Page 142 of Only With Me

“Hmm…” I sit across from him at the table and scroll through Harlow’s and my text messages.

“She loves romance…she has a whole romance wishlist of things she wants to experience.”

“Okay?” Wilder arches a brow. “Like what?”

“Dancing outside at sunset, kissing in the rain, a couples massage, go-karting…” I list off a few of my favorites I wanted to experience with her too.

“Like date night ideas?”

“Yeah, kinda.”

“Okay, I can work with that.” He grabs my keys from the counter. “Grab your shit, let’s go.”

Standing, I follow him toward the door, then put on my boots.

“Where’re we goin’?” I ask once we’re outside.

“To the craft store.”

The fucking what?

“Whaddya know about crafts?”

“Excuse you, we’ve been doing scrapbookin’ on family nights for years.”

“Yeah, and you rarely stick ‘round for it.”

“I do sometimes, but if you don’t trust me, then fine—we’ll pick up Noah and make her help us, too.”

I groan. “Great.”

Three hours, a glass jar with hand painted hearts on it, and two-hundred and twenty-five paper hearts cut out later—I’m tapped out.

Bringing Noah was a big mistake.

The moment Wilder told her his craft idea, she went and took it to the next level.

Noah painted different colored hearts around the jar, Wilder cut heart shapes out of construction paper, and then I wrote one of her romance wishlist items on each piece. Since Harlow didn’t tell me every single one of hers, I added in some of my own that I want us to do.

Noah and Wilder might’ve chimed in and gave me some ideas, too.

Waylon’s Jar of Hearts for Harlowis written on a tag and tied with pink ribbon around the top of the jar. I’m hoping she’ll accept it as my promise to her that not only will we do these together but that I’ll never keep anything from her again.

“Look at us being all crafty and shit.” Wilder smirks at the mess we’ve made on my kitchen table. He grabs another two beers from my fridge and then sets one down in front of me.

“So now what? You gotta wait for her to reach out and then give it to her?”

I lift one shoulder, staring into space. “I guess.”

“Wait, no way. This needs to be a grand romantic gesture. You get the biggest floral arrangement you can find, write her a sincere apology and letter about what this Jar of Hearts means, and that you hope she’ll accept you back into her life. Then, you leave it for her to find and hopefully she’ll reach out to you sooner rather than later. That way you aren’t being pushy but you’re lettin’ her know she’s on your mind.”

“And if she doesn’t accept it or reach out?”

“Then we go to a strip club!” Wilder hollers.

“No!” Noah and I shout in unison.

“Y’all are no fun.” He pouts.