* * *
And I’m so damn grateful you’re my brilliant schemer.
* * *
I have all the evidence one could want attesting to your date-planning skills.
* * *
You made me like a candle-making class.
* * *
That should have been impossible.
* * *
But you took me to one, and that night you introduced me to all the delights of candle wax.
* * *
Brilliant and beautiful—that’s the woman I married.
* * *
Do you know what else I’ve learned since I’ve dated you?
* * *
I’ve learned to never say never.
* * *
Never close the door on a crazy class, because the next fantastic night could be right around the corner.
* * *
Though, admittedly, I never thought our next date would be an art class.
* * *
You already know how I feel about classes, cupcake.
* * *
And a how-to-paint-a-bird class?
* * *
Oi.
* * *
But I went because I adore you.
* * *
And because I knew we’d make it ours.
* * *
Your painted swan was horrible. Mine was infinitely worse.
* * *
You told me as much, and we cracked up, laughing over our hideous swans.
* * *
And I love laughing with you.
* * *
That’s how you made a wretched class fun.
* * *
You know what else is fun? Kissing you like crazy in Central Park.
* * *
We did that the next day in a do-over of one of the best dates I’ve ever had—swan boats.
* * *
The vendor did give us the evil eye when we put down our deposit, didn’t he? Pretty sure he recognized us as the scofflaws we are. But so worth it. Because recreating that kiss with you in the middle of the lake on a swan boat was simply magic.
* * *
I get lost in your kisses. I forget about time and place and reason— everything but you.
* * *
Later, after we left the park, I forgot the world again when I took you to bed.
* * *
Something I always want to do with you.
* * *
I crave you, love you, adore you.
* * *
Let’s toast to new date nights, and new places to vacation, and new awful classes that we have a blast taking, and messing up, and laughing at.
* * *
The world is ours to explore.
* * *
The day you decided to make me your sexy letter-writing partner-in-crime was the best day of my life.
* * *
Your Sexy (Sexiest!) Ex-Boyfriend
I flick the piece over to Matthew’s inbox and write Summer back with one word.
Perfect.
When the clock strikes five, Bryn calls, demanding I meet her right away at Gin Joint.
I oblige, zipping over to Chelsea, finding my bestie waiting on a plush sapphire-blue lounge.
She pops up, grinning wildly, and I know why. She texted me a week ago when it happened, and now I get to gawk.
“Show me,” I demand.
She flashes me her ring, a stunning emerald-cut diamond, gorgeous and so damn big. “They say size doesn’t matter, but when it comes to diamonds and dicks, I say it does,” I declare.
Bryn laughs deeply, pats my chest before wrapping me in a hug, and says, “And in friendship.”
“Wait, are you saying the size of my boobs matters?”
“No, your heart, sweetie.” Breaking the embrace, she taps my breastbone. “Your big, soft, mushy heart.”
I let go, bring a finger to my lips, and say, “Shh. Don’t tell anyone.”
I grab a drink, and we catch up. She tells me everything about her vacation to Canada, and I tell her about dating Ransom, and when I ask when she’s getting married, she says in the winter in Cancun.
“You’re coming, right?” she asks.
“Destination wedding? I’m there.”
“And you’ll be with Ransom?”
I tense, all my muscles going tight. My throat is dry. Will I be with Ransom then? I hope so. But even if we’re not, that won’t change anything about my friendship with Bryn.
“I plan to. But I’ll be there, with or without him.”
The words come more easily than I could have imagined before taking a risk with Ransom. It feels right to say them.
More so, it feels right to believe them.
Later that night, Ransom comes over, and when I yank open the door, I feel different.
Freer.
Like a weight has been lifted.
Truth be told, the weight’s been coming off for some time. Maybe the last of it is gone now. Or maybe voicing my certainty to Bryn made me take notice.
I pull him inside, needing to touch him, unable to resist him. I plant a hot, sensual kiss on his lips, sighing against him, savoring the taste of him.
When we break the kiss, he gives me a curious look. “You’re in an interesting mood today.”
I’m fluttery. I’m tingling. And I should feel nervous, but I don’t. I’m ready to say the words filling up my heart.
“It’s because I’m falling in love with you,” I say, and for a split second, I brace for the pain or the worry to slam into me.
