The memorial wasn’t at all what I expected. It wasn’t a somber affair focused on Ryan’s death and everything we lost. It was a celebration of his life, and the joy he brought to ours.
I glance up at the moonlit sky and count the stars, stalling while I work up the courage to do something I swore I’d never do.
“This feels so stupid.” I push up my sleeves and start again. “But on the off chance that you’re out there and you can hear me, I have to try.”
“I’ve thought back over all the years you’ve missed, and I can’t think of anything consequential that you’d give two shits about. I’ve been stagnant. Matter of fact, you might as well have taken me with you that day. Maybe subconsciously, I felt like I didn’t deserve to really live. I convinced myself, by whatever fucked up logic, that if you weren’t going to experience life, I wouldn’t either.”
I sigh and run my fingers through my hair. “Then I found Callie. God, Ryan, you’d love her. She’s the best part of my day, and I didn’t even see her coming. My life was in shambles when she found me—maybe it still is—but she makes the mess bearable.”
I run my hands down my face, and they come away wet. I didn’t even notice I was crying.
“I’m gonna ask her to marry me. I know what you’re thinking—she’s crazy to say yes. You’re not wrong, but I have to try. I want you there, man. I want you standing by my side when I vow to love, honor, and cherish her for the rest of my life. Promise me you’ll be there, yeah? I’ll save you a seat. And if you see Jess, tell her we love her, too.”
The screen door opens and closes quietly. Callie sinks down beside me. “We have to stop meeting like this.”
I sniffle and force a tight-lipped smile. “Thought you were sleeping.”
“I was. Heard your truck.” She presses her palm to my cheek and glides her thumb under my eye. “What are you doing out here?”
“I was just talking to Ryan.”
She nods silently. “Do you want to talk or forget?”
I stand and offer her my hand. “How about a third option?”
Chapter 35
Beautiful. Strong. Resilient
? It’s Your Love - Tim McGraw, Faith Hill
Callie
Jaxon liftsme into his strong arms and carries me to our room. He sits me on the side of the bed and kneels down at my feet.
I lean forward and cradle his face in both hands. “Why does option three feel an awful lot like forgetting?”
“Do you trust me?”
“You know I do.”
He presses his lips to mine for an achingly sweet kiss as his hands find the waistband of my shorts, tugging them off. He reaches for my tank top next and pulls it over my head. “How is it possible that you get more beautiful every day?”
I can’t help the smile that blooms at his praise. He lays me back against the pillows, and I’m transfixed by his magnificence as he strips off his shirt. My fingers itch to touch him—to feel each defined ridge of his artful body.
He pads over to his dresser and opens the top drawer, pulling out a familiar scrap of fabric and something else along with it. “You are in control here. Remember that.”
My stomach flutters nervously. “Ok.”
Jaxon ties the bandana around my eyes, and the room descends into darkness. He then takes both of my wrists in one hand and lifts them above my head. Something soft wraps around them, like silk. There’s a slight tug when he releases me, and I realize he’s just bound my wrists to the headboard.
My pulse picks up.
“Jax. What are you doing?”
“Do you still trust me?”
“Always.”
