Page 82 of Kissing is the Easy Part

When I wake up, Sean is still sleeping. Sunlight filters through the blinds, casting striped shadows across the bed and painting his back in soft patches of light. Through the window, the leaves are a mix of bronze and gold, and beyond the western hemlocks, the lake melts into the surrounding cerulean mountains, with clouds lacing the sky like a chiffon dress. I slip out of bed, head to the kitchen, and make a cup of espresso with our new coffee maker, plus a latte for myself. I bring them to the nightstand so he’ll wake up to his favorite drink. I want to slide my fingers into his hair, but hesitate to startle him.

He’s angelic. His face is partly buried in the pillow, eyebrows arched at the perfect angle. My heart is bursting at the seams with love for him. I love him, and it’s for so much more than just how beautiful he is.

His lashes flutter and his eyes open. They settle on me, and he smiles. “Hey, button.”

“Good morning.”

“You’re still here. Then yesterday wasn’t a dream.”

I lean over to stroke his face. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

He grabs my hand and kisses my knuckles. “I had the best day of my life, and I woke up next to you. And you made me coffee. It smells so good.” He rubs his eyes and sits up, reaching for the mug.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Better than I have in a long time.” He squints at me over the rim with his eyes soft. “I don’t think I can go back to my own bed now.”

Good thing he doesn’t know how much our mattress cost. He’d never relax on it again.

As Coco Chanel once said, the best things in life are free; the second-best things are very, very expensive. I’ve forgotten how wonderful the very best thing in my life can be. He wraps his arms around me, and it reminds me of all the pure and lovely things. Warm sun, budding flowers, mist rising off the lake at dawn, and the earthy scent of rain-soaked pine trees.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” I say, pulling my knees up to my chest.

“What?”

I take a deep breath. “We’re supposed to have no more secrets left, but . . .” I sigh. “There’s one last thing I’ve been keeping from you.”

“What’s that?” He sits up straight, the duvet slipping to his thighs.

“I don’t know how you’ll take it, so promise me you won’t freak out.”

He exhales, running a hand through his messy hair. “I’ll try.”

“Okay, here it goes . . . wait, no, I’m nervous about your reaction.”

“Jesus, Flora! Just tell me.”

“I know this is uncool, and probably too soon, but . . .” I pause a few long seconds for effect. “I love you.”

It’s his turn to be silent. His body tenses as he leans back, creating distance between us. There’s no joy on his face. “I wish you hadn’t said that.”

This guy doesn’t know how to respond properly! My face flares with heat. “You don’t need to say it back or anything. I just want you to know how—”

“Why do you have to initiate everything? It should bemyturn to say it first.” He shakes his head in mock disapproval before breaking into a gorgeous smile that stops my heart. His smile is the best-kept secret in the Pacific Northwest. “I love you too. I love you so much, you have no idea.”

I laugh, swatting him with a pillow. “Why are you so annoying?”

He tackles me and we roll over on the bed, laughing. “I love you, Flora. You make me deliriously happy.”

“When did you realize that?” I ask when we break apart. “When did you start loving me?”

He doesn’t answer right away. When he finally does, he says, “I’m not sure of the exact moment. But thinking back, ever since your confession at Raymond’s party, I can’t remember evernotloving you.”

His eyes are calm and sincere, and he’d never lie to me. I roll back into his arms and smile until my face hurts.

Chapter Twenty-eight

Sean