“What’s wrong?”
“All of my stuff—everything—is already in New York. I’ve gotta call the landlord from my apartment there. I shipped everything last week.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of all that. Did you have luggage?” I ask.
“Yeah, I had already checked it,” she says with worry.
“I’ll call the airlines. Don’t stress about it. We’ll get everything shipped back,” I tell her, but I’m not letting her move back in with Kimber. I have her here with me, and I don’t want any more space between us, so I add, “But babe, when I arrange everything, I’m having it shipped here.”
She nods her head, not picking up on what I’m saying, so I clarify, “Here to my loft.” When I see her pinch her brows together, I say, “I want you here. With me.”
“Move in?”
“Yeah. Move in. I don’t want to be apart from you.”
The smile that grows on her lips is beautiful, and I can’t help myself when I kiss her.
“God, I missed that smile,” I say. “It’s been too long.”
“So that’s it?” she questions.
“That’s it,” I give her. “I want this to be your home. Here with me.”
She wraps her body around me, hugging me close when she whispers in my ear, “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Everything.”
After talking everything out this afternoon, Candace was drained and had a headache, so I gave her some aspirin, and she’s been upstairs sleeping for the past hour. I go ahead and make all the phone calls to arrange for her belongings to be shipped back here. Her luggage should be at the airport tomorrow morning, so at least she’ll have her clothes.
It’s amazing how quickly everything can change. One minute, I thought I’d lost her and the next, she’s back here and agreeing to move in with me. But I don’t want to waste any more time. I want to pick up where we left off, and it seems she wants the exact same thing.
When I notice the sun starting to set, I call in an order for dinner at the little Italian place down the street that Candace likes so much, figuring she could use a solid meal after the day she’s had. As I set the phone down, I hear a ringing from Candace’s purse that’s lying on the coffee table. I pull out her phone and answer it when I see that it’s Jase calling.
“Hey.”
“Ryan?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
“Sorry, man. I thought I was calling Candace but accidentally dialed you,” he says.
“No, this is Candace’s phone.”
“Huh?”
“She’s here,” I tell him, and I know he’s completely thrown off when he questions, “What do you mean she’s there?”
“After you called me this morning, she showed up at my door. She didn’t get on the plane. She’s been here ever since.”
“What happened? Is she not going?”
Sitting down on the couch, I tell him, “No. She’s staying. She took the spot at PNB.”
“Is she happy?”
“She’s happy,” I say before letting him know, “She’s moving in.”
“With you?”
“Yeah.”
He takes a pause before saying, “I knew she’d make the right choice.”
Laughing, I say, “She nearly destroyed me in the process.”
He begins to laugh with me, and then asks, “Can I talk to her?”
“She has a headache and is sleeping right now.”
“Just have her give me a call later, okay?”
“No problem.”
“I’m really happy you guys worked things out. She wasn’t the same without you.”
“Thanks, man. You’ve been a really good friend to me.”
“No thanks needed. You guys have a good night and give her a kiss for me. I didn’t know what I was going to do without her.”
“Me neither. Talk to you later,” I say before we hang up.
Walking upstairs, I step into the bedroom and look at the only love I ever want to know, curled up in my sheets. She’s peaceful and quiet as she sleeps. She needs this after the emotional day she’s had. We spent hours in this bed, hashing everything out, filling in all the gaps, and settling all the questions. But it needed to happen, and finally, for the first time, everything feels whole.
46
Candace and I finally drag ourselves downstairs for some much needed coffee after making love all morning. I’ll never get my fill of her, and I made sure she knew that.
She’s a little needy this morning, but I like that. I’ve missed that—her need to have me close. It’s to be expected with everything going on, so I hold her hand as we walk downstairs and into the kitchen.
“All I have is milk, babe. We’ll have to stop by the store to get you your creamer and stock up on groceries.”
“When did you get this?” she questions, and when I look over to her, she’s checking out the cappuccino machine.
“My mom. She got it for my birthday.”
“Birthday?”
Grabbing the milk to pour into her coffee, I say, “Yeah.”
“When was your birthday?” she asks as I hand her the mug and head over to the couch.
“Last month. May nineteenth.”
“Oh,” she says with a twinge of sadness.
“Babe, don’t let it bother you. It’s really not a big deal.”
Taking her eyes off of her mug, she looks up at me as she rests her back against the arm of the couch and says, “It does bother me. I feel like I’ve missed so much time with you.”
“You weren’t missing much. Nothing happened. Everything was literally in slow motion the whole time.”
“I still feel bad that I wasn’t here for your birthday.”
Setting my coffee down on the end table, I take hers as well, setting it aside as I pull her over to me and fold her in my arms. “None of that matters, so just forget it, okay?”
“I can’t just forget it.”
“Would it make you feel better if I told you that I was with you on my birthday?”
She pops her head up and stares at me with question. “What do you mean?”
“I saw you the night before,” I tell her. “I went to see you dance.”
“You were there?”
“Nothing would have kept me from seeing you that night,” I tell her and then kiss her forehead. “You were amazing. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you.”
“I didn’t think you were there. I saw your mom afterward, but I had no clue.”
“You saw my mom?”
“Yeah. I ran into her as I was leaving.”
“She never told me that,” I say, but then remember telling my mom that we weren’t going to mention Candace again. I never gave her a chance to tell me.
“I felt awful.”
“Why? What did she say?”
“All the right things, but it was hard to see her because I was missing her. She drove all that way and then I told her that I needed space. It just hurt too much,” she explains.
“I know she wasn’t expecting anything. She just really wanted to see you dance. I told her not to come, but she insisted.”
“I miss her,” she says as she rests her head on my shoulder. “I feel like I should apologize or something.”
“For what?” I ask with a light chuckle. “You didn’t do anything, babe. If anyone should be apologizing, it’s me, so stop thinking that you did something wrong, ‘cause you didn’t.”
She nods her head, unconvinced, but I don’t push. Instead, I offer, “Why don’t we go visit her in a couple of weeks for Fourth of July weekend?”
Her smile shows off her dimple when she says, “I’d like that.”
“I’ll give her a call later today.”
“Speaking of calls, I need to call Kimber. My car is at her parents’ house. We should probably go pick it up today.”