“That I can live with.”
“Trey! It was your project, your dream, and you gave it up for me.”
“Harper, you still don’t get it. You’re my dream. I would do anything for you, no matter what the price. The only project I actually care about, the only one I’ll never give up, is you and me being together, and all the things we can build.”
“You want a future with me?”
“I guess it sounds nuts, but yeah.”
“You’re a disaster,” I told him.
He laughed and said, “I love disasters. And I love you. I guess I’m just crazy like that.”
I lost myself in the gold of his eyes and couldn’t resist any longer. I jumped at him, captured his lips between mine, pressed my body desperately into his.
And as I melted in his arms and his hands climbed under my clothes, we became that happy ending we had begun writing all those months ago.
Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass…It’s about learning to dance in the rain.
—Vivian Greene
Epilogue
A Guy as Lost as I Am
“You and Other Natural Disasters,” Trey says, his forehead furrowed. “I still don’t get what that title has to do with me.”
The first copies have just arrived at the bookstore. I’m nervous, because tomorrow it goes on sale all over the country. Just the thought of it makes me panic.
“It’s a metaphor,” I tell him, taking books out of their boxes and setting them out on the table.
I run my fingers over the cover of one copy and feel as if I’m starting to float. I still remember like yesterday when Ryan called me to make an offer on my manuscript just a few weeks after I sent it to him. I couldn’t believe it. I still can’t.
“But it’s a good thing, right?” Trey asks. He just can’t let the issue go.
I turn and look at him. He’s so handsome that I fall into a trance every time I do it. We’ve traveled a lot this past summer. To the mountains, to the beach, even briefly to Bluehaven to visit Novalie and Nick. The sun has tanned his skin and lightened his hair, and he looks better than ever. I’m sure I’ll never tire of him—of the ticklish feeling that overcomes me in his presence, of his deep voice, his mirthful laugh, his golden eyes that seem to know everything about me.
“It’s the best thing,” I reassure him.
I look at the clock and realize time is getting away from us. In the bookstore, everything appears to be in order. Since Trey redesigned the interior, it’s brighter and much more spacious, with comfortable furnishings and modern touches, and thanks to him, our clientele has doubled.
I walk to the cash register and take the keys out of the top drawer under the counter. Trey shifts in his chair. He’s hunched over and strangely quiet, and I ask him what he’s doing.
“Reading.”
I run over and snatch the book out of his hands. “Not yet. Please.”
He grabs my wrist and pulls me into his lap, kissing my neck. I melt when I feel his lips on my skin.
“You can’t just hide it from me for the rest of our lives,” he whispers.
I know it’s silly, but I still haven’t let him read it. Our story is in those pages, but so are other things, thoughts so private, so harsh, so ruthlessly honest, that I don’t yet feel ready to share them. I’m scared they might hurt him or make him feel guilty for stuff that’s actually my fault.
“Just wait a little longer,” I whisper.
“Okay.”
He smiles, gives me a squeeze, and nibbles my earlobe.
