“Do you know how much I love you?” I whisper.
“Well, you better, because I’m just about to move to Bumfuck, London, to live with you.”
I chuckle and take her into my arms, and we hold each other, and after a while, I feel my heartbeat slowly return to normal.
“My mom is crying.” She sighs. “And our flight is boarding.”
“God.”
“You ready to go to Bumfuck, London?” She smiles up at me.
“Please tell me there’s bumfucking in London.”
“Keep dreaming.” She smirks as she turns and walks off.
I stare after her . . . awed.
Hayden Whitmore just may be the strongest person I know . . . perhaps have ever met.
Calm and content, her nature is a force to be reckoned with.
Just when I think I couldn’t love her any more, she goes and ups the ante.
I follow her out into the department lounge. With my heart breaking for her parents, I watch her kiss her mom and dad as they say their goodbyes.
I kiss her mom and shake Harvey’s hand, and he gives me a wink as a gentle reminder of the conversation we had.
“I’ll take good care of her.” I smile, grateful that he has bestowed me with such a precious gift. “Goodbye, Mr. Whitmore.”
“Goodbye, Christopher.”
I take Hayden’s hand, and as she waves to them over her shoulder, we start our new life.
Together.
HAYDEN
The car pulls into the underground parking lot, and I peer out the window in awe.
So many fancy cars all lined up.
We come to a stop beside the elevator, and the driver pops the trunk and hops out to retrieve our luggage.
“We won’t be going out again tonight,” Christopher tells him. “You may finish up.”
“Yes, sir.” He nods. “Would you like me to take your bags up for you?”
“No, I’ve got it. Thanks.”
“See you in the morning.” He turns to me with a kind smile. “Good night, Miss Whitmore.”
“Good night.” I smile. Oh, I like this driver. He’s a nice person; I can tell.
Christopher takes his big backpack and swings it onto his back and goes to take mine, too, and I hold the strap. “I’ve got it.”
“I’ll carry it up.”
“I am quite capable of carrying my own backpack, Christopher,” I huff. “Don’t insult my intelligence.”
He chuckles and drops it at my feet. It lands with a thud.
“You could have passed it to me,” I scoff.
“Wouldn’t want to insult your intelligence,” he mutters as he gets into the elevator. He turns to face the front with a mischievous look on his face.
I know that look.
I step in beside him and turn to face the front. “I suppose this apartment is going to be another dumpster fire.”
He chuckles. “You could say that.”
“And the bed?”
“Already been burned and a new one installed for your highness.”
“So where are we sleeping?”
“The new one is ready and waiting to be corrupted with your forever-faithful servant.”
“You’ve thought of everything.” I smile.
He links his pinkie finger through mine, and we both smile as we stare at the doors. Such a simple and small gesture, but . . . it means so much.
“Leather couch, white bathrooms,” I say.
He frowns over at me. “What do you mean?”
“I’m guessing that you have a leather couch and white marble bathrooms.”
He smiles . . . he likes this game. “What makes you say that?”
“Because I know your taste.”
“Oh.” He raises an eyebrow. “Is that so?”
“Uh-huh.”
“You want to bet on it?”
“Yep.” I hold my hand out to shake his. “Fifty bucks.”
His eyes twinkle in delight. “No, no, no, I only bet for things that I need.”
“Such as?”
“Anal.”
“What?” My eyes widen.
The elevator door opens, and he smiles over at me. “You heard me. I want to see how much of a gambler you really are.” He leans down and puts his lips to my ear and whispers, “If you’ll put your body on the line.”
I bite my lip to hide my smile.
It’s a test.
I roll my lips as I stare at him. This could backfire badly.
“All right . . . anal.” I hold my hand out, and we shake on it.
He opens the door with an evil laugh, and as I put my hands over my eyes, I laugh. “Don’t. I can’t even look.”
“Don’t worry, I have lube,” he teases as he pulls me through the apartment. My hands are still over my eyes.
“Stop it.”
“Ta-da.” He pulls my arms down, and we are in the most beautiful living room of all time. A chocolate leather couch sits proud as punch in the center of the room.
“Ha.” I laugh. “I knew it.”
“But . . . are the bathrooms white?”
I smile. I like this game too.
I turn and run up the stairs to find his bedroom as he chases me. I run down the large hallway and into the bedroom and stop dead in my tracks.
The air leaves my lungs, and my mouth falls open as I look around.
The bedroom is filled with red roses.
Vase after vase.
Beautiful roses with huge heads.