THE SUN DIPS low in the sky and covers the dashboard in yellows and reds. We were stuck in traffic for an hour, I-95 backing up for miles in a gridlock because of an accident outside Baltimore.
I didn’t want to leave Shawn’s parents’ house, and it was hard to drive away. We spent forty-five minutes saying goodbye, and it still wasn’t long enough. I want to be back there already, an ache in my chest the further away we drive.
“How do you want to do presents?” Shawn asks as we approach the city. “I have your gifts at my place.”
“And I have yours at my place. We really should have thought this through,” I laugh. The bracelets his nieces made for me jangle on my wrist, and I touch the beads. “Poor planning on our part.”
“I can drop you off, head to my apartment, then come back to your place? I can pick up dinner on the way, too, then we can dive into some dessert and presents.”
“Sounds like a great plan to me. What are you in the mood for?”
“Italian? You like spaghetti, right?”
“Shawn, you saw me eat two plates of your mother’s lasagna. Of course I like spaghetti, and it scares me that there are people out there who don’t.”
He laughs and taps his fingers against the steering wheel. “Italian it is. Should I grab some garlic bread?”
“The answer to that question should always be yes. I have a pie in the freezer, and I’ll take it out when I go up. I’m not sure it will thaw in time, but we’ll give it a shot.”
“Is it one you made?” Shawn asks, and his excitement bleeds through the question. He wiggles in his seat a little, and I smile. “I’ve been craving your baking.”
“It’s apple. Is that okay?”
“Lacey, you could feed me a pie made of dirt and I’d eat it. Forget food and presents. I’m coming straight up.”
“No way. I have things I need to get ready for you.”
“Things? I thought we were only doing one or two gifts.”
“To be fair, we didn’t specify numbers. They all reminded me of you, and I couldn’t resist.” I gnaw on my bottom lip and twist my hands together. “I hope I didn’t go overboard.”
“There’s no way you did.” He grins at me from across the car, and the last rays of sunlight sneak in through the window behind him. It almost looks like he’s glowing, and he seems so happy. “Besides, I have a stack for you, too.”
“I’m beginning to think gift giving is your love language.”
“It’s definitely my love language, especially for people like you.”
“What do you mean?”
His eyes flick over to me in the quickest of glances, and his grin settles into something softer around the edges. Quieter in his heart. “People I care about very much.”
“Oh.” I gulp down a breath and scoop up his words. I commit them to memory so I can still have them close by in case they ever try to sneak away. “I care about you too,” I blurt out. “You know that, right?”
I’m desperate for him to know it.
Shawn keeps his attention on the road but reaches for me across the center console. His hand finds mine, his palm smooth and warm, and intertwines our fingers. “I do. It’s one of my favorite things about you.”
There’s a pressure in my chest. It’s not quite an ache but something more pleasant. Something warm and delightful that begins to sprout and grow like a flower in the spring the longer his hand is in mine.
Suddenly I feel it everywhere; on the back of my knees. In my belly. Between my breasts and at the base of my spine.
It envelops me, engulfs me, a welcomed hug I haven’t felt in years.
Maybe I’ve never felt it all.
Not like this, and not until this moment right here, because it’s never been this nice.
Love.
Every second I’m with him, I fall a little deeper. Soon I’ll be twenty feet underground without a way out.
I don’t think I ever want to climb out.
I love him so much, with every corner of my soul and every beat of my heart.
You love him, it says.
You’ve loved him for a long time.
“You okay?” he asks. He squeezes my hand and gives my arm a little shake. I feel the sensation there, too, in the valley between my fingers where his grip locks into mine. “Where did you go, Lacey girl?”
“Nowhere,” I say, and I realize I’m staring at him the exact same way he stared at me on his parents’ roof. Maybe he loves me, too. “I’m right here.”
We pull up to my apartment ten minutes later and find a lucky spot out front. Shawn grabs my bags from the trunk and wheels my suitcase to the sidewalk. My fingers curl around the handle, and we stare at each other.
“I’ll be right back,” he says, but his feet don’t move. “Thirty minutes, tops.”
“Take your time. You know where I’ll be. Just buzz when you get here, and I’ll let you up.”
“Okay.” He steps toward me, and the toes of his sneakers bump mine. His hand rests on my cheek, in the spot he always finds. “Text me if you need me, alright?”
“I will.” I reach up and kiss him in the middle of the crowded sidewalk because I want to, and I really don’t care who sees. “I can’t wait to see you again.”
His lips curve up. “Flirting with me, Daniels?”
“In your dreams, Holmes. I just really want some presents.”
“At least you’re honest.” Shawn taps my hip, his fingers fanning out over my waist. “Let me move my car before I get a ticket. That would be a mood killer.”
“Okay.” I pat his chest. “Go. I’ll see you soon.”
He takes my hand in his and kisses each finger. “Soon.”
I watch him drive off, and I didn’t know it was possible to miss someone when they just left, but I do.
I SPEED CLEAN MY APARTMENT.
I take out the trash. I make my bed and arrange the pillows in a neat little line. I wipe down the kitchen counters and light a candle.
It feels like I’m getting ready for a date, and a nervous buzz of energy zips through me.
Shawn knocks on the door twenty-nine minutes later, gifts tucked under one arm and a bag of food tucked under the other.
“Talk about punctual,” I say. “I’m impressed.”
“I’m a man of my word. I would’ve been here sooner if I didn’t have to circle around the block six times trying to find parking. And don’t even get me started on that garage across the street. I’d lose my mind if I had to spend half my life in that damn building of hell.”
“It’s shitty, isn’t it? That garage is the sole reason I take the Metro. The only cars that can fit in those spots are Mini Coopers. You’re screwed if you have something bigger than a sedan.” I gesture to his arms. “Can I help with anything?”
“Nah, I got it.”
He heads for the living room and puts the gifts under the Christmas tree next to the presents I have for him. He’s careful as he sets them down on the tree skirt, and he makes sure you can see all the boxes and bags. It looks like a family lives here, and my heart stutters in my chest.
I’ve never had presents under the tree from someone else before.
“Food first,” I say, and I pull down two plates. “We need to have full stomachs for gift giving.”
“I was a little overwhelmed with menu options,” Shawn admits. The paper bag he slides across the counter is ripping at the seams. Cutlery sticks out from the top, and one handle is broken. “I didn’t know if you wanted regular spaghetti. Spaghetti carbonara. With or without meatballs. Cacio e Pepe. So, I ordered all of them.”
“Holy shit.” I unload the four boxes and burst out laughing. It looks like a buffet line spread out in my kitchen, complete with an entire loaf of garlic bread. “The chef probably thought you were ordering for six people.”
“Or sixteen. Wrong; I’m just one indecisive asshole.” He sits on the barstool and motions for me to join him. “Have you talked to your parents the last couple of days?”
“I called them yesterday when you were in the shower after the snowball fight. They sound good; my mom is learning how to crochet, and she said she’s making me a hat. My dad complained about the Orlando basketball team after another loss. Pretty typical conversation for us.”
“I’m glad they’re doing well.” Shawn serves a helping of all four dishes onto my plate. “Dig in, Daniels.”
I start with the carbonara, and I hum my approval. “What would you eat as your last meal on Earth? If there was an asteroid approaching the planet and you only had twenty-four hours to live, tell me what you’d pick to snack on in your dying minutes.”
“I love when things get morbid at the dinner table. Let’s see. I’d do a combo meal. Chips and salsa, for sure. That was my go-to snack after practice back when I was in the league. I feel like you can’t go wrong with a nice, juicy burger. Throw some pickles and mustard on there with a single tomato? Fuck, I would murder that thing. For dessert I’d either pick you or one of your pumpkin pies.”
“I would be dessert?” I laugh and take another bite of my pasta. “Of everything you could have, you’d pick me?”
“Have you tasted yourself?” Shawn asks, and he lifts an eyebrow. “You’re delicious. Now I’m imagining eating pumpkin pie off of you, and I’m getting hard.”
“That’s all it takes? You sure are easy to please. Hell, we could do that after dinner and presents.”
“I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.” He taps my foot and nods. “What would you pick?”
“I agree with you on the chips and salsa. Some good queso would be nice too.” I rip off a piece of garlic bread and toss it in my mouth. “I have to pick sushi, obviously. I’d commit a murder for a good spicy salmon roll. Dessert I’d go with chocolate brownies. Fudgy, gooey, delicious things.”
“Kind of pissed you didn’t choose my dick, but I’ll let it slide,” Shawn says, and he twirls his noodles around his fork. “It’s too bad I can’t build an asteroid-proof bunker in twenty-four hours so I can survive and keep eating his spaghetti. This might be my new favorite place.”
“How’d you find out about it?” I ask. “You don’t strike me as someone who eats out a lot.”
His mouth curls into a grin. “I did a lot of eating out on the bathroom counter a couple of nights ago,” he says, and I throw a napkin at his head. “Nah, I prefer to cook. I like being in the kitchen. Dallas recommended it to me, and it gets my stamp of approval.”
“Mine, too.” I slurp down a noodle. “Back to practice for you all tomorrow, right?”
“Yup. We’ll see who got off the couch in the last week, and who spent their time drinking eggnog. Don’t forget we’re hanging out with Maggie and Aiden at the end of this week, too, when they get back from their trip.” Shawn wipes his hands and nudges his empty plate away. “Can you eat faster, please?” he asks, and a demand has never sounded so polite. “We have lots to get to.”
“Like presents and pie?”
“Exactly, Lacey girl. The most important things in life.”
“I’ll come back and finish. Let’s do some unwrapping.”
