Euan leans down to take my mouth in a slow, leisurely kiss. It lasts long enough for me to forget what we were talking about.
“What was that for?” I ask, a little breathless.
“You’re already thinking about Christmas. It’s just nice. Knowing you’re planning so far ahead in the future.”
I guess I am, even though it’s almost eight months away. But isn’t that what people do in relationships? Theresa and I planned years ahead for holidays. Last year we spent Christmas at her parents’. This year we were supposed to spend it at mine.
Thinking about how those canceled plans puts a little damper on the pillow-talk. It’s weird to think about how quickly relationships change. Especially after how crazy this week has been.What if Euan and I aren’t together anymore by Christmas? After everything, what if our relationship still fails?
“Are you freaking out now?” Euan asks.
I trace the shadowed lines of his tattoo. “Maybe a little.”
“That’s alright,” he assures me, gently squeezing my hip. “Let’s just focus on right now.”
Warm arms around me. A pleasant ache everywhere as a reminder of our intimacy. A quiet moment with someone who is quickly becoming my favorite person to be with. A small, content smile spreads over my lips. “Right now is perfect.”
Epilogue: Euan
Two Years Later
The ring is simple: a tungsten band with a blue center, the same color as Alex’s eyes. The surface is smooth all the way around so nothing will catch on clothing. I measured his finger three times while he was asleep, just to make sure I got the right size.
The door opens and I slam the velvet box shut, slipping it into my pocket before Alex can see.
“Honey, I’m home!” he calls. It started as a joke, something we both said whenever we visited each other, treating it like we were just bouncing back and forth between two homes. Even after we moved in together, he still says it every day.
I sweep him into my arms, pulling him in for a long kiss. It feels like days instead of hours since I tasted him. He melts into my arms, making cute little greedy noises as he eagerly kisses me back. I pull away before he’s had his fill, knowing exactly how he’ll react.
As expected, he pouts and grumbles in complaint before threading his fingers through my hair and yanking me backdown. This time, I keep kissing him until the timer in the kitchen beeps.
He blinks blearily as we part, his lips swollen and wet. “Did you make dinner?”
Usually, Wednesdays are date night, but I have other plans. “I had an insatiable urge for roast chicken,” I reply dryly.
To my surprise, Alex’s brow furrows and his lips purse. “Oh.”
I pause halfway to the stove. “If you don’t want it, we can still go out to dinner.”
“No! I mean, you’ve already made it, and I don’t want it to go to waste.”
“It wouldn’t go to waste,” I promise. “I’d just pack it up so we can eat it tomorrow.”
He bites his lip, considering. After a long moment, he says, “No, it’s fine. We can … we can change date-night to tomorrow.” He doesn’t really look like he means it.
Should I take advantage of his people-pleasing side, or should I put it off for another night?One more day of waiting won’t change anything. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” This time his answer is firm. “It always tastes better fresh.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the change in plans ahead of time.”
He smiles softly and walks over to plant a sweet kiss on my cheek. “It’s fine, really. But tomorrow, I want to check out that new gastropub downtown. The menu has some really weird things on it we should try.”
“Sounds perfect,” I reply, kissing him back. “Why don’t you get changed while I set up?”
His eyebrows arch. “Something sexy or something comfy?”
As tempting as the first option is, I tell him, “Comfy.” The more relaxed he is, the less nervous I’ll be.
