Page 74 of The F*ck-It List

“You really did go through all my stuff to pack for tonight, didn’t you?” I laugh.

“Wanted to make sure you were surprised but comfortable.” He shrugs like all of this was no big deal, even though the thought and planning gone into this date is more than anyone has ever done for me.

“Thank you,” I say sincerely, wiggling my toes as he grips my now socked feet.

Turning to look at me, he gives a gentle smile. “You’re welcome, sunshine.” We stare at each other for a long moment, and I wonder if he feels this crackling intensity between us as I do. “Now,” he says, breaking the moment and taking my list from his pocket. “We’ve got some things to cross off.” He hands me the paper and a pen, which I click open and closed a few times for dramatic effect.

“We have accomplished butt stuff,” I declare, striking it firmly from the list.

“That we did,” he agrees with a smile full of masculine pride.

“Sex in public, technically,” I say.

“Definitely.”

“Sex outside.”

“Cross it off.”

“Use sex toys with a partner.” I draw a line through number twenty-two. “Double penetration,” I say a little quieter, feeling my cheeks heat.

“Big, fat tick next to that one.” August grins. “And strike off sleeping under the stars while you’re there.”

I do, then I fold the paper and hand it back to him to stash away safely. August settles back on the bed and pulls me into his side, reaching up to turn off the lantern and I’m breathless as I take in the sight above us. The clearing we’re parked in leaves a circular frame around our view of the inky black sky, speckled with pinpricks of sparkling light. The night is clear and crisp, the breeze rustling the leaves above us in a hushed ripple that’s comforting in a way.

“It’s beautiful,” I say, feeling emotional, the peace of the moment allowing the feelings to rise and be felt.

My head is resting on August’s large chest, his arm around me and he pulls me closer, like he knows I need the contact right now.

“I think it’s just hit me,” I say, my voice thick.

“What’s hit you?” he asks gently.

“Everything that’s happened in the last six months. All the changes, all the things I’ve done. If you’d told me a year ago this is where I’d be today, I would have balked.” I sniff hard, blinking tears down my cheeks that I’m sure are landing to wet August’s hoodie. “But I’m so happy right now, August,” I say through tears.

“You sound it,” he teases, and I laugh a little.

“I am. I’m happy and I’m proud of myself and I’ve just realised I don’t think I’ve ever felt like that.” I smile into the night, letting those good feels warm me against the cooling air.

“You should be proud,” August says, his voice low and sincere. “You’ve moved away from everything you knew, started your own business, and won over everyone in Port Doone—”

“Even you?”

“Especially me. I’m proud of you, Bea. We’re all proud of you.” I push myself up to rest my chin on his pec to look up at him. My eyes have adjusted to the lack of light so I can just about make out the softness in his features as he looks down at me. His hand comes up to caress my cheek, first with a light stroke of his knuckles, then by cupping my jaw. “Bea, I…” He trails off, licking his lips and taking a breath that seems to be more for courage than oxygen. “I love you.”

My heart takes flight, taking me with it to float among the stars. “Really?”

“Yeah, I know it’s early, and you don’t have to say it back or anything. I just wanted to tell y—”

“I love you too,” I blurt, the words having no more space to hide inside me.

I feel August deflate, like he’d been holding a breath that now can release. “You know what you said a minute ago, about it all hitting you?” I nod. “Well, that’s how I feel when I look at you. Everything good that’s ever happened in my life comes crashing over me like a wave, and at the forefront is you. Like every moment of happiness is more because I have you now.”

Wow. “I didn’t know you could be so poetic.”

August snorts, his smile infectious, his body relaxed and carefree as he strokes soothing circles over my back. “It happens occasionally, apparently.”

“I feel the same,” I tell him. “You know I never want anyone to see me when I’m struggling with my anxiety, I want to shrink down and disappear. Only Cas can help, they’ve been there for me too many times to count. But when it happened last week, I needed you. I felt safe with you, like I wasn’t a burden.”