I rubbed her back, trying to calm her down, but if anything, my touch made it worse. She didn’t stop trembling.

And then without a word, she shot out of the chair and freaking attacked me—not in the sense that the tiny girl beat me with her fist and it tickled like she had a feather in her hands. Hell, no. She launched herself into my arms, wrapped her legs around my waist, and kissed me so hard on the mouth that I stumbled backwards, nearly colliding with the sliding glass door and giving myself a concussion.

With a grunt, I gripped her body in my hands and lifted her higher so I wouldn’t’ drop her then returned her kiss.

With. Every. Damn. Ounce. Of strength I had.

Kiersten’s response was to drop the jacket I’d lovingly placed on her shoulders and claw at my shirt.

Denying her would be like willingly shooting myself in the foot.

I freed up one of my hands and opened the sliding glass door then stepped through and shut it behind us. Kiersten opened her mouth, sucking on my tongue, making my knees shake a bit and blood roar in my veins. Where the hell were the bedrooms? I saw a living room, I saw no bed, I saw a hallway, okay hallways were good, right? Because they led to rooms?

“Holy shit.” I bit off when Kiersten’s nails dug into my back. Was my shirt off? How? How was that physically possible? I’d been holding her and then…I looked around, pieces of my shirt lay around the floor. I broke off our kiss. “Tell me the truth—were you Wonder Woman in another life?”

Kiersten’s answer?

Her clear green eyes narrowed as she wrapped her arms tighter around my neck and tugged my ear with her teeth.

“Yup,” I said hoarsely. “We’ll get you spandex later.”

Gently, I let her slide down my body and set her feet on the floor. Staring into her eyes, I smiled, and then I grabbed her hand and made a run for it. I was the romantic guy, the one who took things slow, the one who wanted to savor every moment with the girl I loved.

But right then? In that moment? I was a man possessed with such an obsessive need to claim what was mine—that I ran.

I freaking ran.

Like I was going for a Superbowl Ring and I dragged Kiersten behind me.

I pushed the first door open.

Bathroom. I groaned. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

Was I sweating?

Kiersten tugged my arm towards the end of the hall, and opened the door.

We both froze.

She dropped my hand and covered her face.

White daffodils were spread across the bed in the shape of a heart. In the middle, our initials stood out against the red satin.

A small trail of orange and yellow daffodils led us to the bed and to a waiting desk with a bottle of champagne and a card.

Kiersten picked it up and nodded once, twice, then shook her head and handed it to me without saying anything.

Snatching it, I read the first few lines.

Wes Freaking Michels. HAH! Fun fact, Daffodils are symbolic of new beginnings and fresh starts. Thus, the reason your room is littered with them. Saylor never wants to see another daffodil in her entire life so please, keep all flowers contained lest she stuff one in my mouth while I’m sleeping. I love you two. I was trying to think of a wedding gift that would do you both justice—that would show my love for my best friends. All that kept coming to me was that you guys got a second chance to write a very original story. A love story. One that’s so epic that even your grandchildren won’t believe it. So here you go. Attached to this note is a pen. I wrote the first part, hope you don’t mind. Enjoy your wedding night, enjoy the new beginning, and know…you’re stuck with me forever. Tell Kiersten not to roll her eyes. It’s rude.

Laughing, I grabbed the simple pen that was taped to the card and flipped it over to see what Gabe had written.

“Girl runs into boy…” I read aloud.

Kiersten looked down at the card and read the next part, “Girl feels up boy.”

I chuckled while Kiersten crossed her arms and scowled.

“Boy chases girl.”

“Girl—” Kiersten’s voice was hoarse. “—decides she wants to be chased.”

The next part was hard for me to read, I wasn’t sure why.

Kiersten put her hand over mine and slowly spoke for me. “Boy gets very sick.”

“Girl—” I held Kiersten tight. “—sticks by his side.”

“Boy and girl…” Tears streamed down Kiersten’s face, and she sniffed softly before she continued. “…fall asleep holding hands, and he tells her that even death couldn’t keep him from a lifetime of her smiles.”

A tear fell from my face onto Kiersten’s head as I murmured, “Boy lives.”

“Girl lives,” she whispered.

“They lived,” we said in unison…

The last line was a picture of us together with a giant heart drawn around it. Under the picture Gabe had written… So LIVE.

Love is beautiful. A gift from God. I think it’s sad, how easily we throw around the word without actually understanding the sacrifice behind its meaning. Love in its definition isn’t about a strong feeling towards someone, but an action. If people truly understood what it was—our world would be changed. Love is sacrifice, it’s holding someone’s hand even though you know they can’t feel it, like Gabe did with Kimmy. Love’s watching someone lose all their hair, and still finding them to be the most beautiful person you’ve ever come across. Love is more action than feeling…Love, isn’t just the way Wes looks at me, but the way he serves everyone around him as if he is nothing—and they are everything.—Mrs. Weston Michels

Kiersten

Wes placed the card back on the table, and his hands had a slight shake to them as he leaned his weight against the wood.

The room was silent, except for our breathing.

“You.” Wes nodded without looking at me. “Are a gift.”

It was one of those moments where I wasn’t sure if he wanted me to answer him, I wasn’t sure if he needed me to or if he was going to say more. All I knew was that I already felt the need to cry and I had no idea why!

“Historically, gifts were brought to kings in order to honor them.” Slowly, Wes moved away from the table and approached me, sinking to his knees on the floor. “People would travel all over the world, bringing their most prized possessions to place them at the feet of king they wanted to honor.”

He gripped my hands, his blue eyes flashing with determination. “It’s weird, wanting to honor the gift rather than the recipient. But here I am, on my knees, in front of the most beautiful gift I’ve ever received. If a king was placed behind you, if an entire monarchy was watching me fall to my knees, I’d still fall. I’d still lay down in front of the gift rather than the ruler, because the gift is that precious to me. More than gold, more than diamonds, more than the most expensive jewels in the world. You are more rare…” He cupped my face, brushing a kiss across my lips. “…than the rarest of jewels. I’d search the world for you. If I lost you, if you lost me, I’d never stop searching…for the gift, for you, not the King, because the treasure is you.”

Tears streamed down my face. I couldn’t think, I couldn’t…. Did this happen to people? In real life? The most beautiful man I’d ever laid eyes on, one of the richest men in the world, an NFL player was on his knees in front of me telling me that I was the most precious thing in the world.

Every girl should be told her worth the way Wes was telling me of mine. In that instant, my heart soared and I experienced true security. All because he told me I was important, special…a treasure.

Sniffling, I joined him on the floor, moving closer until we were chest-to-chest, both of us on our knees. “Then you’re my gift.”

Wes’s gaze never wavered from my face.

“If there was a king behind you, an emperor, a czar, I’d still honor the gift before I honored the recipient.”