Not just dreaming about being free butfeelingfree. Feeling like I’menough. Like I’m understood and accepted and imperfect andcelebratedfor being imperfect.
Like I finally know what thatthingis that I’ve wanted but have been afraid of putting into words.
I didn’t have to put it into words though. Theo did it for me.
And it’s notwrong. It’s so right it hurts but in the best way.
I want my entire purpose on this earth to be loving someone with everything I have.Fuck happy. I want a love that’s so much more.
It’s so simple, but soeverything.
Meaning.
I wantmeaning. A purpose. Not just in my work life, but in myhomelife.
“Here. This way.” I pull his hand as we duck back out of the little alcove where I left him cross-eyed and tug him toward a small restaurant with anOpensign in the window. It’s adorable, a cute little blue shack with a sign hanging in the window proclaiming it has the island’s best bacon.
Theo resists.
I ignore him.
I heard his stomach grumble the minute we stepped off of the boat. Heard it again right before I pulled him off the path. And I hear it now, even as he’s resisting.
“Should get back,” he says.
“We wentparasailingand nothing went wrong. We’re keeping this streak up, and I’m feeding you bacon, because that will turn me on.”
He whimpers.
He actually whimpers.
I pause and turn to face him, andoh my god.
I thought he looked atmelike he was falling in love.
Nope.
Start over, Laney.
You are not a plate of bacon.
I pat his ass. “You earned it. Let’s go.”
“Ican’t.”
“Why not?”
He makes a frustrated noise, then points at his abs while he looks up at the blue, blue sky.
I make quick work of buttoning his shirt, sad to see his skin and tats disappearing behind the bright Hawaiian fabric. “There. Now you’re suitable to go inside.”
His lips flatten and he tries to glare at me.
I grin.
He’s so satisfied that he can’t even be mad at me. “I meant I need tolook good, Laney.”
“I’ll take a picture of you eating the bacon. You’ll look great.”
