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“Yeah. Look at Grady. He only has eyes for Bri. Only her. He reminds me so much of the way I was with you. When he sees her wearing his football jersey, it’s like his chest swells with pride. I know the feeling. The first time I saw you in my jersey, I had the same reaction. I don’t know how he has the self-control to not take things to the next step with her. I couldn’t wait five minutes.” He chuckles.
I smile, remembering how he grabbed my arm the second I walked through the gym doors. I couldn’t wait until that pep rally was over. I wanted to find him afterward so badly, but he found me first. From that touch on, he didn’t waver. I was his. He made sure I knew it in the little things he did.
“When you were driving me home that night, I was so nervous.” I grin at the memory. “I still don’t know why I was so nervous. I think it suddenly occurred to me that I wanted something more to happen between us, and I didn’t know what I would have done if you weren’t thinking the same thing. Then you asked me to wear your jersey, and it was like I had just won the lottery. The hot guy lottery,” I say with a grin.
He laughs at me but otherwise stays silent as he lets me continue walking down my own memory path.
“Life is funny, isn’t it?”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“I guess just that neither of us really thought much of each other. You were always just Barrett Ryan to me. My buddy. The kid who used to always bring cold lunch to school because you hated the school lunches. You always had a bologna and cheese sandwich and a Hostess chocolate cupcake. Every single day. You were the kid who always smiled at everyone, who dominated the playground with your mad kickball skills, who got in trouble for mouthing back to Mrs. Kaplan because she made Eric feel about an inch tall when his parents couldn’t afford to buy him new snow boots.” I stop talking and look at him. “Do you remember that?”
“I do. I was so pissed at her. His parents both lost their jobs that year — I remember hearing my parents talk about it. I got a blue slip, so I went home and told my parents about what happened. They didn’t even care about the blue slip. Dad took me to Walmart, bought Eric and his siblings each a pair of snow boots, and shoved some cash in an envelope. He had me drop them off at their door and run. He didn’t want them to know who it was from.”
“Sounds like your dad. Such a good man. He always put others before himself. You remind me of him, you know? That way, I mean. You’re always helping people, willing to help someone move. You even keep those gift cards in your wallet for emergencies when you see someone who needs it more than us. You don’t think I know about that, but I do. And the kids have seen it. You do those things not for people to see it, but because you have a big heart.”
He graces me with one of his small smiles and I continue my story.
“Then suddenly you were Barrett Ryan. Still all those things but more. So much more. Why we both started thinking differently at the same time is beyond me, but I know it was meant to be.”
His eyes go soft as he takes all of me in, but his voice is gruff. “Yeah, it was. It is.”
“I won’t let it happen to us again.”
“You won’t have to worry about that because I won’t either.”
This man.
He’s far from perfect.
But he’s perfect for me.
Our dream is wide awake, and we are living it.
Chapter Twenty
Barrett
Iwake up slowly, my body completely spent and exhausted — in the best way possible — from our activities the day before. Two nights ago we played strip poker… kind of… which turned into naked Sorry, naked Checkers, naked Twister, naked… well, let’s just say it became our Reign of Nakedness that lasted until… now. Yesterday morning, we woke up and decided it was a good idea to spend the entire day naked. It was the best idea we’d ever had.
We slept randomly, played more games, and cooked (things that didn’t splatter). We ate ice cream sundaes, and we talked. Actually talked. About things other than the kids, other than promising each other we were still in love with each other. I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure she knows that, but for this week, we’ve said it enough. We both get it. Now it’s time to show each other. Actions do speak louder than words, after all.
Not a single scrap of clothing was placed on either of our bodies for a second of the entire day. It. Was. Awesome.
Tess has a glorious body. I’ve loved it every minute of our years together. It always turns me on, makes me want to beat my chest and shout with pride to the world that this hottie is mine. So given the chance to see her all day in her favorite outfit of mine, I definitely took full advantage. I couldn’t keep my hands off her. Even if we were eating or resting, I was touching her in some way. It gave me peace. A peace to remind me that we survived the crap we put ourselves through. And a reminder that we will always survive, as long as we turn toward one another rather than against one another.
The fact that I’m not touching her now is probably what woke me up. I don’t feel her near me. I’m not touching a part of her body and, quite frankly, that annoys me. I lift my head, eyes still adjusting to the soft light that comes through the fabric-shade-covered windows. I roll over and see the other half of the bed we have been sharing empty, which also annoys me.
I let out a growl and groan, “Tess?! Get your ass back in here!”
Silence.
Okay, that’s weird.
One quick look to the side where the bathroom is attached to the bedroom of our small cabin, I see that the door is wide open and the room is dark, which in my half-asleep state of mind, I’m vaguely aware means that she’s not in there.
“Tess! Baby, where are you?” I shout once more.
