Page 70 of Forgotten Dreams
“No, Sierra,” I say, “I mean, after you find your parents, what is going to happen?” I put my hands on my hips. “Are you going to stay here, or are you leaving and going back to your old house?”
“What?” she whispers.
“I just started the business here,” I say, and confusion is written all over her face. My mouth just spews out words, and I don’t even know if I’m making any sense, really. “I can’t just up and leave, and now with you and starting this thing with you. I don’t even…” I close my eyes, trailing off. “I’m in love with you.” The gasp that leaves her lips is hard for me to hear, and her hand goes to cover her mouth. “Yeah, so I’m really wondering what is going on here?”
“You love me?” she asks, and now I’m the one who is confused by it.
“Did I not just say I did?”
“Yes, but you also were ranting, so I just let you go, but you said it.” She points at me. “You said you love me.”
“Yeah, I did,” I acknowledge. “I also told my parents about you today.”
“Oh my.” She puts her hand on her forehead.
“And I want you to come and meet them.”
“But—”
“Do you not feel the same way about me?” I ask, the floor feeling like it’s being pulled from under my feet. “It’s fine if you don’t. I just wanted you to know how I feel about you.”
“I’m staying here,” she says, “because even though I didn’t grow up here, I feel like this is my home.” She smiles as the tear escapes the corner of one eye. “And with you, it just solidified it. This is where my home is supposed to be.” She smiles through the tears. “I haven’t told my parents about you, but I will. Tomorrow.” She walks to me. “I love you, Caleb.” She puts her hands on her hips. “And for the rest of my life, I’m going to have to live with the fact that you said it first, and that really fucking pisses me off.” I can’t help but laugh, pulling her to me. “Unless, if you really love me, you would say I said it first.”
I bend down to kiss her lips, but right before, I retort, “Not a chance in hell, baby.” I rub my nose to hers. I said it first, my lips hovering over hers, saying, “I love you.”
I walk into the bathroom and see her standing at her side of the sink, the hair dryer going as she brushes her roller brush through it. “You want to go out tonight?” I ask her, and she looks at me in the mirror.
“Go out?” she asks me. “Where?”
“How about we head over to the bar?” I say. “We can also get something to eat.”
“Okay,” she says, “I’ll be ready in about thirty minutes. Be ready to be romanticized.”
I chuckle. “Okay, baby, whatever you say.” I turn and head over to the closet, slipping on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. I’m snapping my watch shut when she comes into the closet, and the robe is flying away from her legs.
“Wait for me downstairs,” she tells me, and my eyebrows pinch together. “I want what I’m wearing to be a surprise.”
“Okay”—I turn to walk out of the closet—“but wear something I can tear off easily under it.”
She gasps. “You will not rip any of my things off.” She shoos me away with both her hands. “Go away.”
“Fine,” I say, walking back to her and holding her face in my hands as I kiss her lips, “I can’t wait for me to be romanticized.” My hands move from her face around to her ass, squeezing it and pulling her into me. “Is that code for we’re going to do nasty things to each other tonight?”
“You always do nasty things to me.” She pushes me away.
“Don’t pretend you don’t like it,” I say, turning and walking out of the room. “Maybe we can take out the purple friends, and I can.”
“Caleb!” she shouts my name. “Get out!”
“Fine.” I try not to laugh as I walk down the steps and head to the kitchen, turning off all the lights before going to the living room and walking over to her library. Scanning the names of the books before taking them down and reading them back. I hear the sound of her clicking on the way down the stairs. I put the book down and head toward the entrance. I see black boots first and then legs, a lot of fucking legs. Before the blue jean skirt hits the middle of her upper thigh, I see bare skin and her shoulder all out. The black top looks like it’s wrapped around her neck.
“Before you do anything,” she says, stopping at the bottom step. “This is wrapped around my neck”—she points to the top—“so it has to be taken off gently over my head.”
“That’s good to know,” I tell her. “Now go and change and put something else on.”
She laughs, and I don’t move. “I’m not kidding with you.” I shake my head. “I’m not going out with you looking like a sex kitten.”
She laughs as she puts her hand on my abs. “It’s all for you.” She kisses under my jaw. “I take it you approve of this outfit.”
