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Next comes a knocking as I’m tugging on a crop top and jeans. What did Finn send that takes multiple trips? And will my doorman hate me?
I don’t have time to find out since his footsteps fade just as I reach the door and unlock it.
When I swing open the door, I gasp.
My doorway is bursting with blooms. There are boxes full of arrangements. Vases bursting with flowers. My doorway is filled with peach roses, lush delphiniums, fluffy peonies, gorgeous tulips.
My nose is in heaven. My mind is overwhelmed. And my heart is thundering as I take it all in. Easily a dozen bouquets wait for me. Tucked in one of them is a simple white card with my name on it. I pick it up, opening the flap as my pulse skyrockets.
I tug out the card, my skin tingling.
Don’t let this be bad news. Don’t let this be something terrible.
I take a beat, then a calming breath, letting any terrible thoughts float away.
I open the card. I don’t move as I read it. I barely breathe.
Jules,
When we were in Paris in the Luxembourg Gardens, you closed your eyes, and I asked where you went. You told me that you went to a memory of my hotel room. You painted the scene from your imagination. It was vivid and vibrant and told me exactly where you were and who you are.
Now, back here in New York, when I catch the scent of honeysuckle outside my kitchen window, I picture you. I see you walking down the street, coming up my steps, dancing for me.
But then again, my thoughts always go to you.
When I go to the bookstore, I imagine you’re wandering among the shelves. When I’m in the diner, you’re joining me. When I turn the corner, you walk toward me.
Wherever I am, you are.
But I don’t want to be lost in a memory, or caught only in a dream. I want to be wrapped in the present with you, and planning a new future together. I’d take you to Monet’s Garden to tell you this, but instead, I’m bringing the garden to you.
Can I come up and see you?
xo,
Finn
I clutch the card to my chest for several long seconds, then sway. I grab onto the doorjamb, so I don’t fall under the weight of the swoon. I’m going to need a fan. I’m going to need to pinch myself.
I grab at my phone and try to slide it open, but I’m so excited I can’t unlock it at first. Once I get it open, though, I stop.
I know Finn.
He’s not far away.
I bet he’s…
As if drawn by an invisible force, I head to the window and stare down at the street.
My heart slams against my ribs when I see him on the sidewalk, pacing, gripping his phone like it’s a lifeline to me.
Waiting for me.
He’s so unbearably handsome in the summer twilight, the day drifting away, the night coasting in. In tight jeans and a fitted T-shirt, he’s the man showing up for me.
I fling open the window, giddy. “Yes!” I shout it without thinking.
He turns, following the sound of my voice, staring up, then smiling slowly, like his smile is filling him up.
