were distracted.” His head dips, and his tongue runs across my neck.
“Will there ever be a time they know you’re coming to meet me?”
I wait for him to tense, to stall, thinking of how to placate me. To his credit, he does neither. Raising his head, he asks, “How do you feel about me, Jamiee?”
My chest rises and falls rapidly as I try and catch my breath. He needs to know how I feel before we do anything else.
“I’ve known how I felt about you since I was fifteen. I love you. You don’t have to say it back or anything, but you—this—is what I’ve wanted for as long as I can remember.”
It takes him a moment to digest what I’ve said. I study his face as he continues to hover over me, but he gives nothing away.
“You’ve been in love with me that long?”
“You’ve been my one and only crush,” I tell him, adding, “Does that freak you out?”
“No,” he says adamantly. “Does anyone else know?”
“I’m pretty sure my mom suspects it, but she’s never said anything.”
Maybe I should be embarrassed admitting all this to him, but I have zero cares about sharing my heart. It’s how I feel, and I won’t ever hide from it.
“I don’t know how to put how I feel for you into words yet, but I will tell you, you’re in my head every second of every day. I’m falling, and I only want to land on you. But, I think we should keep this between us for a little while longer. When we tell people, I want us to be solid, both of us sure this is it for us.”
This is it for me, but if he needs more time, I’ll happily give it to him.
“Just know I’m ready when you are. Now, kiss me.”
And he does. He kisses me—amongst other things—until the sun rises, and we’re forced to go our separate ways.
I don’t know why I think back on that memory of us as Freddie drives us farther out of town. Apparently, where he wants to take me isn’t that far, and I should trust him that I’ll like it. I do trust him, to an extent. It’s ironic how I was ready to shout to the world he was mine, and he wanted more time in secrecy, and now it’s the other way around. Not that I want us to be a secret, as that ship has sailed with the guys, but I don’t want to be open around them.
“How do you know what’s around here?” I ask to fill the silence.
He smiles. “Google.”
I can’t help but smile back. He seems so happy with himself for doing something millions of people do countless times a day.
“Just tell me where we’re going.”
I don’t particularly hate surprises; I just have no patience when it comes to waiting.
“Don’t need to, ’cause we’re here. Look for yourself.”
Opening my window, I see a sign for the botanical gardens.
“You brought me to see flowers?” I ask, raising my brows.
He shrugs. “You like that shit.”
He remembered. During one of our secret hook-ups, he asked me what was something from my childhood that made me smile. My response was when the flowers bloomed in spring, because everyone seemed to be happy when they did. Because of this, I’ve always found them fascinating. Whenever I doodle, it’s of flowers. My first tattoo was a small daffodil on my hip. My mom thought it was trashy, but I loved it, and I still do.
“I can’t believe you remembered that,” I say, unclicking my belt.
Before he replies, he jumps out of the car and heads around to open my door. “I remember everything you tell me. Well, the shit that makes you happy at least.” Holding his hand out for me, I take it, enjoying the warmth of his touch.
Once I’m on my feet, he doesn’t let go. The car beeps as he locks it up, and we head for the main entrance, hand in fucking hand. I can’t believe this. We’re in public, holding hands!
He pays the entrance fee and we’re handed a pamphlet and a small map. There’s even a little café.
“Today they’re having an art exhibition of rare flowers,” Freddie tells me as he scans over the information.
“Sounds good. Where shall we start?”
It didn’t matter where we started; we walked around the entire place. There wasn’t a flower or plant we didn’t see, and the art pieces were magnificent.
As I sit down at the first table I reach, Freddie