I take a seat then lower my head almost as if I’m in church, but I’m not asking God, or a saint, or even a ghost. I’m asking a friend, who happens to be on the other side.
My voice is low, barely a whisper. “I miss you, buddy. I
miss you a hell of a lot. But we’re doing great things, and I know you’d be proud of what we built. You’d be proud of your sister, too. She’s an amazing woman, bright and beautiful and confident. She has great friends, and she knows what she wants in life.”
I hope I’m part of what she wants.
I heave a sigh then say the next thing, the hardest part. But once the words are out, there’s nothing tough about saying them. They are the truest words I’ve ever spoken.
“I didn't plan on falling in love with her. But it happened. And you know what I think? What I hope, at least? That you would tell me to go for it. Even though you’d grumble. Even though you’d threaten me with bodily injury at first, warn me never to hurt her. But in the end, I think you’d say to go for it because you’d know I’ll treat her right. And I will, Sean. I will treat her like she’s the most adored woman on the planet, because she is, and I don’t want to lose this chance at forever.”
Forever.
The word clangs in my brain.
CJ used it last night in the kitchen, while I hunted for the sushi menu.
“Do you think romance can last forever?”
I answer for myself this time.
Yes. Yes, I do. But only if you have the guts to tell the woman you want forever to be with her.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Graham
I run.
I run through the city. I cruise past couples enjoying Sunday evening dates, past families turning in after a day outside in the gorgeous spring weather. I race by guys heading to office buildings to work late on a weekend.
That’s been me.
That was me just last night.
But it’s not who I am now.
I run with more energy than I had when I started this morning. She’s not far away, but walking is for guys who don’t know they’re in love.
I don’t bother heading home to shower. I don’t stop to buy flowers.
CJ doesn’t want or need flowers. This isn’t about that kind of gift. This is about something new, something different. That’s what this has been about all along. She’s the one. She’s always been the one, never been far from my thoughts, even before this week together.
This time I have to go in naked, so to speak. Venture into unfamiliar territory without my usual tool kit of gifts and goodies, of lingerie and flowers. The arsenal of seduction isn’t what I need right now, not tonight.
As soon as I reach her building, I run up the steps, powered by pure adrenaline and a mad need to make sure she knows I love her. I grab my phone and stab my finger against her name, calling her.
My breath comes in harsh pants as I wait for her to answer.
Her voice is shaky, a little surprised as she asks, “Hello?”
“I’m outside. I need to see you.”
There’s a pause. “You’re . . . outside?”
Breathless, more words come. “I’m here at your apartment. I need to see you. I need to see you now, Butterfly.”
Seconds later, the buzzer bleats, and I slam my hands against the door, pushing it open. I take the steps two by two up to the third floor. I turn at the landing and into her hall to find her standing in the doorway of her apartment, looking beautiful and vulnerable, and something else, too.