Page 58 of The Ex-cavenger Hunt

My hands find their way into his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as I pull him closer, desperate to feel every inch of him against me. Ethan’s arms tighten around my waist, his hands splaying across my back, holding me flush against his chest. The kiss is a conversation without words, a promise of forever sealed with the brush of our lips and the mingling of our breaths.

Ethan responds with equal intensity, his hands finding their way to my back, pulling me closer. The world narrows down to this singular point of contact, where every sensation is magnified and every emotion heightened. It’s as if, in this kiss, I’m finding the colors Ethan spoke of, vibrant and alive, painting our world with hues of joy, passion, and an undeniable sense of belonging.

When we finally break apart, chests heaving and eyes locked, I feel a sense of completeness wash over me. “You’re my new color too, Ethan,” I whisper, my voice thick with emotion.

Ethan’s eyes sparkle with a hint of mischief as he pulls back slightly, his lips curving into a mysterious smile. “I do have one more thing for you,” he says, his voice low and playful.

I tilt my head, curiosity piqued as I search his face. “More?” I ask, my heart fluttering with anticipation.

“Well, there’s this lot I have. More like a small warehouse that could be used as a studio. Like an art studio,” he reveals, his eyes gauging my reaction, a hint of nervousness in his expression.

My eyes widen, and I feel a surge of excitement course through me. “You do?” I breathe, hardly daring to believe what I’m hearing.

“Uh-huh,” he confirms, nodding slightly. “I can lend it to you, as long as you promise to put some of your art in this house.” His tone is gentle, almost pleading, as if he’s offering me a piece of his heart.

Overwhelmed by his generosity and the depth of his support for my passions, I feel tears prickling at the corners of my eyes. “Why would you do that for me?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper, filled with wonder and gratitude.

Ethan’s expression softens, his eyes filled with a tender warmth that makes my heart skip a beat. “I don’t think we have space for a studio here, but I promise we’ll find a house where you’ll have your own art space,” he says, his words a vow, a promise of a future where my dreams are weaved with our love.

“You’re the best,” I murmur, leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss to his lips, pouring all of my love and appreciation into the gesture.

As we pull apart, Ethan’s hand comes up to cup my cheek, his thumb gently brushing away a stray tear. “No, that’s you,” he whispers, his voice filled with adoration. “I just like to see that smile and make your dreams come true.”

My heart swells with an overwhelming love for this man, and I find myself at a loss for words. Instead, I simply melt into his arms, burying my face in the crook of his neck as I hold him close, silently thanking the universe for bringing us together.

Epilogue

Lily

As I settle into my seat on the plane, the soft hum of the engine and the distant chatter of fellow passengers blend into a backdrop for my thoughts. The seat beside me is empty for now; Ethan’s off chatting with a flight attendant, no doubt charming them just as easily as he does everyone he meets.

He wants to make sure they bring what we need and I’ve no doubt he’s checking that there are plenty of gummy bears. I have plenty in my purse, but I love that he always makes sure that I have everything he thinks I need, and more.

We’re heading to the Maldives, a surreal thought, celebrating a year since our road trip—an adventure that turned out to be so much more than a journey across the country. It was a voyage into the depths of our pasts. During that trip not only did I figure out that my past doesn’t define me, but is there for me to learn. That my future isn’t defined and I also found my soulmate.

Ethan.

The reflection of the runway lights glimmers in my window, a myriad of tiny stars guiding us to our next adventure. It’s incredible to think about how far we’ve come, from two strangers who were trying to avoid life itself, to partners in every sense of the word. We’ve navigated the complexities of our lives together, finding strength in our vulnerabilities and comfort in our shared dreams.

In just a few weeks, we’ll be opening the doors to our very own art gallery-café, a dream that once felt as distant as the stars now reflected in my eyes.

Ethan has been supporting me and he’s my silent investor, though there’s not so much silence since he always has an opinion or two.

Living with Ethan has been an experience of constant discovery, each day peeling back another layer of who we are and also building our relationship. He loves me with a depth and sincerity that I’d never known possible. And I love him just the same.

It’s in the quiet moments, in the laughter that fills our home, and in the challenges we face hand in hand that I find the most profound expressions of his love.

As the plane begins to taxi down the runway, Ethan returns to his seat, his hand finding mine with an ease that speaks of familiarity. Our fingers intertwine, and I feel a sense of warmth and comfort wash over me. He leans in close, his breath tickling my ear as he whispers, “Ready for the next adventure?”

I turn to face him, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth. “I’m ready if you are,” I mumble, my eyes sparkling with mischief.

Ethan’s gaze darkens, a hint of desire flickering in their depths. “Always, but . . . I was thinking. What if we try sex on the plane?” His voice is low and husky, awakening a hunger within me.

I raise an eyebrow, biting my lower lip as I try to suppress a grin. “We’ve done that before,” I remind him, my tone teasing. “That’s what private jets are for.”

He leans in closer, his nose brushing against mine as his hand slides up my thigh. “But my dirty girl likes it when she’s doing it in public places. It excites her when she knows they can discover her,” he mumbles, his words dripping with innuendo.

I feel a flush creep up my neck, my heart racing at the thought of his hands on my body. But as tempting as his proposition is, I know we need to be a little more discreet. I place my hand on his chest, gently pushing him back as I shake my head. “Nope. However, I’ll let you play with my chest of toys when we get to the hotel,” I counter, my voice dropping to a seductive whisper.

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