Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73817 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73817 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
“As long as you don’t feed me the yellow ones.”
“Which one’s your favorite, then?”
“Reds.”
“I’ll remember that,” says Sean as he fishes a red one out, then pokes it at my lips. “Open up, baby.”
I gaze at him. “‘Baby’? You’re calling me ba—?” He pops it into my mouth before I can finish the word. I chew on it as I smirk. “Sweet.”
“And tart. Hence the name. Want another, baby?”
“Is this a new thing we’re starting? ‘Baby’?”
“Sure. I’m feeling playful tonight.” He grins at me. His eyes practically sparkle in the bright light coming off the big screen. “If you don’t like ‘baby’, I can call you Coopy.”
I snort. “Oh, no you don’t, boy. You are not bringing back Coopy or else I’m bringing back Seany.”
He laughs and twists around to rest his head in my lap, then stares up at me. His smile fades as his big bright eyes search mine. “Sean … Seany … I sometimes wonder if they’re two different people now. One is the demon inside of me who has seen and done terrible things. The other …” He shrugs. “The other one is who I want to be. One’s a red candy … the other, yellow. One is baby … the other, not.”
I bring my hand to his hair and gently stroke, watching his face with concern. “What do you mean?”
“You told me about your past self. Long before you and I met. Your crazy, promiscuous twenties. Your days of partying and living it up.” He tilts his head as he gazes up into my eyes. “Do you ever think of the Young Coop?—your own Coopy?”
“From time to time, I guess. What about him?”
“Do you ever wish he was around again? Do you ever get the, like, hankering to be a crazy, fun-for-all party boy again, doing whatever you want, setting the clubs on fire?”
The idea almost makes me laugh. “Not anymore.”
“So what’s your secret? How did you cut ties with that younger you? How did you … tame your own demon?”
“I’ve lived many more years than you. Time did most of the work.” Sean feeds me another red one by surprise, then chuckles at the look on my face. I gaze down at him. “I think the circumstances of my life changed. Suddenly I wasn’t able to be that version of myself anymore. I needed to be something else. It was time to grow up.”
“To grow up. Hmm …” There’s a loud sound from the movie, causing him to lift his head and look at the screen for a moment. I watch the movie flickering over his eyes.
I keep caressing his soft, messy hair. “Are you worried about your own past self? Is that why you’re asking about how I dealt with mine?”
“I try not to think about it. But it’s not easy.”
“If it means anything to you, I think you’ve grown up quite a bit these past few weeks.”
He faces me again. “Really?”
“These are your new circumstances. Your friends. This island. All the great stuff you’ve got going on.” I smile. “I think in time, you won’t even remember your old pain. It’ll all be memories. Behind you. Far, far away … Nowhere it can hurt you or touch you ever again.”
With his head in my lap gazing up at me, his eyes look like bottomless pools of emotion. I could lean too far into them and fall forever.
“You promise?” he says quietly.
I caress his face. “Yeah, baby. I promise.”
He lifts himself up to kiss me. The kiss isn’t short. It feels deep, loving, and meaningful. It casts away every fear in our minds. It finishes every thought we had and didn’t voice. It takes care of all our worries and leaves us feeling free, connected, and safe.
Then he pulls away and peers into my eyes. “So I’m the baby, then?”
I laugh. “Feed me another red and we’ll find out.”
He does just that, then cuddles against me with the rest of the bag in hand as we resume watching the movie. I tuck him under an arm and hold him close, enjoying every bit of time we’ve got together.
It’s almost two in the morning when the movie’s over. Sean still looks like he’s got enough energy to last an entire marathon, which may very well happen when we get home, provided I don’t pass out immediately. We throw away our trash, bid farewell to the sleepy-eyed usher waiting on us to leave, then make our way out of the theater.
As we cross the parking lot, he takes hold of my hand. I glance at him with a curious look, smile, then decide to let it happen, our hands swinging playfully between us. It feels like the most natural thing in the world—us walking side by side in our sweet little paradise.
When we reach the corner, however, Sean stops cold. He looks over his shoulder. Concerned, I follow his line of sight to a park across the street.