I’m doing what I love, surrounded by people who care about me and support my dreams. Life is good, and I’m profoundly grateful for every moment of it.
I’m just about to turn and walk back inside when someone yells my name from behind me, “Slo!”
I turn, and my smile broadens as I see Saylor jogging toward me. Thanks to a lot of hard work and physiotherapy, he’s managed to regain most of his strength and mobility. Aside from the occasional muscle spasm here and there, he’s doing well. Watching him move with such ease now, it’s hard to believe how far he’s come since waking up. His determination and resilience have been nothing short of amazing.
He looks incredible, his hair the usual tousled mess that somehow still always seems perfectly in place. His ocean blue eyes are sparkling with that familiar twinkle, and his grin, revealing those charming dimples, lights up his entire face. He’s dressed casually yet nicely in his good jeans and a navy hoodie.
Sometimes, when it’s been a few hours since I last saw him, the change in him catches me off guard. I can still picture him as the twenty-three-year-old I fell in love with. But now, he looks his thirty-five-year-old self—more mature, more manly—and one of the men who has a firm grasp on my heart.
“I missed your face,” I say as he comes closer, the warmth in my voice reflecting the depth of my feelings for him. His presence always brings a sense of completeness, a feeling of being exactly where I belong.
The feeling that we’ve made it.
“Then come kiss it…” he grins, leaning in to give me a peck, “… or sit on it, or both.”
“Stop.” I giggle, but he pulls me in for a long, deep kiss, making my heart flutter.
The tingles never stopped.
When he breaks the kiss, he asks breathlessly, “You guys ready?”
“Sure, or at least I am. Let me go fetch North,” I tell him, walking into the shop with him following me inside. He comes to stand next to the car that was brought in earlier today, a 1970 Chevrolet Chevelle SS 454.
“Well, hello beautiful,” he greets the car, rubbing his hands together.
“Uh-uh!” I point a finger at him. “You’re wearing your nice clothes, and this one is mine!”
He steps up to me and grips my wrist, biting my finger, eliciting a chuckle from me.
Saylor started working for me the day I opened the shop. Initially, he handled only the easy, small jobs, but I taught him everything I learned over the years. Now, he’s as good as I am.
This boy became obsessed with cars and worked his ass off to be able to do this with me.
And I fucking love him for it.
I walk to the back and knock on the office door on the left, expecting North’s rough “Come in.” Instead, the door swings open, and he stands there in front of me.
In all his glorious hotness.
He’s got some gray streaks at his temples, which I find so damn sexy. Whenever I lay in his arms, I love to let my fingers glide through them, feeling the contrast against the rest of his dark, wavy hair. The subtle signs of aging only add to his appeal.
“Ready.” He smiles, leaning in to give me a peck. “Sorry, had to finish up the numbers for this month.”
“All good. I just finished up too,” I assure him, taking his hand.
He leads me out to the shop where Saylor is peering through the Chevelle’s window, his hands cupping around his eyes to block out the light.
“How was it? Was she as polite as she was on the phone?” North asks me about the reading I had half an hour ago, and I nod with a smile.
“It was good. I think she got the closure she needed. And yes, she was very nice. Thanks for vetting her.”
“Good.” North nods as Saylor joins us. “Ready for your second birthday party, little bro?”
“It’s your second birthday party too. Areyouready, Thundercunt?” Saylor teases back.
Every year, Hunter, Tally, and Tim insist on celebrating our second birthdays—the day Nash and North returned from sea and Saylor woke up. I used to argue that I didn’t deserve tohave a second birthday, but they always include me, saying it was the day I survived my, as Hunter puts it,reckless rescue mission. I’ve stopped resisting and now just go with the flow. After all, we’re celebrating life, something I can wholeheartedly get behind.
As we enter Shannon’s, I’m immediately enveloped by the warm, cozy atmosphere. Inside, the tables are closely arranged so we can all sit together. The sound of lively music fills the air, blending seamlessly with the cheerful buzz of conversation. Balloons in vibrant colors are strung up around the room.
