“Keep talking in bed, River,” he says, then stage whispers, “It works.”
“Duly noted. Or should I say . . . dirty noted. Anyway, what’s my genius?”
“Last night you said you didn’t want to lose me. And your solution was you’d have to be the best boyfriend ever.”
“I did say that,” I say, taking his hand, holding it, squeezing my fingers through his.
“So I think our new Harry and Rod rule is just that. And I have a name for it too. But first, the rule is just to be good to each other. To treat each other well. To take care of each other in bed and out of bed,” Owen says, and he’s so damn swoony that if I weren’t driving, I would kiss him senseless.
But I can use words. “You deserve to be kissed senseless,” I tell him.
“Can you put that on your schedule tonight in San Francisco? Say, around seven, when we’re back in the city?”
“I can, and I will. You also deserve Bugatti blow jobs and sex that’s better than cake, and you deserve to have your body worshipped by my tongue,” I say, and he lets out a low growl of appreciation. I squeeze his hand harder. “And to go to Santa Fe and check out immersive art, and to meet me for coffee and London Fog lattes, but consider yourself warned that you’re going to be subjected to a lot of PDA from your boyfriend when we’re out in public. But I will also make you a big, fat promise, Owen Hayes.”
“Have at it.”
I tear my gaze from the road for a second. “I will never kiss you with garlic breath.”
“Ah,” he says, affecting a broken sigh, like he’s choking up. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
“Get ready. There’s a lot more where that came from. I don’t just have a big dick. I have a big heart. And you get both.”
“Bring them on,” Owen says.
“Speaking of, I might have to revise my Big Dick Law too.”
“The one where the bigger the dick, the bigger the dick?” he asks, proving once again that he knows me so well.
“That’s the one.”
Owen scoffs, grabs his crotch. “River Michaels, I am going to make you eat those words every single day.”
I groan appreciatively. “You better.”
My boyfriend and I chat the rest of the way to my sister’s house, enjoying every second of this brand-new pact.
The one he says we should call the boyfriend pact.
I’m so glad he took the chance with me.
25
Owen
Delilah slathers River in kisses, whimpering endlessly, jumping up into his arms on the front porch.
“Someone got spoiled by her aunt, but someone still likes you best,” Echo says to her brother.
“She knows who gives her gourmet biscuits,” he says, then stands, petting and scratching the dog as he circles his hand around my arm. “By the way, we’re a thing.”
Echo arches a brow. “Excuse me?”
“Owen and I,” he says, like it’s patently obvious. Maybe it is. “We’re together now.”
She shakes her head, like she’s processing this news. “You two?”
“Well, what other Owen would I be talking about?”
She points at me, then him. “You’re together? You’ve been friends for eight years, and now you’re together after one weekend?”
I shrug, give her a smile. “Snow. What can you do?”
River drapes an arm around me, then smacks his lips to my cheek. “Exactly. One road trip, one snowfall, and one cabin equals two very happy guys.”
Echo shimmies her shoulders, then lets out an epic squeal. She throws her arms around the two of us. Even though I’m not a hugger, I’ll happily take this one.
When she lets go, she says, “I was hoping you’d both see what was right in front of you.”
Once we’re back in the car, River doesn’t start the engine straight away. He turns around and sweet talks his dog for a few minutes as Delilah wags her tail, her tongue lolling from her mouth.
When he’s done lavishing attention on his dog wife, he turns to me. “You get the appeal of Paul Rudd now, don’t you?”
“I never didn’t. But I also get the appeal of Clueless. Sometimes the person you’re looking for has been in front of you all along,” I say, meeting his gaze.
River shrugs helplessly in surrender. “That’s it. You’re getting kissed senseless right now.”
He makes good on that promise for a hot, delirious minute, then turns the engine, and we cruise onto the highway to the city. Along the way, we tackle an important topic—safe sex. We’re both negative for everything, so we decide to ditch the condoms. Hallelujah. When River pulls up in front of my place, parking at the curb, he lets out a deep sigh. “So, cutie. Here’s the thing.”
I groan. “Nothing good ever came of the words here’s the thing.”
“Hello! Boyfriend pact. Have a little faith.”