It feels almost impossible that he could have come. That he would love me and I would love him. One chance in a billion. The great human experiment. “Did it work?”
Blue eyes search mine. “Let’s find out.”
That makes me laugh, though I’m not sure why. It’s a joyous sound.
Sutton pulls something from his pocket and drops to one knee. A brilliant cushion cut diamond sparkles at me from a blue Tiffany box. “Marry me.”
Emotion tightens my throat. Tears prick my eyes. People turn to watch us. There’s clapping and cheering. We’re surrounded by friends and by strangers. All of them understand what’s happening, because this is more than an experiment.
It’s the great human constant. “Yes.”
The people around us go wild. More hats fly into the air.
Sutton pulls me into his arms and kisses me like he’s never letting go.
* * *
Ashleigh
I take him back to my dorm room, which is swarming with students heading to after-parties and a few families helping their graduates move out. Sugar hisses when she sees Sutton and runs out of the room. “Don’t take it personally,” I say. “She hates men. And my neighbor keeps cat treats on his nightstand.”
He gets this look on his face like he’s holding something in. A comment. A question.
“What?” I ask, pausing in the act of moving a box of books from my bed.
It’s like the question is pulled forcibly from his body, catching on everything on the way out. “Have there been a lot of men here? Christ. I wasn’t supposed to ask that.”
I try to look stern. “Are you slut shaming me?”
“God. No. I’m a caveman. There’s no excuse for it.”
He’s so adorable when he’s flustered. Adorable and handsome and yes—there’s something distinctly caveman about him. The suit and slacks can’t disguise the primal male who’s come to claim his mate. “Have there been a lot of women for you?”
“No.”
“What about men?”
“No, but I am friends with Christopher again. Just friends. There hasn’t been anyone for me. I have five years’ worth of frustration built up. Five years of hitting the gym and cold showers. Five years of beating off to the image of you in my bed. You aren’t going to keep me waiting, are you, Ashleigh?”
Once I’ve cleared space on the bed I drift toward him, wrapping my arms around his neck. We’re inches away. “I dated,” I murmur.
His hands tighten on me. “I’m not mad at you. I swear. It’s just that I need to go run ten miles, and then we can have this conversation.”
I laugh softly. “I never brought them back here.”
He doesn’t relax. “You have a right to date whoever you want.”
“Or went to their place.”
“It’s natural to want to explore.”
“There hasn’t been anyone I wanted except you.”
“Thank fuck,” he says, pressing his lips to mine. His tongue searches into my mouth, finding my tongue, my teeth, the silk on the insides of my cheeks. It’s like he wants to explore every square centimeter of me, like he wants to breathe me into his lungs.
We fall in a tangle of limbs on my twin-sized bed, fully clothed, our lips together. His legs are too long for the space, and we bump into the headboard and my nightstand.
“Sorry,” I say, gasping as my elbow hits the wall.
“Is there room in your life for me?” he asks, his blue eyes deep.
There’s a lot I don’t know about my life. I graduated with honors with a bachelor’s in biology. I have acceptance into medical school. There will be long hours and interning and a ridiculous amount of work to achieve my dreams. But I know one thing. There’s room for love.
“Yes,” I say stroking his wild curls back from his forehead. There are new lines on his face. Stress lines. Grooves on the side of his mouth. This isn’t a man afraid of hard work.
“I love you, Sutton Mayfair.”
“Good,” he says, turning me onto my back. “Because I’ve waited long enough.”
Epilogue
The car passes the Den and I tense in the passenger seat.
“You okay?” he murmurs. Of course he sees the anxiety building even though I’ve tried to hide it. He told me we were coming to the west side. I knew it would raise some memories.
“Sure,” I lie.
He mutters a quiet curse. “It’s too soon. We can come back another time.”
“No.” I’m insistent. “I want to see my surprise.”
His hand runs over his face and through his hair in that way he has when he’s frustrated at himself. It makes him look rumpled and sexy. “I should have gotten you flowers as a surprise. Balloons. Chocolate. Do you like chocolate?”
“We’ll get chocolate later.”
We only have a few weeks until I start medical school this fall, so we’re making the most of it—riding horses around the ranch, leaving for local fairs and cultural festivals. It’s like we’re both determined to make up for all the time we waited to be together.
This morning he woke me up with something new: a surprise.
Knowing Sutton, it could literally be anything.
We pull to a stop on my regular street corner, and my pulse speeds up. How many nights did I stand on that corner, hugging the lamppost, trying to gather the nerve to get a customer? I’d have thought the years would make it easier, but shame sinks in my stomach.
He mutters another curse.
I stare at the two square yards of concrete. I can already see every crack in my mind. Every uneven place in the bricks of the building. Every rut in the street. This place is more familiar to me than anything I know now—my dorm room, the university. No matter how much time has passed, this corner’s emblazoned in my mind.
I’m trembling by the time Sutton opens my car door.
He pulls me to standing. “Should we get out of here?”
“No,” I say stubbornly. “Not until I get my surprise.”
His blue eyes are tender. “You know I love you.”
“You know I love you, too.”
He pulls me forward and then steps out of the way, revealing the sugar factory. I have every inch of that place mapped out as well, the window I hopped through, the fire escape I climbed. I could sketch the inside as quickly as I can sketch the human heart.
Except none of it’s there anymore.
The building has been restored, the exterior fixed and the brick lightened. Yellow light presses against the windows. Smoke curls from somewhere at the top of the building. A sign over the front door reads, Safe Haven.
As if in a trance I move toward the entrance, Sutton following behind.
A plaque marks the front entrance, with the following verse:
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep.
I take a shuddering breath to fortify miles. I have miles to go before I sleep.
The door has a very serious-looking lock on it, with a note. This is a home for women, LGBTQ, and at-risk populations. You are safe here. A little lower, it continues, Many of our guests are victims of sexual assault, domestic violence, human trafficking, and other trauma. Visitors must be approved by the administration and submit to a background check.