Page 71 of A Curvy Girl’s Hurricane Survival Guide

I shrug, “Maybe. But it makes me feel better.”

“As you wish,” he says and kisses my ankle.

“Alex called me today,” I say, recalling my conversation with my sister earlier.

“Everything good?”

“Yeah, she wanted to know our plans for the Noche Buena,” I say.

I can feel my anxiety rising, but more so from the history I have with this request from previous boyfriends, not because I think Sonny will mind.

“Remind me what that is?”

“Christmas Eve. It’s our big celebration. We roast a pig, do fireworks, there’s music…” Should I mention the day drinking or the dominoes matches?

“Sounds awesome,” Sonny says. “Any chance for another hurricane?”

I smile. “Unfortunately, hurricane season is June to November, so no chance there, stud.”

“Rats,” he jokes. “Can we still stay in your pink childhood room?”

I laugh lightly. “I’m sure that will be expected.”

“And can we take loads of pictures and have a really festive Christmas card made beforehand?”

I give him a small nudge with my foot. “Ok, smartass, I know I’m ridiculous about my Christmas card. You don’t have to make fun of me.”

Sonny grabs my leg and pulls me towards him so that I am almost straddling him. “Hey!” He says. “I wasn’t making fun of you. I want that too.”

I can’t keep the excitement out of my voice. “Really?!”

“Yeah, of course! I told you I’m all in. I want all of it.”

“And Noche Buena in Miami is ok?”

“I insist on it,” he adds and kisses me sweet and slow.

“And you’re sure no chance of hurricanes?”

“Afraid not,” I say.

“Well, I guess we’ll just have to make our own thunderstorm,” he says, with a mischievous smile on his lips that I can’t wait to kiss off.

Rule #30

SCREW THE RULES; THE CHAOS IS WORTH IT

CAI

The Miami air hits me like a warm, wet hug. The air smells of jet fuel and ocean salt. Only a few months ago, we had been here, same terminal in the same airport, exiting after grabbing our bags from the same luggage carousel. Last time, I was a sad girl with red-rimmed eyes, chasing my toxic ex, whom I refused to admit was my ex, to convince him to stay with me. How things have changed.

Now, I am here with the most perfect guy, carrying a suitcase mostly filled with gifts, his hand possessively on my lower back. I am excited to see my family, to tell them about my work and my relationship.

“You know,” Sonny says, pulling me close with a little squeeze on my hip. “It feels different this time.”

“I was just thinking the same thing,” I say, looking at that awed smile Sonny seems to wear all the time these days, and it makes my heart swell to see it. “I’m a little less worried this time.”

“But there’s still worry?” Sonny asks.