Not You It's Me (Boston Love #1) - Julie Johnson Page 0,142
bringing him, Mrs. Hendrickson.”
“Don’t thank me, dear. Just get better.” She smiles. “After all, I’ll need you to look after Bigelow again in a few weeks, when I go back to Phoenix to watch my youngest grandson graduate high school. And you know he’s quite an active cat – he can’t be with someone who’s confined to a hospital bed all day.”
“Of course not,” I agree, my voice choked with laughter.
Chase chuckles full-out as his hand tightens on mine, and the sound is so packed with joy, it warms me down to the core of my bones.
***
Later, it’s dark and quiet in my room, the only sound that of the machines gently whirring and our slow breaths, mingling in the space between our faces as we share a too-thin pillow on my cramped hospital bed.
“You look exhausted,” Chase whispers in the darkness, his lips finding mine in a soft kiss. “Go to sleep, sunshine.”
“Will you still be here, when I wake up?” I ask sleepily.
“Stupid question.”
I smile. “Good.”
He chuckles against my hair. “I think the nurses have given up on trying to kick me out.”
“I told them to leave you alone.” I shrug. “I figure if I slip into a coma again, I’d like it to happen in the arms of the man I love.”
He goes completely still and when he speaks, his voice is low, intent.
“Care to repeat that, sunshine?”
I turn to look into his eyes, smiling and crying at the same time. “I know it’s crazy and way too fast and I probably should wait to say it until we’ve figured things out – important things, like whether you snore and where all my books are going to go, because your shelves are already full, and obviously your stance on real, sugary Pop-Tarts versus the gross, healthy-alternative filling ones.” I pull in a breath. “But the thing is, I almost died yesterday, and I guess none of those little details seem super important anymore. I don’t know when my expiration date will come around – it might not be for fifty years, or ten years, or two months. It might be tomorrow, or five minutes from now. I don’t know when I’m going to leave this earth. But, whenever that is… I want to go knowing that I came clean. That I told you everything. And the truth is… I love you, Chase Croft. I really, really love you.”
His eyes go soft as they move over my features and when he speaks, his voice is more emotional than I’ve ever heard it – tender and hopeful and happy.
“For the record… I like the sugary Pop-Tarts.”
I blink in surprise before his words catch up with me and a grin overtakes my face. “Really?”
He nods, staring at me for a beat with something a lot like awe in his eyes. “You love me?”
My voice cracks. “I love you.”
“Does this mean you’re officially moving in?”
I sigh. “God, you’re incorrigible.”
He grins. “You’re moving in.”
“This doesn’t mean you get to boss me around.”
“Uh huh.”
“There will be absolutely no macho-man, bossy-pants shenanigans allowed.”
“Whatever you say, sunshine.”
“You’re doing that thing, where you pretend I’m getting my way just so I’ll let you off the hook, aren’t you?”
His grin widens. “See? You know me so well, already.”
I groan. “This is going to be a disaster.”
“Maybe.” He brushes his lips against mine. “But I love you, too, sunshine. I really, really love you. And even if it’s too fast, even if it’s a mess, even if it’s crazy… it’ll be our mess. Our crazy. And that’s really all I need.”
“Well, then...” My eyes are watering, which kind of takes the heat out of my argument. “I’ll have you know, I’ve got conditions.”
“Conditions?”
“If I’m going to move in.” I stare into his eyes, deadly serious. “For starters, I’m going to need a waffle maker. I don’t care if you don’t like them — a girl needs a waffle maker, Chase. It’s a rule.”
His lips twitch. “I think we can manage that.”
“And!” I point a finger at him, in case he thought he was getting off easy. “How do you feel about chocolate cupcakes?”
“They’re pretty good.” He shrugs. “Especially from that place Crumble on Beacon Street.”
My eyes fill with tears again, and this time they spill over.
Chase looks at me like I’m crazy. “Sunshine, if you don’t like the cupcakes there, we can go somewhere else. I don’t think Maria’s makes cupcakes, but we both agree, their cannoli are top notch—”
“I love you, you big idiot.” I cut him off, pressing my lips to his in a kiss that’s wet from my tears. “Now shut up and kiss me.”
He does.
THE END
Acknowledgements
I hate writing this part, because it means it’s over.
Another book finished, another chapter ended, another cast of characters I have to part with. I’ve had so much fun writing Chase and Gemma’s story, I’m not ready to say goodbye. Not ready for it to end.
(Hmmm…. Maybe that means I should write Phoebe’s story, next…)
I hope you enjoyed reading NOT YOU IT’S ME as much as I enjoyed putting it down on paper. Without readers like you, none of this would be possible – so thank you for supporting me. Whether this is your first Julie Johnson book or your fourth, thank you for spending a few hours trapped between my pages. Thank you for reaching out with words of kindness, for leaving reviews on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Goodreads, for recommending my books to your fellow bookworms. I’ll never be able to express how much your support means to me.
To my wonderful parents – thank you for embracing my dreams and for (miraculously) not freaking out when I told you I wasn’t applying for a regular 9 to 5 after college. You’ve taught me to make the most of every ounce of life you’re given while you still have time, to live fearlessly, to dream without limits…. I love you both.
To my older brother, Zack – thank you for teaching me that nerds are the coolest humans, for instilling a great love of Star Wars, dinosaurs, and LEGOs within me from an early age, and for putting food coloring in my cereal that one time and turning my teeth bright green. (Good times.) Love you much.
To my friends – thank you for championing my books to everyone who will listen. You are amazingly supportive, not to mention incredibly understanding of my hermit-like tendencies when I have to hibernate in my writing cave for weeks at a time. I love you guys to pieces.
To my street team – you ladies rock my socks off! Seriously, the amount of time and effort you put into your reviews, your book videos, your graphics and teasers…. It awes me. I love you guys!
And, lastly, to every reader, blogger, and fellow author who’s a part (small or large) of this epic book community we share – thank you for making it fun, for keeping it interesting, and most of all, for inspiring me to keep writing. I couldn’t do any of this without all of you!
About the Author
Julie Johnson is a twenty-something Boston native suffering from an extreme case of Peter Pan Syndrome and an obsession with fictional characters. When she’s not writing, Julie can most often be found daydreaming, drinking too much coffee, striving to conquer her Netflix queue, and stalking Goodreads for new books to add to her ever-growing TBR list.
You can find Julie on Facebook or her website juliejohnsonbooks. Sometimes, when she can figure out how Twitter works, she tweets from AuthorJulie.
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Playlist
You Should Know Where I’m Coming From by Banks
Treacherous by Taylor Swift
Beneath Your Beautiful (feat. Emeli Sandé) by Labrinth