have all my pictures in a shoebox?” I ask, and then for some reason, I start laughing.
And then the laughing turns to tears.
I can feel that Carter is just staring at me worriedly like I’m losing my mind, and maybe I am. Because isn’t that just the saddest fucking thing—that our huge, epic love has been relegated to a fucking shoebox for the last ten years?
My hands tremble as I bring them to my face, spilling my cup of wine as I move. I watch as the dark liquid seeps into the ground.
“Sorry,” I whisper. “We just wasted so many years. And it’s all my fault.”
“Maybe this is how it was always supposed to be,” Carter says as he once again gathers my trembling body into his arms. “Maybe our love story needed to grow, to mature. Maybe we needed to find out who we were without each other.”
“That is such bullshit,” I sob.
He laughs, and now I can hear the tears in his voice that he’s trying to keep back. That stupid shoebox. “I know. That’s absolutely the fucking dumbest thing I’ve ever said.”
And then we’re both laughing again for no reason, and gradually, the sadness fades away for the time that’s been lost, and what’s left is gratefulness that we’re here under this tree at all.
Once we get ahold of ourselves, Carter pours us both another huge cup of wine and then we talk. And we talk and we talk. He tells me about his travels all over the world. He tells me some of the terrible things he’s seen, but he tells me about the moments that gave him faith in humanity too. He tells me about his life in New York and his coworkers. He tells me about the few times he’s seen his brother, Alex, over the years, and the talk they had at his Grandma Pearl’s funeral two years ago. He tells me about who Carter Hayes has become over the last ten years, and I soak it all up. Every single word he gives me.
By the time the sun is setting and there’s a faint chill in the air, the man sitting next to me isn’t a stranger anymore. He’s Carter again. And I love him so fucking much.
We walk back to the hotel holding hands once more, both pleasantly buzzed from the bottle that we finished off. Logan and Quaid are both waiting for us when we get back, sun-tanned from an afternoon of surfing. After dinner, we all watch a movie, and for the first time since we began this adventure, there’s no tension as we sit there watching some stupid comedy that still has us all laughing. I’m leaning against Quaid with my feet in Logan’s lap. Carter is sitting on the ground in front of me, holding my hand.
And I can’t remember a more perfect evening.
When it’s time for bed, I expect for Carter to take me to his room. He was always more intense physically in high school, and now that we’ve cleared most of the barriers between us, it seems like sex would be the next step.
But he sends me to my room with Logan and Quaid with just a brush of his lips against mine.
The problem is that he thinks we have forever in front of us. A lifetime to make love.
And that’s just not the truth.
Chapter 2
Then
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Valentina
“Wake up, Val. Wake up,” a whispered order seeps into my subconscious, but I feel too good to pay it any mind.
My body melts further into Logan’s chest, cherishing his caress on my cheek as he continues to try coaxing me awake. The tenderness feels so amazing on my body that I pretend to be asleep a little longer, just so Logan can keep touching me this way. I can feel his breath on my skin as he continues to gently graze my cheek with his knuckles. My heart flutters as he becomes more emboldened, running the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip. It takes everything in me not to gasp in elation, or let my tongue peek out just so it can taste him. But I know if I did something so forward, Logan would back away instantly.
Unlike Quaid or even Carter, Logan is more demure with his affections. The most I get from him is either a friendly hug or holding my hand in his. If I’m really lucky, sometimes he’ll go as far as offering me a light caress on the hollow of my