But beating this for her?

Yeah. I’d fight demons for her. I’d fight the darkness in me, the sickness. I’d fight that damn tumor. And I’d live. Because I sure as hell wanted a 2014 with that girl in my arms.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Words aren’t really coming at this point. I mean I knew he was basically a billionaire but…everything seems so normal so wonderful. I feel like I’m waiting for the ball to drop. Why do I keep feeling that way?

Kiersten

Overwhelmed didn’t even begin to describe how I felt. I had my own bathroom, with a rain shower, heated tile, a heated towel rack, a flat screen TV. I mean seriously, I could go on and on. I even Facetimed Uncle Jo so he could see everything.

He gasped like I knew he would. Pretty soon I had Uncle Jo, my aunt, and their two dogs, all gaping at the iPhone screen as I slowly did a panoramic shot of the bathroom. Wow, how lame, I was actually taking pictures of someone else’s bathroom like a complete and total stalker.

“Can I move there?” Uncle Jo asked. Aunt San swatted him across the chest while he chuckled and asked again. The dogs barked. I missed them. Before I knew it, I started to get emotional. What had I been thinking these past two years? Locking myself in my room to grieve when I had a family waiting outside the whole time.

“You okay?” Uncle Jo asked when I took him off Facetime and pressed the phone to my ear.

“Yeah.” I sighed. “Just really thankful for you guys. I love you.”

“We love you too, kiddo. Now, get off the phone and take lots of pictures so I can live through you, okay?”

“Deal.” I laughed and said goodbye, hanging up the phone and walking around my giant bedroom. It had a deck that overlooked the Puget Sound. It was also bigger than five of my rooms back home. It had a large over-stuffed bed, and I’m pretty sure if I snapped my fingers an iPod would turn on.

A knock sounded on the door and then it opened.

“Good thing I wasn’t changing.” I joked as Wes stepped in.

“Damn.” He grinned. “I was hoping I’d catch you unaware.”

“Clever.”

He stalked toward me. “I thought so.”

I turned my attention back to the water. The view was so pretty¸ and for it being Thanksgiving it wasn’t all too cold outside.

Wes went and took a seat in one of the deck chairs and then patted his knee. I shook my head no.

He smiled. Seriously that’s all it took. One smile and I was putty, absolutely useless against his magic boy powers. With a heavy sigh — you know, to show my disapproval at his manipulation — I sat on his lap and leaned back against his chest.

“Thank you,” he whispered into my hair after a few silent minutes, “for coming with me.”

“Pretty sure it should be me thanking you.” I linked my hands in his. “And thanks for being my boyfriend for two weeks.”

He tensed.

“What? You did say two weeks, right?” I elbowed him in the ribs. “I mean, you’re throwing me a bone. That’s it, right?”

“No.” He turned me in his lap. “No bone, no pity dates. I want you…” His hand caressed my face gently, his fingertips grazing my skin and then pulling back as if the contact was too much for him to handle. “I like you a lot.”

“So… the two weeks is up for discussion?” I joked.

He swallowed, staring into my eyes as if searching for something, “I’ll tell you what…” His voice cracked. “I’ll give you as much time as I have.”

“As much time as you have.” I searched his face trying to figure out why he would say it like that. “Are you planning on not having much time?”

He looked straight through me. It was as if he had seen a ghost, his face went pale and his eyes watered.

“Sure.” I answered quickly. “As much time as you have.”

“Promise?” He jerked his head away and looked out at the ocean. “Promise me?”

“I promise.”

“Good.” His smile returned, he kissed me on the cheek. “Let’s go get dinner then. I’m sure dad’s hungry and you’ve had a long day. We can watch a movie later, alright?”

“Sounds good.” I hopped off his lap but didn’t release his hand; for some reason it seemed important. Important that I touch him as much as possible. How crazy did that sound? I felt this urgency to be near him as if he was going to disappear at any minute. Wow, who was insecure now? I pushed the thought out of my head and swore to myself I wasn’t going to overthink it. I liked him, he liked me, and I officially had more than two weeks. I knew it was like we were moving fast, but I really liked him, and I knew in my heart two weeks would never be enough. Actually, I was pretty sure that whole year wouldn’t be enough. Summer might just ruin me if I didn’t get to see him at least once. Who knew? Maybe I could take summer school so I could be close by; that was, if he wasn’t bored with me by then.

****

Dinner went by smoothly. You know, if smooth meant I couldn’t decide which fork to use with my salad and which one to use with the salmon. At one point Mr. Michels, or Randy as he preferred I call him, began showing me which utensil to use by lifting it high in the air and diving into his food. I kind of loved him. He had Wes’s fun personality but still seemed to be grounded.

I was stuffed by the time the meal was done.

“And now…” Randy pushed back his chair. “I bid you farewell. Tomorrow we have turkey and I’m watching football.”

“Amen,” Wes said.

“Um, Wes, can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Sure.” Wes pushed away from the table and followed his dad into the hall.

I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but at one point it looked like Randy was trying to feel Wes’s pulse. Weird. They seemed to be arguing, and then Randy swore and pinched the bridge of his nose and walked off. Wes’s shoulders slumped as he slammed his fist against the wall, not hard, but hard enough to show that he was upset.

“Everything okay?” I asked in a small voice, coming up behind him.

His eyes scanned the house, as if memorizing it one last time. “Yeah, just father-son stuff. Football stuff really.” Wes shrugged. “No biggie. Hey—” He flashed me another killer smile. “Let’s go watch a movie.”

“Cool.”

When he said movie I thought he meant in the living room.

Not a theater room.

With popcorn and reclining seats.

From here on out when I think of heaven this is the picture I’m going to have in my head. Sitting with Wes in our own private movie theater, at his house, holding his hand.

“Any movie, but it has to be a Christmas movie.” He clicked through the Apple TV. “You pick.”

“Why Christmas?”

“I love Christmas.” He shrugged. “And I may not be around for Christmas this year, at least not in this house, so I thought it’d be nice to watch.”

“Where are you going to be?”

“Oh, we have other houses around the area, just depends on my dad’s mood which one we stay at.”

“How awful for you,” I teased.

“My cross, my burden. Now pick.” He flipped me the remote and put his hands behind his head.

“I choose…” I clicked through. “This one.”

He squinted at the screen. “You’re kidding.”

“You said any Christmas movie and I believe you said lady’s choice.”

“It’s Mickey Mouse.”

“My favorite Christmas movie. You gonna go back on your word?”

“You really are my little lamb aren’t you? All innocent, wanting to watch Mickey Mouse Christmas.” He reached out and stroked my face. “Tell me it’s wrong to want to blot out all that purity… right here, right now.”

“It’s wrong,” I said simply, ignoring the buzzing in my head as his fingers ran down the side of my cheek.

He sighed and pulled back. “Fine, the lamb speaks, Big Bad Wolf listens.”

“As it should be.” I leaned into him and then moved the armrest so I could truly lay across him.

“And then Lamb tempts Wolf,” Wes said in a low voice.