Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 128430 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128430 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
“I don’t think I could hide my pride if I saw your art on the walls.”
She lifts again, and we kiss. When she lowers back down, she says, “I didn’t buy you anything. I mean, I didn’t know we would be spending Christmas together, but I made something for you at my apartment.”
“You don’t have to give me anything, Story.”
“Just know, it’s not much.”
“I can’t wait to see it. Come on.” I place a kiss on her head when I pass to pick up my stuff and pack it to go. “Let’s get on the road.”
As she’s getting undressed, her head appears to be swimming with happiness, judging by the smile on her face and that dreamy look in her eyes. “I’m going to be utterly unbearable after being spoiled like this,” she says.
“I think I can handle you.”
I’m hit with a pointed look. “You sure about that?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely.” I wink.
When she walks by me, she pokes me in the chest. “I have no doubt whatsoever.” She winks right back, the sass. I laugh, her lightness contagious. This trip has been quick but amazing for me too.
I’ll never regret choosing her and leaving Haywood yesterday. And then I remember the promise I made to them.
Fuck.
23
Story
It’s a hard adjustment coming back from a five-star hotel to my little rinky-dink studio apartment. There’s not much food stocked in the fridge, but it’s never felt more like home than it does with Cooper here.
Our matching Christmas pajamas are in the washer, and I have a pot of hot water beginning to boil for tea. Towel-drying my hair after taking a shower, I ask, “What do you want to do for dinner? I have some lunch meat and bread, some ramen noodle cups, or when I texted Lila to wish her and Jake a Merry Christmas, she said it was okay for us to go to the coffee shop and make something there. Any of those options sound appealing?”
I struggle to know what to do with him when it comes to things like meals. He has servers and Michelin star dining every night. I’m used to fending for myself on an extremely tight budget. If more places were open tonight, I’d use some of my tips to spoil him.
Spinning to face me from the desk, he asks, “Who’s Jake?”
“Lila’s son.” I hang the towel on the hook inside the bathroom. “He’s five and the sweetest kid. He loves his mama.” When I come back out, I tighten the towel wrapped around my body, and add, “She’s a single mom. The dad skipped town right after Jake was born.”
“That’s too bad.”
“Yeah. There might be a restaurant open?” I ask, hoping he lands on something that sounds enticing because I’m starting to get hungry again. The waffle was good, but it’s burned off four hours later.
He’s been distracted for the past thirty minutes, staring at his phone like he’s expecting something important or got something he’s not sure how to deal with. “Whatever you want,” he says, not looking up. “Find something you like on your app and let me know. I can order.”
“I don’t have a delivery app on my phone.” I open the dresser drawer and grab a T-shirt and shorts, but I put the T-shirt back and opt for a sweatshirt instead. “Between the surcharges and cost of food plus tip, I just pop in somewhere if I’m treating myself or I eat at the coffee shop.”
Finally looking at me, he smiles. There’s the Cooper I know. “How about we keep it simple and have the ramen?”
“Good choice.”
Before the noodles are prepared, I go to my desk and pick up the small present I have for him. Forcing it forward, I say, “It’s not much. Just a token.”
Holding it in his hands, he says, “I already love it.”
A quick eye roll ends with me shaking my head. “Don’t assume too much. You may hate it.”
“Never.” He rips the paper off the box and then lifts the lid.
He gave me a camera . . . and I only have a stack of photographs for him. There aren’t many times I’ve been ashamed to be poor. This time, I am.
Taking the photos out of the box, he flips through them, studying each one of the six I’ve given him. “I’m honored. They’re Story Salenger originals.” He holds them up. “You sure this is okay for me to take?”
My shoulders rise with a quick jump before falling. “They’re just copies I had made.”
“But no others exist in the world, right?”
Now I see where he’s going with this. “No others.”
He stands and hugs me. “This is an incredible gift. Thank you.”
I slide my arms around him, not even understanding what just happened. He managed to take my shame and turn it like he just won the lottery. A kiss is placed on my head, and he adds, “I’ll hold on to these forever.” When he steps back, he flips to the last one—the one of us lying in bed tangled up in each other with lazy grins and love in our eyes. I can only wish for that euphoria to last forever. “This will always be my favorite.”