Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59405 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59405 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
“Christ—”
“Wait. Let me say everything. You told me you’d fight for me. You said you’d stand by me. I knew I had to work through the BS on my own. So I stood up in front of a bunch of old guys in suits and I thought to myself, ‘What would Rory do?’ And you know what? I kicked ass and I have no regrets. You’re my rock, my teacher, my friend. I want to be that for you too. For the rest of our lives. I don’t care where we live, what we do…I just want you.”
Rory stood and pulled me into his arms. We held each other in a strong embrace until he pushed back slightly to seal his lips over mine. The kiss was sweet and full of promise. It marked a beginning of sorts. Our beginning.
We broke for air and grinned at each other like a couple of fools.
“I love you. You’ve always been stronger than you think, baby.”
“Maybe so.”
“Hmm. But you still have to pass statistics,” he teased.
I threw my head back and laughed before wrapping my arms around his neck.
I didn’t stop to wonder what we looked like to the average passerby. Two men engaged in a passionate embrace in a coffee shop in broad daylight. One dressed in a suit and tie and the other in casual jeans and a jacket that covered his ink. If anyone was offended by our public display, they didn’t say a word. Not that I cared. I was done hiding, and I was done worrying about what others thought. This man and the life we made were all that mattered. It was time to set my old worries aside, come out on the offense, and begin anew.
Epilogue
“You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”—Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice
The pet store seemed more crowded than usual for a Thursday evening. Then again, everywhere in Long Beach was somewhat congested in summertime. School was out and tourist season was in full swing. It made sense that parking spaces were harder to come by near the beach in June, but I certainly didn’t think we’d be brushing elbows with the masses to get to the cat corner.
We passed a gaggle of kids jumping excitedly in front of the lizard and snake displays and another group pointing at the exotic fish aquarium before stopping to check out a few toys along the way.
“Buttons needs this,” I said, holding up a hot dog in a bun squeeze-toy.
Rory rolled his eyes. “That’s for dogs, not cats. The queen wouldn’t be impressed.”
“Then I think we should get a dog. A small, hypoallergenic one. No shedding, no fuss, no mess. What do you say?”
“We aren’t home enough. You’ve got to walk a dog, play with a dog, and be around in general. Cats are easy. They just want to be left alone. The more you play with Buttons, the more she thinks you’re a psycho to be avoided at all costs. See? Much easier.”
“Ha. Maybe I’m the needy one. You have to admit that it would be nice to have a little canine friend around, though. We have a yard now. We can do it!”
Rory and I moved into a cute two-bedroom bungalow a couple of blocks from the ocean. It was just two miles from Rory’s old apartment, but it was a million times nicer. The bathroom and kitchen needed updating, but it had cool original features like hardwood flooring and arched doorways. Best of all, it had a yard that was big enough to host friends and certainly enough room for a puppy to romp around.
But Rory was right. Our schedules were erratic. Between classes and training clients at the YMCA and substitute teaching, he was busier than ever. And in the fall, he’d be back in school himself, working toward his master’s degree. He’d been accepted into an elite program at UCLA, and while he wasn’t thrilled to take on student-loan debt, he knew the degree was necessary if he wanted to become a mathematics professor. The idea alone of my hunky man pointing out complicated equations on a chalkboard with his sleeves rolled up, exposing his tattoos and accentuating his muscles, made me swoon. None of my college professors had ever looked like him. I might have been more interested if I’d had eye-candy incentive. Now I was just happy I never had to take another math class again.
Thankfully, I passed both semesters of statistics, so I could concentrate on my minor when I returned for my fifth and final year at Chilton. I signed up for two summer classes that began the end of June, but I had a little more free time than normal. Of course, that wouldn’t be the case in August when football season was in full swing again.