I still haven’t worked up enough nerve to tell Asher I want me and the baby to stay with him permanently. He’s installing my cabinets soon, the last piece of finishing my house aside from paint touch-ups, which means that conversation needs to happen soon. Because I’m almost out of time. Though, right now, all I want to do is enjoy this moment, this evening.
“Come on then, we’ve got a good selection tonight. I think you’ll be proud of me. I worked fucking hard on picking the movie lineup.”
It’s only now that I notice a small outdoor projector set up on the table, pointed at the brick of the back wall on his house.
“Oh yeah?” I laugh, sitting down and picking up a slice of pizza. It’s topped with everything I’ve been craving. Mainly all the meat. “What’ve you got, Reed?”
Asher takes a seat beside me, sliding his hand up my thigh and over my leggings. Those familiar sparks crackle at my skin with just the simplest touch. On my top half, I’m wearing a cute, oversized, wine cable-knit sweater. Today was just one of those days I needed to be comfy.
“Hey, you joke, but I took this shit seriously,” he scolds, wagging a finger at me. “Even looked online for the best rom-coms. These are ranked.Cosmosays so.”
I laugh a little more as I watch him, utterly in awe of his thoughtfulness.
“We’ve got some classics tonight. First up, it’sNever Been Kissed.And then, for the later o’clock showing, with dessert”—he leans in to kiss me—“maybe after a nice hot shower—” Goosebumps break out over my skin. “Maybe a massage … We’ll be playing everyone’s favorite,Pretty Woman.”
This night sounds like pure heaven. I settle in beside him, satisfied but also unsure of how to put my current feelings into words. No one has ever taken care of me like this, and with everything I’ve planned for all my life, since that little journal I started when I was nine, I never planned forhim,the perfect blend of sin and grace. And the way he treats me? It almost makes me feel like maybe none of this was by chance, and maybe there’s a world where Asher Reed wasmeantto be mine.
“Awww, remember this one?” my mom says the next evening, passing me a photo of my fifteenth birthday. Asher and I have stopped by for dinner to bring my parents their own copy of our twenty-two-week scan.
I look down at the next photo my mom hands me; it’s of me, Ginger, and Cece at the local roller-skating rink. We’re so young and carefree, with our arms wrapped around one another. Ginger’s hair is pin-straight—back then she hated her curls—and all of us are wearing Twilight T-shirts. CeCe and I have Edward Cullen on ours and Ginger is wearing a Chief Swan T-shirt that saysTeam Charlie.Funny now since she’s married to the town sheriff.
I pass it to Asher. “My mom was never not taking photos.” “It’s the most important thing you can do!” she defends, continuing to rummage through the box of pictures. I squeeze her hand; it’s the best thing she could’ve ever done. Being able to look back on the life my parents gave me is the biggest blessing.
“I had a slight obsession with Twilight that year, and the party was an all-nighter,” I admit as Asher examines the photo. My dad chuckles. “I remember the manager’s face when I told him I wanted to rent the rink for the whole night.”
“Twilight?” Asher asks, brows raised in question. “The book series?” I blink up at him. “The movies? The billion-dollar franchise?”
He stares back at me, utterly clueless. “Edward and Jacob?”
I add.
Asher shakes his head. “Basically, it’s four movies about a regular girl who has to choose whether she loves a wolf or a vampire more,” my dad chimes in.
“Five actually,” I remind him. “Right.” My dad lets out a loud laugh, mock shock on his face. “How could I forgetBreaking Dawn Part Two?”
“I hope she chose the wolf,” Asher comments.
I look at my mom then back at him. “Nope.”
He shakes his head. “Stupid move.” “Why?” “Because a wolf can protect her. Plus, he won’t eat her. So there’s that.”
“Edward—the vampire—doesn’teather, he onlywantsto. Until she becomes a vampire anyway. Then the wolf falls out of love with her and he imprints on her baby.”
Asher’s jaw falls slack and he rubs his forehead and chuckles. “Imprints? All due respect, but what thefuckkind of movie is this?”
My mom and dad laugh at his assessment. When you say it out loud, I guess it does sound weird.
“You had to be there.” I swat at him, unable to hold myself back from laughing too.
My mom looks to both of us, a warm smile on her face. She hands me an empty photo album.
“I thought you could choose photos to put in this album. That way”—she steadies her voice—“the baby can look through it when he or she gets older. Get to know their mom a little better.”
“Thank you, Mom,” I say. “This is amazing.”
She shrugs. “You used to love spending hours looking through Nana’s photos. And now your baby can do the same.”
My eyes glisten as she pats my hand and we both bask in the memories.
