fell.

  On the small table in front of me was a sheet of parchment, and I took a step closer to pick up the thick paper.

  The edges were painted with ink and watercolor, branches that stretched up, covered in lilies and leaves against a night sky and stars. And in the center were her words.

  My friend, my friend you’ll always be.

  And from the very start

  You were as steadfast as the sea

  And I gave you my heart.

  But only as my friend, my friend,

  For we could not be more

  And so we vowed until the end

  There’d be no more in store.

  And all this time I’ve gladly spent

  My days and nights with you,

  My friend, my friend, without a hint

  Of love, without a clue

  That you were meant for me, my love

  And I was meant for you.

  I laid down the sonnet and looked up to find her standing in front of me. The soft pink lace that made up her dress, her blond hair in waves, her skin, her smile — everything was illuminated by the lights all around us. The petals fell as we stood under the tree, and I looked into her eyes — eyes full of hope, full of fear. Full of love.

  I had no words.

  She took a step toward me, then another until she was close enough that I couldn’t breathe without breathing her in. Her face turned up to mine, and she reached for my hand, twisting her fingers in mine.

  “All this time, you were right here. You were right in front of me, and I missed it.” She searched my face, eyes soft with wonder. “How could I not have seen you?”

  I slipped a hand into her hair, voice rough, only a whisper. “Lily …”

  “I love you, West.”

  I closed my eyes and took a trembling breath, opening them to find her in my arms still. “Say it again.”
<
br />   She smiled, the tears in her eyes sparkling. “I love you,” she whispered.

  And then I closed my eyes and kissed her.

  That kiss changed my life.

  I held on to her like she was keeping me standing, hand in her silky hair, arm around her waist, her lips so soft, so sweet against mine, promising forever. My life clicked into place in that moment, and I knew she was all I wanted.

  Her hands slid up my chest and to my jaw, fingers in my beard, in my hair. The kiss deepened, her lips parting in submission, and I breathed her in like a drowning man. She said she loved me. She’d be mine.

  I was already hers — I’d lost myself to her long before I even knew.

  We finally slowed and broke away, and she leaned back, hanging on my neck with bright eyes. “I can’t believe I’ve been missing that all this time.”

  I laughed and pressed my forehead to hers. “Give me time to make up for it.”

  “Take all you want. I’m yours.”

  PHILMORE

  Lily

  WEST PRESSED HIS LIPS AGAINST mine again, and my eyelids fluttered closed, heart thundering in my chest. I melted against him, not wanting to stop. Ever.

  The kiss was tender and easy, and he caught my bottom lip between his, sucking so gently. I was grateful for his arms around me, because I didn’t know if I could stand on my own.

  He broke away and looked down at me with eyes that told me everything I needed to know. I was meant for him. I cupped his cheek, feeling the softness of his beard between my fingers as I smiled up at him. He leaned into my hand.

  “Is this real?”

  I nodded, watching as the petals fell, tracing the lines of his face, the shadows cast by the glowing tree behind him, committing every detail to memory. “I’m sorry I couldn’t answer you yesterday.”

  “Don’t be. This … this is more than I could have ever imagined, Lily.” He smiled. “You wrote me a sonnet.”

  I smiled back. “I did.”

  “It’s beautiful. Perfect.” His lips brushed mine, and he pulled away.

  My heart beat his name as I looked into his eyes.

  “So what do we do now?” He let me go, and I found his hand, not wanting to separate.

  “Can I buy you a drink, Mr. Williams?”

  West picked up the sonnet and squeezed my hand, tugging me toward the door, smiling. “Not on your life, Miss Thomas.”

  The first thing I saw once we were inside was Rose staring at the back door, worrying her lip between her teeth, but her face lit up like a Christmas tree when she saw us beaming and holding hands. She bounced, clapping, before running around the bar and bum rushing us, pulling us both of into a hug.

  “Finally!” She pulled away, cheeks pink, eyes bouncing between us. “Come on, you two. What are you drinking?” She grabbed my hand and dragged us to the bar.

  I took a seat, and West sat facing me, resting one foot on my stool’s middle rung. He hooked his fingers under my seat and pulled me closer to him, putting me nearly in his lap. His thigh was against my stool, hand on my lower back. It might have been the most awesome thing ever. I reached for his knee, grinning.

  “What are you drinking?” Rose asked, pulling out rocks glasses.

  “Neat scotch for me,” West answered, fingers shifting against my back. My eyes followed the line of his nose, the curve of his lips before he turned to me.

  “You’re making this no drinking thing really hard on me, Rose.”

  She was giddy, eyes twinkling. “Just one celebratory drink. I’ll pour it light for you.”

  I sighed. “Gin and tonic, please.” I turned on my stool to face him and smiled like an idiot. “So, you liked my sonnet? Not gonna lie — I might have gotten the idea from Ten Things, but I thought it was fitting. Shakespeare is the way to your heart, andI wanted to tell you in a way that meant something more to you than the words alone.”

  He held it in front of us, and we looked it over. “The words would have been enough, but I love it.”

  “I tried iambic pentameter, but it sounded so wrong.”

  He chuckled. “It’s perfect. Did Patrick illustrate this?”

  “He did.”

  “So, did everybody know about this except me?”

  I glanced up at the ceiling and bobbled my head coyly. “Mmm, maybe. Paybacks for telling everyone how you felt about me before you actually told me.”

  He laughed, the sound deep and rumbling, and I smiled. “In my defense, they all told me to wait to tell you.”

  “It’s good that you did. Doesn’t make it any less awkward.”

  He chuckled and looked over the parchment again. “It really is beautiful. I’m impressed. You’re a poet.”

  “And I didn’t even know it.” I made a face and laughed.

  Rose rolled her eyes. “I thought we had at least a few weeks before you two went full cheeseball on each other.”

  West and I took our drinks and faced each other. I raised my glass. “To us.”

  He raised his, meeting mine. “To things to come.”

  We touched our glasses and took a drink. I set my glass on the bar top, feeling high, and Rose smiled, making her way around the bar to take care of her tables.

  I was all smiles. “I don’t know what to do with myself.”

  He grabbed my hand that lay on his knee. “We’re just the same as we were this afternoon or a year ago, except now we’re more than we were before.”

  I thought my heart might explode as I stared at him, smiling at me. “I can’t think straight. I have a million things to say, and I can’t find words for any of them.”

  He smiled at me. “I know.”

  I took a breath in an attempt to calm down, looking down at his hand over mine, his thumb as it moved against my knuckles. “Part of me wondered if you meant it, you know.”

  His brow dropped. “You didn’t think I meant it when I said I loved you?”

  I nodded. “I worried it was prompted by Blane, you know? That you were mad about him and it had somehow … don’t know. Distorted your feelings. Part of me worried that when I told you I felt the same, you’d admit that it wasn’t real.”

  “I meant it. I don’t know that I’ve ever been so sure of anything. From the second I realized it, it became a simple truth, just a part of who I am. I love you, Lily. Whether you love me back or not, I love you.”

  Tears filled my eyes, and I smiled, touching his cheek as I leaned into him, bringing my lips to his. When I pulled away, he tugged my arm, forcing our mouths back together for a moment longer.

  He pulled away, watching his hand as he touched my hair. “I want to kiss you until I know the feeling by heart.”

  “We should practice, then.”

  He smiled. “Oh, we will. But not here. I’d like to take you out, Lily Thomas. I want the world to know you’re mine before I take you for my own.”

  My insides turned into jelly. “Let’s go now.”

  West touched my cheek. “Not yet. I’ve got to make some plans.”

  I might have pouted a little. “What should we do tonight, then?”

  “Well, you know what show we’re behind on?”

  “The Bachelor,” we said at the same time.

  “Come on, then. Who knows what shenanigans Celeste is going to get in this week.” I picked up my drink and drained it in a gulp.

  “I can’t believe Eric doesn’t see her crazy.” He shook his head and knocked his whiskey back before pulling out his wallet. Rose hurried around the bar and slapped his hand when he tried to leave some cash.

  “Nope. Get out of here with that.”

  “Come on,” he insisted, pushing the money back at her.

  She batted it away. “I said no! Consider it my gift to you on this most joyous occasion.”

  I laughed. “You better give up, West. She’s not above shooting you with the soda gun.”

  Rose grabbed it and pointed the nozzle at him. “She’s right. Now scram.”

  West smiled. “Thank you
, Rose.”

  “You’re welcome. Now don’t get into any trouble, and hang a sock on the door if there’s nakedness happening because I’m not ready for that. You two kissing in the bar is weird enough.”

  I leaned over the bar to kiss her cheek. “Thanks, Rosie.”

  “No prob, Lil.”

  We waved and smiled our way out of Habits, onto the street in the early night, holding hands as we hurried toward our building and up the stairs. His hand was on my back as I unlocked my door and stepped into the dark apartment.

  “Mags?” I called. “You here?”

  Silence.

  “Huh. Guess she’s out.” I clicked on the lamp, kicking off my shoes as I tossed my keys in the dish, and West made his way around the couch and took off his bag. I padded into the living room behind him, looking over a sight I’d seen a thousand times. But watching him set down his things and stretch — the long line of his torso, the profile of his face and hair, just the sheer height of him — hit me in a way that made my heart ache. It was possession I felt. He was mine.

  He smiled over at me, and when I reached him, we flopped down on the couch shoulder to shoulder, feet propped on the coffee table just like we always did as I navigated the DVR and hit play.

  I wound my arm around his, found his hand, and we threaded our fingers together. A few minutes later, that wasn’t enough, and he let my hand go to wrap his arm around me. I leaned into him with my hand on his thigh and my thoughts focused on him so intently that even the slightest movement garnered my full attention.

  A commercial break came on, and I shifted, brought my knees up so I was almost in his lap. His hand found the outside of my thigh, and I beamed at him.

  I’d planned on saying something witty, to start a conversation to dissipate the nervous energy buzzing through me, but then I looked at him — his eyes like the summer sky, dark hair tied back in a knot, his beard framing his lips, lips I now knew to be strong and soft — and I was a goner. I leaned into him, breathing the scent of spiced oranges, and met his lips. They moved against mine, telling me things I knew to be true without the complication of words or thought. Just a simple action that said he needed me just like I needed him.

 

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