Adore Me

He opens his eyes slowly and sits up. “Mhmm. I was just having the best dream.”

“I’m sorry I woke you, then.”

He quickly pulls me into his chest and kisses the top of my head. “Don’t be. This is even better than the dream.”

“I was going to let you sleep in, but Damian wants to surf. Have you ever surfed before?”

“No, I never have.”

“Well, then either I can teach you, you can watch, or you can eat and go back to sleep. I brought you a smoothie and a couple homemade granola bars. When we’re done surfing, Inga is making Damian’s favorite breakfast.”

“What’s the favorite breakfast?” he asks, while taking a drink of his raspberry-coconut smoothie.

“Homemade ci

“That sounds really good.”

I snuggle closer to him and close my eyes. “Aiden, I’m sorry about yesterday. My emotions were kinda all over the place.”

“It’s okay. Mine were too.” He rubs his palm down my arm. “I was afraid you’d kick me off the plane, then I was so happy you didn’t, then I was pissed when I thought Damian was your ex. Then, after you put your board away, you seemed really distant. But what you said about being afraid you’d never lay on my shoulder again made it all worth it. I went to sleep feeling quite content.”

I laugh. “Sounds to me like your feelings were feeling complicated.”

“Exactly,” he says with a laugh as he rolls on top of me and kisses me with lips that taste of raspberry.

After a thorough kiss, he leans his elbow above my head. “We were supposed to talk on the plane.”

“Do you still want to?”

“That all depends,” he says, his fingers making a lazy trail down the side of my neck. “In forty years are you going to dredge it back up?”

“If I do, I won’t be mad about it anymore.” I picture myself watching Aiden forty years from now, dressed in jeans and dusty cowboy boots, his dark blond hair starting to gray at the temples, those bright green eyes still speaking to my soul as he wanders onto our front porch, our grandchildren in tow, their hands and mouths full of dark red grapes they just picked from the vineyard.

“Promise?” he says, those green eyes asking way more about what the promise implies.

I can think of a million reasons why I won’t even know Aiden forty years from now, but I can’t make myself say anything but, “I promise.”

“So let’s focus on the positive.”

“Right,” I agree, willing myself to let go and live in the now. At least for the next seventy-some hours. “It’s Thanksgiving day. We’re together in paradise, and we have a busy day.”

“A busy day? I thought we were supposed to be relaxing.”

“We will be, but there’s a lot to do here. Surf. Eat. Lie in the sun. Eat more.”

“You forgot something important,” he says as he curls his hand into my robe and draws me in closer. “This is soft.”

“What’d I forget?”

“Kissing.”

Then he kisses me until I can't think straight.

Eventually, I force myself to say, “We’re supposed to be out surfing. You need to go get your suit on.”

He reluctantly nods, but then gives me another electrifying kiss.

The kind of kiss that infuses me with so much more than love potion.

It infuses me with hope.

Aiden follows me to the storage shed so I can outfit him with a board.

“I’m going to start you out on this board. It’s a little bigger and more forgiving when you’re learning.”

He grabs the board and says, “Great. Let’s get out in the water.”

“Not so fast.” I look at the board, knowing it hasn’t been used in a while. “Run your hand over the surface here where you’re going to be laying. Do you feel anything?”

He wipes his hand across the board. “Nope. Is that good?”

“Not really. It’s way too slick. We need to wax it first.” I grab a square piece of wax, break it in half, hand it to him, and then lay our boards across a pair of sawhorses. I rub both boards down with a soft cloth to clean them and then say, “Okay, so first, you’re going to just rub it back and forth like this. Just a little. Not using much pressure. I like just a thin coat.”

He mimics what I do. “Got it. Is this how everyone does it?”

“No, it’s just how I like mine. You use different types of wax depending on the temperature of the water, but everyone has their own way to do it. Some use special tools to put the wax on, some just use the wax like we are. Some layer it differently. But the goal is the same. The wax gives you grip.”

“When I was learning how to skateboard, my dad stapled sandpaper over the top of mine.”

“Exactly, that’s the same idea. Only with wax, you can still see the cool design of your board.”

“Yours is really cool.”

“Thanks. It’s custom. Fit to my weight, height, and abilities.”

“And the design?”

I lower my head and press on my wax with a little more intensity. “Okay, so now you’re going to do this. Make Xs or crosshatching across your board. From rail to rail. Just in this area here where you will lay and stand. And then a little more right up here on the rail where you’ll place your hands while getting up.”

I see Aiden’s shadow fall across my board then his finger is under my chin, pushing it up so I have to look at him. “And the design?” he asks again.

“The Keats guy had it custom-made for my sixteenth birthday.”

“Is that why you were upset last night? It reminds you of him?”

I sigh. “No, that wasn’t it, exactly.”

He doesn’t give up. “What upset you, then? Exactly?”

I run my hand across the sticker. “This sticker is new. It matches our tattoos. The chaos.”

“Life is divine chaos,” he reads and nods his head in agreement. “That’s true. You never know what’s going to happen next. Like, with my mom’s cancer. Life was crazy, chaotic, and scary. But out of all that came something divine. She got her life back and is happier than she’s ever been.”

“She must be a really strong person. I don’t know if I could be that strong.”

“She considered fighting cancer like fighting a war with a worthy opponent, but one that was not invincible. You’re stronger than you know, Boots, and if you ever have to fight something, I’m confident you’ll be able to handle it.”

I look down and slide the wax across my board again. I’m probably putting way too much on, but I don’t care because I’m too busy praying that he’s right.

“Okay, then!” I say with fake excitement. “Let’s get you out in the sand!”

“Don’t you mean water?”

“Nope, you gotta practice getting up on the board first. Lots easier to figure that out on the sand than in the water like I did.” I set my board down in the sand and he follows suit. “So, lie down on the board like this; then, when you’re ready, pop up like this into a standing position.” I sit down on my board and give him a smirk. “Now, drop and give me twenty.”

Aiden salutes me, then drops back down onto the board. I watch as he quickly pops up to a standing position. As he counts down from twenty to one, I’m wishing I had told him to do a hundred. When he lies down on the board, he places his arms in front of him, like he’s going to do a push up. This causes his shoulder muscles to ripple, his biceps to flex, and makes me wish I could slide under him every time he drops back down onto the board. He moves fluidly and effortlessly, his coordinated body doing exactly what he expects of it.

By the time he’s counted down to one, he’s starting to sweat. Little beads of perspiration are glistening across his chest. A thin line of water is ru

I remember the first time I saw him. Yeah, my original observation was dead on. He is so the God of all Hotties.