I cut him off. “Relax, I’m not going to freak out on you. This a public beach, and anyone can come here. But especially because we left things in a good place. I meant what I said, I forgive you. I honestly think it’s funny we’re here at the same time.”
As if I hadn’t just been basically asking the ocean for answers to my problems.
He studies my face, as if he’s trying to memorize us both here. It breaks my heart at the same time that it sends it soaring.
“I came here because I wanted to feel closer to you. To think about how good we were before I screwed it all up. I’m sorry, I’m invading your space. This is your spot where you come to be alone. I’ll go.”
He’s about to turn when I blurt it out. “I love you.”
Mick stutters, almost falling over on himself, because I think I utterly bamboozled him. I bamboozled myself, because I had no idea that was about to come out of my mouth. Apparently, the beach and waves are making decisions for me and then using me as their mouthpiece. Literally.
“What …” Mick’s eyes, the color of the deepest green out in that ocean, search mine.
I shrug, trying to come up with an explanation as to why I just had word vomit. I wrack my own brain, because what the heck is going on inside me. The minute I saw him walking away from me on this beach, my beach, our beach, I just knew. I’d been wavering back and forth for weeks, too scared to admit it to myself or anyone and yet still longing to get back together and live in happiness with him.
“I … I do. I love you.” I smile weakly, because the realization slams into me the minute I speak to the words aloud to him. “My entire life, I’ve lived on a whim. Following every impulse, diving head first into anything I wanted. And when it came back to bite me, take a dinosaur-sized chunk out of my life, I knew I had to change. Over the past year, I’ve learned not only who I am as a woman and a person, but what I want out of my relationships with other people. I’ve learned that I am capable of much more than I could have possibly thought, including standing on my own two feet and fighting for myself. It’s made me more cautious, with less of a penchant for trusting my natural instinct of jumping before I look. But when I saw you here, it was like … the world gave me a sign. I can still have some of that impulse, while balancing it with all the things I’ve learned in the last year. So, I love you. I’ve been going back and forth for weeks, since you came to my house to talk, wondering if I should tell you. I can’t imagine we ended up here at the same time by coincidence.”
Mick is staring at me with such intensity that it feels like I’m basking on the surface of the sun.
“You love me,” he says, before taking the two steps between us and pulling me fiercely to him.
Our mouths meet in the middle, fighting to get closer and closer to each other. The kiss ignites me, burning every pore and cell. The cold wind whips around us, but I might as well be a volcano erupting with the heat and passion Mick is heaping upon me.
“I love you,” I answer, not that he asked a question.
“I love you,” he breathes, going back in for more as our lips collide.
Before my suspension, before meeting Mick, I would have never questioned something so cliché and perfect. I would have said that this kind of chance meeting was how love, or lust, worked, and followed my gut.
Right now, at this moment, is no different.
Because I know that this moment isn’t cliché. It isn’t perfect. It took a lot of stumbles and hard conversations and real, raw moments to get here. When it came down to it, both sides of me helped the other to tell this man how I really feel.
And now, we can start our honest, sometimes hard, sometimes beautiful happily ever after.
40
Mick
In the month since Jolie and I reunited on the beach, life has been sweeter than ever.
There is something grounding in the fact of knowing where your relationship stands. Now that we’ve both said those three big words to each other, our connection and depth seems unbreakable. There are no questions about what we are, she is my woman and I’m her man. Yes, when we’re in social situations, we use the terms boyfriend and girlfriend, but it feels like so much more than that.
I feel more centered than I’ve ever been. Dad was right in that, of course, he was. With her by my side, without any doubts or hesitation, life just seems easier. We both still have bad days, obviously, but I find that courses are easier to get through. When I get home from a long day at Dr. Richards’ lab, she’s there to comfort me. When I get a negative update from Mom, Jolie is the one I can lean on to power through the worry and stress.
We’re so different, and it helps to have two opposite personalities in one relationship. Jolie sees things from a point of view that I don’t, or can point out where I’m being too jaded. And in turn, I bring her back down to earth sometimes. She injects the fun, and I bring the rationality, and together it actually makes a great combo.
I knew I wanted to do something nice for her since this is our first Valentine’s Day together, but I’m nervous because I’ve never taken a girl on a date. Much less one who is my girlfriend.
“Will you relax? I’ve never had a Valentine’s Day with a boyfriend either.” Jolie squeezes my hand as we walk through the downtown near our college.
I swear, sometimes she can read my mind.
“I just think you’ll really like this place.” My spine sparks with anxious energy.
Jolie smiles up at me, the pink dress she’s picked hugging every curve of her luscious body. I steer us toward a restaurant on the main strip, its windows decorated in red and pink hearts. Otherwise, its tinted glass reveals nothing. My roommates told me this was a fancy dessert and wine type place that could impress for a Valentine’s Day date.
When we walk inside, it reminds me of a fancy Starbucks with tables and no barista bar. They’re playing indie acoustic music, the whole joint smells like coffee, and there are dark nooks everywhere for couples to get lost in.
After giving my name for the reservation, we’re escorted to our table.
We sit down, perusing the menu, and my stomach drops. These desserts are so … extra. Every recipe has some kind of elderflower or cayenne pepper or root vegetable infusion. What happened to a good piece of cheesecake, or a scoop of ice cream? Is this the rich people shit Jolie is into?
Across the table, Jolie smiles wearily at me.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, alarm bells going off.
“Why did you pick this place?” she asks curiously.
I shrug. “I thought it would be romantic, and you know … your kind of caliber of restaurant.”
She blinks at me, then starts cracking up. “Come on, babe! Haven’t we established that you could take me to Baskin Robbins and I’d be the happiest girl on the planet?”
I slap a hand to my forehead, because my attempt at romance was way too rose-colored. “I’m sorry, I thought this would be so adult and what you were used to on occasions like this and—”
Jolie lays a hand over mine, and her eyes are so full of love. “Just being with you on this day is the best date ever. And the roses you brought to pick me up just sealed the deal. I don’t need an expensive meal, especially one where they put peppers in the brownies because who the hell wants that?”
“No one,” I say adamantly. “Absolutely no one wants that. Or key lime froth with chickpea ice cream.”
We both shiver as if it’s the most disgusting thing we could ever eat, because it is.
She looks at me across from our tragically bad desserts and gives me one of those signature flirty smiles. “We could just blow this ridiculous popsicle stand and go do what we do best.”
“And what’s that?” I play with her fingers on the table.
Jolie leans in and lowers her voice. “Go have sex in a completely inappropriate spot.”
My cock tingles just thinking about it. “Ah, our favorite pastime on our first official couple’s holiday. I like how your brain works.”
“I
thought you might. I saw a secluded park not too far from the parking garage.”
I throw down a twenty for their trouble, not sure what this fancy establishment charges for a brownie that induces coughing and copious amounts of water. Jolie takes my hand, and we scamper out of the restaurant, two lusted up addicts.
It’s the perfect way to celebrate Valentine’s Day; a tribute to how we fell in love, and a celebration of the spontaneity we’ll never lose. It doesn’t take science or logic to explain how we work, or why our connection will never be broken.
I get to be with the only girl I’ve ever loved, and that doesn’t require my brain.
It’s all heart.
Epilogue
Jolie
Two Years Later
I tap my foot incessantly, waiting to get off the plane.
You know those people that are annoying and stand the minute the seatbelt sign comes off even though the plane is still taxying? Yeah, that’s me. Usually, I do it anyway, because what is this life if you can’t jump up and be aggressive in it? But today, it’s especially true.
I’ve been gone for a week, and somewhere in the arrivals pickup area, Mick is waiting for me.
I know to most couples, a week isn’t anything, but we haven’t gone this long without seeing each other since winter break two years ago. Since we became an official, exclusive pair, we’ve spent almost every day, including holidays and weekends, with each other.
The girl in front of me, who is standing in front of the exact place I need to step into to grab my bag in the overhead compartment, gives me a dirty look. I shrug and give her an apologetic nod. But can you blame me?
I’m horny and my hot doctor boyfriend is waiting in the airport for me.
Well, sort of a doctor. Mick is in his second year of medical school and kicking ass, having been accepted with top honors into the Salem Walsh Medical School. He’s studying to be a neurologist, just like Dr. Richards, and hasn’t stopped his work on his mentor’s trial. I try to keep pace with what he’s talking about when he comes home at the end of the day, but most of the scientific stuff goes over my head. All I know is that he’s changing the world, and I’m so proud and turned on by it. Seriously, it’s freaking hot to have a future doctor as a boyfriend.
They let us deplane, and it feels like the slowest walk ever to get out of the tunnel and start passing people through the airport. I’m like one of those pedestrians in New York, practically side swiping people to get to my destination.
My plane arrived in North Carolina from California, where I’ve been at the brand’s headquarters for our annual sales summit. I don’t think I could be any more inspired or fired up by the presentations and seminars I sat in on this entire week.
I’m working as a sales rep for one of my favorite makeup brands. I cover the North Carolina territories, lugging my kits and bags to Sephoras, Ultas, and department stores across the state. I meet with top officials for those brands in this area to sell them on our latest product, checkup about supplies, or promote our latest monthly deals.
When I went into the interview gushing about their best products and basically fangirling over all the things I knew about the brand, I think they knew they had to hire me. If nothing else, then the fact that no one else would sell their brand as desperately and obnoxiously as I would.
And the job is perfect for me. It combines my bubbly, chatty personality with my competitive nature. I make commission and bonuses, or get prize packs, for hitting certain numbers every quarter. It’s a healthy level of fear that keeps me on my toes, and I have a feeling I’d be bored in any other job. Plus, I literally get to play with makeup all day, and who wouldn’t love that?
But I’m glad to be home. I’m glad to have a few days off with my man to just reconnect and wear our mattress out. We moved into an apartment near campus a year ago, after I graduated as a senior from Salem Walsh and Mick was finishing up his first year of medical school. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s ours, and we’ve worked together to make it a home. I even conceded to putting some of Mick’s weird science pun posters in a part of the living room—although guests would never be able to see them if they didn’t know they were there.
Most weekends, if he is off his clinical rotation, we make the two-hour drive to see Mick’s Mom. I haven’t kept in touch with my own much, and have refused their financial or job-related help every time they offer, so it’s nice to be a small part of an actual family.
Unfortunately, Mick’s father passed shortly after his son’s undergraduate graduation. In the months leading up to his death, his father regressed at a rapid pace, and no amount of science or otherwise could keep him with us. Mick spent every day for two months at his bedside, and deferred some of his summer medical studies to simply be with his father in his final moments. It was both crushing and humbling to watch.
After living with ALS for six years, his father outlived more than eighty percent of patients diagnosed in terms of life expectancy. I know that doesn’t sound like a victory, but Mick uses his father’s case in his research daily, both to emotionally fuel him and to gather evidence and theories about how to extend the life expectancy of those living with this terrible disease.
He had a rough time after his dad’s death, understandably. It took a good year for the grief process to work itself out, and there are still days where I wake up and just know it will be a hellish one for the man I love. I know it’s not the most comforting, and I rarely speak these words out loud, but Mick is truly lucky he got the years he did with his father, and to have the father he was blessed with. So many people don’t get one day with a man like that, and I know I’m a changed person just for having known him a short time.
I’m practically sprinting through the airport at this point, and as I round the barrier, I see a giant mess of balloons, and practically squeal. Mick has learned over the years that it doesn’t take fancy dinners or expensive presents to make me happy. Trust me, I love those, but I’ve known them my whole life, and those things never brought caring, love or a deeper connection to the person giving them. No, he’s learned that I love a corny, ridiculous romantic gesture. Like rose petals on the floor to our bedroom or spinning me around to dance in the middle of the grocery aisle. And he never disappoints.
I run to him, not giving a flying fuck who is watching us giddy twenty-somethings greet each other. He catches me at full speed, my legs wrapping around his waist, as he drops the sign he was holding. Yep, my boyfriend picked me up from the airport with balloons and homemade poster board that reads “Welcome Home, Beautiful.”
It’s such a contrast from my nerdy, no-nonsense man, but he does it for me because he knows I love it. That’s what makes it even more special.
“I missed you.” He presses a kiss to my temple as I burrow into the crook of his neck.
“I missed you.” I breathe in his minty scent.
“People are starting to stare.” He chuckles, lowering me to the ground.
I shrug. “Let them, they’re just jealous. You’re so sweet, I love the balloons.”
“People looked at me like I was a circus clown for the last half an hour. It was worth it though.” Mick bends to kiss me.
His mouth is warm and I’ve ached for it for seven days straight. I could get much friskier in this airport and have to pull back before I don’t have the willpower to stop myself.
“I want to do things with you. In that lab coat.” I wiggle my eyebrows.
Mick rolls his eyes, but chuckles. “You and that lab coat. I think you like that thing more than me these days.”
“It really adds something extra.” I wink, already tingling south of my waistline.
“Let’s get out of here. I have a surprise for you in the car.” He smirks at me.
I grab his hand, lacing my fingers through it. “It doesn’t happen to be a milkshake, because that would just make this whole thing better.”
I may or may not have texted him that I wanted a chocolate milkshake from my favo
rite ice cream place, so it isn’t that much of a surprise.
“I love you.” He laughs as we make our way to his car.
“I love you.” I snuggle into his shoulder.
The word I don’t add to the end of it is more, because I know he’ll only start debating with me. But I do. I love him just a teeny bit more, because I’m the emotional one and because he’s showed me a life where loving someone means being there for them in their most wonderful times and their most ugly times.
Who knew that my secret fling from summer camp would end up being my forever? I had no idea back then how much skinny dipping in a fountain would change my life.
But I’m damn glad it did.
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Also by Carrie Aarons
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Standalones:
Fool Me Twice
Hometown Heartless
The Tenth Girl
You’re the One I Don’t Want
Privileged
Elite
Red Card
Down We’ll Come, Baby
As Long As You Hate Me
All the Frogs in Manhattan
Save the Date
Melt
When Stars Burn Out
Ghost in His Eyes
On Thin Ice
Kissed by Reality
The Rogue Academy Series:
The Second Coming
The Lion Heart
The Mighty Anchor
The Nash Brothers Series:
Fleeting
Forgiven
Flutter
Falter
The Flipped Series:
Nerdy Little Secret Page 18