seat of the Black Widow. Oscar at the wheel.
Before we drive off, Oscar asks, “You were good with telling everyone we’re married back there? No hesitations about what Oslie supporters might say about the marriage?”
“No hesitations.” I smile. “All I want is to shout that you’re my husband. Literally, I could fucking scream it out the window for two hours. Why hold anything in?”
We share a bigger smile.
“Yeah, I can definitely live with that answer.” Oscar switches on the music. “Let’s keep moving, Highland.”
We drive and jam out to my favorite band. Singing smoothly at the top of our lungs, our hands clasped between our seats. He clutches the steering wheel with the other, and mine taps the car to the rhythm. Our gazes latch affectionately, powerfully in every other beat.
His love carries me through the barrel of every wave. I’m already up on the board.
I’m coasting on these feelings. Riding them to shore.
44
OSCAR OLIVEIRA
The sun sets on the penthouse rooftop. Oranges bleed through the sky, and rays soak down on the most gorgeous guy.
That’s right, my husband.
Our post-elopement engagement party is still in full swing, but we snuck away for a second to watch the sun drop behind the Philly skyline.
We’re headed to the edge, but I seize his hand. Stopping him near the pool. A donut inflatable tube drifts over the blue water.
“I have to tell you something.”
He frowns and spins more to me. Our buttons are popped on our shirts. Hot sauce stains on his, thanks to my baby sis shaking a bottle too hard.
He couldn’t be hotter. Or more confused.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I laugh. “Nothing is wrong. This is legitimately the best day of my life.” I know he can feel that because his smile is a thousand-watts of beauty. “But the something I want to tell you probably isn’t on your radar, and I wanted to throw it out there.”
“Okay,” he nods to me. “Shoot your best shot, Oscar.”
I grin at the words I’ve told him. “Charlie said that the personal videography project is still on the table. And before you say anything, I know why it wouldn’t be appealing. You want to create a show, and it doesn’t make sense to take on a personal project during off-seasons of We Are Calloway.”
“Would I be traveling the world with you?” he asks with a growing smile.
It chokes me up. “Yeah, you would.”
“Then okay. I’ll take on some videography projects. It’ll be fun.”
“There’s more.”
He frowns, his lips falling. “What do you mean, more?”
“That wasn’t my best shot, Long Beach. I’m shooting again.” I hold his shoulders. “I want to be on camera.”
“Os—”
“Let me pitch it to you,” I say. “Our lives, our love. You’re the creator of a documentary mini-series starring you and me, Oscar and Jack—the hottest bodyguard and flirtiest filmmaker. How we came to be suddenly famous.”
His hand is on his head, shocked. “You’d want to be on camera? Why?”
There is only one phrase that makes sense.
Only one that comes to mind.
“Basta ikaw,” I use his words now and translate, “as long as it’s with you, because it’s you.”
He pulls me closer, our arms over each other’s shoulders. “I’d have to pitch it to a network. We might have to film a pilot first…they might not want it.”
“But you’d do it?”
“Yeah.” His eyes glitter. “No question.” He adds with that charming smile, “It was a perfect pitch, Oscar. I’d buy the show.”
“Yeah, the network thought so too. We’re straight to TV.”
His breath catches, face drops. “What…? You pitched the show? How did you even get a meeting with the network?”
“Charlie. Benefits of being friends with an American god. He has more sway than a bodyguard.”
Jack processes, his smile overwhelmed and rising and rising. “What are you going to say when I turn the camera on you now?”
“I’m your subject, Highland. And I can live the most joyous life knowing that.”
We draw into a lively kiss. Hands on faces, chest pressed to chest. And the sun descends a little more. Glowing over our embrace, and we break to continue our trek across the rooftop.
As we move closer to the edge, Jack playfully hangs his arms over my shoulders from behind. I reach back and clasp his neck. We kiss again, and he smacks my ass before he comes next to me.
We’re laughing. Smiling, and then we reach the brick side.
We look out at the sun again. At the Philly skyline. Our arms hooked around each other.
I’ve watched the sun set and rise in different cities, different