The sun hasn’t set since it’s the summer solstice, so it’s time to enact part two of my plan for the night. I would have thought I’d be more nervous. I’m not. This is right. The timing and the night.
Through the large panes of glass, paintings are mixed with photos hung on the gallery walls. From the street view, it doesn’t take more than a glance to catch sight of my Sosie fluttering from one group of potential buyers to the next. Champagne in hand, she laughs like she was never locked in a life she didn’t love.
Breezy happiness is what I sometimes call it. She makes everything better. Even molecules caught in her spotlight reorganize to stay there. I feel special by association, but that she chose me to love makes me a fucking hero.
Her lips twist, though it doesn’t hide her smile when she sees me. A hand goes to her jeans-clad hip, and the cream-coloreddiamond-shaped fabric clings to her tits while showing off her arms and her stunning back. Should I be jealous of the other men who get to take her in as well? Nah, I’m the one who gets to unwrap that package later. She holds up a finger and tells me to stay where I am.
I don’t mind being a voyeur as she zips across the room and whispers something in her coworker’s ear. They both glance my way before giggling, making me chuckle under my breath. The little top knot on her head reveals the cotton candy pink streaks she recently added to her hair, and bounces when she rushes out the door. After a quick twirl, she lands right in my arms.
Her legs grip my center, her arms wrap around my neck, but it’s her lips that kiss me like she hasn’t seen me in a month when it’s only been a few hours that confirms this is right. We are, together. Not that I needed reassurance. I knew she was the one when we met and she asked me for my cigarette like she already owned it. She did, and me, from that moment on.
With a smile shining brighter than the North Star, she asks, “Do you know how much I missed you, Poet?”
“Since two this afternoon?” I deadpan.
She nods, tossing her head back freely in laughter. “It could have been thirty minutes ago, and I’d miss you the same.”
I study the sweet expression—the smile, those eyes that light up when I’m near, and the way she licks her lips after we kiss like she didn’t get enough the first time. Her fascination with taking photos of me is quite the ego trip, but it’s her love for me that is always coming through. “I missed you, too.”
“Is that why you came to see me?”
Holding her up is easy, but I was built for loving her. “One of the reasons.”
A mischievous smirk slips into her fine features. “What’s another reason?”
“Do you remember I asked for a sign?” I set her down and caress her cheek. “One sign was all I needed.”
The memories steal her smile and drain the happiness from her eyes. “I remember.” She bites her bottom lip, but then says, “I cried for days, maybe months after you left. The tears just wouldn’t stop. I knew in my soul that we were supposed to be together.” And she calls me the romantic one.
“We’re together now, but you were with me all along. A beacon for me to rely on. Every time we saw each other, every time we talked gave me the sign I needed to hold on, even when fate tried to keep us apart.” I take her hand and twirl her out before bringing her back to me just to see her smile again and lead her into the empty cobblestone street to look up at the moon.
Her eyes glisten under clouds streaking across the deep blue skies as night bellows to greet us above the treetops of the West Village. I hold her hands in mine and do what I’ve always done—pour my heart into her.
“I was so fucking lonely, angry at the world for having to fight for everything I got. And then there was you, Sosie. A shining star. A muse in need of an artist to inspire. The most beautiful girl I’d ever laid eyes on in a Jackson Pollock shirt, dark eyeliner, and combat boots, bumming a smoke from a server ducking out on his break.”
“Sounds like kismet, Poet.”
“It sure was, and it changed my life for the better. You inspire me every day with the way you hold strength and still manage to stay soft at heart. I’ve said it before. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I must have been one helluva guy in a past life to get the reward in this one.”
Her bubbling laughter makes me think she’s onto me. I’m not the best with secrets, always wearing my heart on my sleeve like she does. Reaching up to run the tips of her fingers over my jaw,she says, “Oh, I definitely earned you in this life. So I’m not going to take one day for granted. I love you too much for that.”
“I love?—”
A car horn blasts, sending my heart into orbit, just as the taxi’s headlights shine so bright that we run for the curb to avoid being blinded. Laughing takes some of the heat off the situation and gives my chest time to retrieve my heart from outer space and calm down again. As soon as I do, I reach into my pocket and drop to one knee before her because I just want to be married to this woman. “Will you marry me, Spark? I promise to be the husband you deserve.”
She kisses me before the words leave my mouth, sealing the deal like our destiny always was. “Yes, Poet. I’ll marry you. You’ve always had my heart, so we might as well make it official.”
CHAPTER 34
SOSIE
Icouldn’t wait to get my hands on it, and now I can’t stop staring. It’s so big and thick. GAH, holding it in my hands is incredible. I’m so glad I bought a copy of Keats’s book as soon as the bookstore opened even though I preordered a copy for delivery at home. That copy didn’t arrive until after lunch, so no regrets on the early morning trek. And now this evening, the line for the signing wraps around the block, confirming it’s sold out.
I can only imagine how proud Keats must be feeling. I can’t even contain myself around him and have had a blast celebrating this huge achievement. The cake decorated with the cover for hitting the bestsellers’ lists last week made him laugh, but he didn’t hesitate to scoop a bite right out of it. He devoured the miniature novel cookies I had customized for signing another book deal a few weeks back. And this morning, the English muffins were toasted and buttered before I branded them with a personalized novel just for him. He smiled just before I found out he doesn’t even like English muffins. He was only eating them because I do.He prefers bagels.
That’s important information to know, especially about the man I intend to marry and have a brood of children with. Okay, maybe not a brood, but a couple of little poets running around would be nice.
The line shifts forward several feet, flowing between stanchions before we enter the store. Did I have to stand in line to have my Poet sign my book? No, but it’s fun to be a part of the excitement.
