“What made you pick Verona?” she asks as she turns her attention to preparing our beverages.
Shit.
I don’t want to lie to her, but I can’t tell her the truth.
“I heard about the inn where Easton stayed,” I tell her a believable lie. “I thought I’d check it out. Something about the town called to me, and I decided to stay.”
You called to me.
I couldn’t stay away, and I watched you like a stalker. I wormed my way into your life, and now I’m making you care about me.
Guilt pours into my chest, and I feel bad about what I’m doing, even though I know I can’t stop.
Lick comes back inside, and Kelcie glances my way. She stops stirring the coffee, worry flickering across her features. “What’s wrong?”
For someone who hates lying, it comes way too easily to me. “Just a bad memory.”
She picks up the mug and brings it to me. When I take it from her, she shuts the still-open back door, then asks, “Want to talk about it?”
My mind races to come up with a memory from my childhood, and when I lock onto one, I say, “Let’s go back to the living room, where it’s warmer.”
She brings her tea, and this time I don’t sit on the same couch as her.
I drink some of the coffee before I admit, “I hate birthdays.” I suck in a deep breath of air before I let it out slowly. “At first, I thought it was something our family didn’t celebrate, but when my half brother was born, our parents would make a big deal about his birthday. Every year, they threw him a party with all the bells and whistles.” Hatred and a feeling of worthlessness shudder through me. “For my eighth birthday, I asked for a cake. That’s all I wanted. A cake in the shape of a car.” A bitter chuckle escapes me. “They said no, and like every other birthday, I was ignored. But then, when my half brother’s birthday came around, they gave him the cake I asked for. That’s when I realized they hated me.”
When I look up, Kelcie is wiping a tear from her cheek. She shakes her head, and as more tears fall, she gets up and comes to sit beside me. She places her arms around me, and when a sob sputters from her, I don’t care about the repercussions and pull her onto my lap.
We hold each other as if our lives would end if we didn’t, and the tears she’s crying for me flow into the cracks in my heart, making the most intense emotion I’ve ever experienced sprout inside me.
I love her.
Done with another chapter, I save the manuscript before standing up and stretching out.
It’s been two weeks since I realized I love Kelcie, and we’ve spent every night since together. During the day, I write my ass off, too fucking thankful the writer’s block is gone.
“Levi?” Kelcie calls.
“In my office.” Leaving the room, I walk toward the kitchen.
Kelcie appears, and grabbing hold of my hand, she pulls me out the back door.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“I have a surprise for you.” She stops outside of her house, and there’s so much excitement on her face, it looks like she’s going to burst. “It’s something small, and I hope I’m not overstepping.”
She opens her door, and I’m pulled inside, then she shouts, “Happy pretend birthday.”
My body freezes as my gaze jumps over the blue and white balloons that are floating against the ceiling. When I see the red sports car cake and wrapped presents, the air is knocked from my lungs.
I can’t remember when I last cried, but as I stare at everything, my eyes begin to sting.
“Kelcie.” I breathe her name like it’s a prayer, and the love I feel for her becomes a living force I can’t contain.
“Do you like it?” she asks, a cautious smile wavering around her lips.
“I ...” I shake my head, and when her expression morphs into worry, I hurry to say, “I love it.”
I close the distance between us, and lifting my hands, I frame her face. Just as I lean down, it registers what I’m doing, and at the last possible second, I turn my head and press a kiss to her cheek.
