“I can never thank you enough for this, Adam. I—” I cut him off, turning him around to look at me. Two tear lines trickle down his face, and he sticks his tongue out to wet his top lip. His cheeks are red, and he’s staring up at me.
“I don’t need your thankfulness, Hunter. I just needyou.” He lifts up on his toes and kisses me hard, his tongue entering my mouth when I gasp at his aggression.
“I need you, love. In every way. Every day. For the rest of my life.” He enunciates each word with a rough kiss to my lips. I chuckle against him, the control on my emotions slipping through my fingers. I don’t care, though. I don’t need to have a handle on my control, not with him. Because he will never let me down.
“Is that a marriage declaration? Kinda risqué to do it without a ring,” I remark, ducking my head into the crook of his neck and nuzzling the skin.
“When I propose, you’ll know. Everyone will, because you’re mine, love.”
“I love you,” I tell him, breathing the words onto his skin and imprinting them inside him so he’ll never have to know a life again without my love.
“I love you.”
HUNTER
FOUR YEARS LATER
“Love, we’re going to be late,” I call up the stairs to Adam. I can hear him rustling around in our cats’ bedroom. A full bedroom in our house that he had redesigned after we found the kittens in my parents’ backyard. Our house has turned into a zoo, with the four cats running rampant. But I wouldn’t change a minute of it, and neither would Adam.
He was worried about me getting too attached in the early days, but now, when he gets a free moment, he peeks his head in their room to check on them. Watching them chase each other across the planks he hung on the walls is entertaining, and we could watch them for hours. And sometimes we do, the two of us sitting with our backs against the closed door.
I hear the jingle of a bell on a collar. Seraphina, the momma cat, peeks her head out above the top step. Her white coats shine bright against the dark, polished wood of the stairs. When we make eye contact, she meows loudly. I make a small psps noise to try to get her to come down the stairs to me. Instead, she meows louder until I give in and walk up the stairs to scratch herhead. Her purrs are loud enough to wake the dead and attract all three of her children from their bedroom.
They swarm around my feet, barricading me from moving. I bend over at the waist, trying my best to keep steady and give them all the same amount of attention. If I don’t, I’ll be hearing about it. Very loudly. Through the walls of their room, because if they’re not happy, no one is happy.
I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Adam makes his appearance, leaving the door open behind him so they can get back inside whenever they want. We let them have free rein of the house, but they prefer their space more than anywhere else.
When his eyes catch mine, my heart stops in my chest. He isn’t the nineteen-year-old boy I fell in love with. He’s the thirty-year-old man who makes my world spin, even after all these years together and apart. I don’t remember what life was like before Adam.
His beard is thick and dark, lining his jawline and his perfect pink lips. His dark hair is longer now, gracing the tops of his ears and curling into artful pieces that dance around his face like small flickers of flame. And I’m a moth drawn to them, using them to guide me.
His body has filled out, stretching the tan button-down shirt he’s wearing. The black shorts hug his tree trunk thighs, and I want to plant myself on them and keep him to myself all day, every day.
We can’t do that today, though.
“Are you ready, Collins?” Adam asks me, and I still get butterflies.
“Did you already put the gift in the car?” He grabs my hand and walks me down the stairs, leading the way to the bottom like he’s my prince charming.
“Yes, I did, and I called the bakery to make sure the cake was ready. Did Kian ask you to do anything else?” I thumb through my mental notes, making check marks as I go through the list of everything we needed to do for today. It’s a big day, so there was a lot of pressure to get it right.
“No,” I say confidently, and then add, “but I’ll call him on the way just to double-check.”
Adam opens the passenger door for me, kissing my top lip and shutting me securely inside. I buckle my seatbelt as he rounds the car, getting in.
On the way to Trent and Kian’s house, we stop and get the four-layer luxurious cake. Adam stares at me as I buckle it into the back seat and make sure it won’t move around. Their house is only a ten-minute drive from the bakery, but a lot can happen in ten minutes.
“Do you need anything else?” I ask as soon as Kian answers the phone, not bothering with pleasantries. I hear two kids screaming in the background and Trent offering them a scoop of ice cream if they’ll calm down.
“A lobotomy? I think that’s the only thing that will fix my problems at this point,” Kian remarks lightly, and I hear Trent’s affronted gasp in the background. I can practically hear Kian’s eyes roll through the phone when he says, “Obviously, I’m kidding. Who wouldn’t want to have a birthday party for two children who won’t even remember this day, or the amount of stress I’m being put through? I have a pimple,a pimple,on my face, Hunter. I haven’t had acne in years, but these two angels have brought wrath down upon me. They’re sending bad juju my way, I can feel it. It’s probably because I accidentally bought cherry instead of strawberry bubble bath the other day. And don’t get me started on Mitch, he makes it seem like we neglect our children. I can’t have them being raised with no manners—” Kian’s rambling is cut off by a cooing noise from him, and a small groan.
“You wanna go to Uncle Hunt’s house later? You can play with the kittens.” I hear the four-year-old’s excited words being screamed into the phone. A small scream and another huff. “You can go, too, your uncles love you bothsooomuch and want to spend time with you.”
I look at Adam, and he’s smiling widely. He loves watching Trent and Kian’s kids. The twins came to the couple when they were young, they needed a home full of love, comfort, and acceptance. Who better than them? Those kids haven’t wanted for a thing, and they have a whole village behind them ready to wait on them hand and foot.
My parents are also coming to the birthday party today, the twins are turning four, and my mom helped Kian bake all of the homemade cookies; the cake was the one thing he would not budge on. He wanted it to be perfect for his kids, and I can’t hold that against him.
