Page 118 of Kismet

He reaches to his right, bringing Houston into view. He miraculously lays down right next to the kitten on Stone’s chest. “He’s curious, but he’s been good with her. Gentle. Only bopped her on the head once or twice.”

“When did you get her?” I’m going over timelines in my head, because these cats are not easy to get on the fly.

“Three days ago,” he replies, looking sheepish yet again.

“The breeders in the area have waitlists, Stone. I’ve checked. How the hell did you get her so fast?” I raise an eyebrow, pinning him with a look, and dying to hear what he has to say because I have a feeling I know, and it makes my heart swell.

“Okay, alright. You fucking caught me, Detective Danny. I may have been looking into getting her as a surprise for a while now. The timing just worked out well.”

My insides flutter as I take it all in. To the outside, it’s such a small thing… getting another cat. But to me, it’s so much more. She’sourcat. Time and time again, Stone has shown me his love for me.

He is absolutely everything I didn’t know I wanted… didn’t know Icouldwant. He iseverything. An overwhelming wave of emotion washes over me, and I don’t know how to handle it. Iknowhe loves me… he’s told me as much, butseeinghis love is a whole different thing. Every time he proves his love with his actions, I feel like I can’t breathe. My heart pounds and my knees feel weak. A telling lump forms in my throat, making it hard to swallow.

The suffocating need to tell him how fucking crazy I am about him, how stupidly in love I am with him, hits me hard, but I can’t tell him when I’m halfway across the world. I cannot tell him I love him for the first time ever while I’m here. Suddenly five weeks feels like a century. Too fucking long.

“She’s really cute,” I choke out. The backs of my eyes burn, and I blink a few times, trying to avoid my eyes welling up with tears. That would be ridiculous. “Thank you for getting Houston a buddy.” My voice is cracked, and I can tell by the look in his eyes he sees what he’s doing to me. “I fucking miss you, Stone. I wish I could throw my arms around you right now and give you a proper thank you.”

“I miss you too, baby.” His words are said barely above a whisper, and I get the sense that the overwhelming emotions I’m drowning in, he’s feeling too. Even countries apart, we’re still completely in sync with one another.

We end up talking for a while longer, until I eventually fall asleep. It almost felt like he was here with me.

Almost.

Chapter Forty-Four

Cash DeMarco

August—Lisbon, Portugal

Two months have nearly come and gone. Tonight is my last night in Europe before I head back to the states. This trip was life changing and exactly what I needed. I’ve been in Lisbon for three nights now, and I finished my manuscript last night. Hundreds upon hundreds of pages of my blood, sweat, and tears.

Writing “The End” on something I’ve poured every last ounce of myself into for the last year is surreal. This book cracked me wide open and gutted me. It hurt me as much as it healed me. I can’t even say how many times I considered throwing it in the trash and torching the whole thing. Walking away without a second glance.

Looking back at where I was when I first attempted to write this—broken down, depressed, lost. This book had several variations of it before I found my groove. After Stone left, I spent countless nights in that damn field. More nights than I’d even want to admit to him. Dozens of nights climbing into my car, no direction in mind, only to end up where I always wound up. Where my heart always led me.

Being there helped me feel close to him. Which is stupid to say. I’d lay in that field, staring up at the sky, cursing his name and begging for an explanation. That night sky saw endless tears. Endless broken promises to myself, saying that time would be the last time. I would finally forget about him. Finally move on with my life. Only to wind up right back there the very next night. This continuous cycle lasted for months. It was the only place I could find any sort of solace.

I was already living with Xander, but we hadn’t started dating yet. Upon moving in together, he knew I was fucked up. He knew there was shit swimming in my mind that I wouldn’t talk about that haunted me. He knew I left almost nightly. He asked about it for a while, but quickly realized I wasn’t giving anything away.

It was shortly after we started dating that I stopped frequenting the field. Not because I had gotten over it or because the gaping hole in my chest felt any better, but because I felt guilty. I spent my entire relationship with Xander longing for another man. Hundreds of nights lying next to one man, closing my eyes and pretending it was another. I’m ashamed of how often I would be inside Xander, only to come with Stone’s face behind my closed eyelids. We were together for years, and not one single day of our time together did I not miss Stone. I had to grieve for someone who wasn’t even dead. But that’s another thing… he left me withnothing. No note, no text, no goodbye. For all I knew, he very wellcouldhave been dead. The unknown tormented me.

Regardless, it wasn’t fair to Xander. He never said anything, but I think he knew my heart wasn’t there. Knew my soul belonged to someone else. You could see it in his eyes when he’d try to talk about feelings and I’d zone out. I’m honestly surprised he stayed with me as long as he did. I think it was a convenience thing more than anything, though. We lived together, and we were friends. Hanging out with each other wasn’t unbearable. Still… four and a half years is a long fucking time to stay with someone you see no future with.

Fuck, I’m a dick.

I’d like to think it all worked out for the better, though. He and I don’t talk at all anymore. We haven’t since I moved to Texas. But he does still talk to Kylie on occasion, and she says that he’s in a relationship and seems happy, so that’s good.

I’m staying in tonight, packing and getting everything ready for the airport. My flight is at four in the morning, so I don’t anticipate getting much sleep. My body is thrumming with excitement, knowing that I’m so close to seeing Stone, and Houston, and meeting little wrinkly Whitney.

I still can’t believe he bought us a fucking cat. A huge array of emotions is swimming around my stomach tonight, and part of it is I’m really homesick. It feels like a huge part of myself is missing, and there’s a deep ache in my chest because of it. I can’t wait to see him. Breathe him in. Touch him.Tell him I’m in love with him.I refuse to wait any longer to tell him how I feel.

I want this with him. Forever. I should’ve told him months ago, but something was keeping me quiet. Maybe finishing this book set me free. Finally letting me move on from the past. Subconsciously, I think it was holding me back. Anchoring me to the pain from before. And getting it all out and finishing it gave a piece of me back. Gave me the ability to accept and give the love I need.

My phone dings from the nightstand, pulling me out of my thoughts. Grabbing and flipping it over, a goofy, completely involuntary grin splits on my face. It’s a text from Stone with a picture of him and the cats lying in bed with the caption‘Missing you. We love you.’I sit down on the corner of the bed, staring at the picture and unable to look away. I don’t even notice I’m crying until the tears fall onto my screen and my vision goes blurry.

Whoever said home isn’t a place, it’s a feeling, is absolutely fucking correct.

He’s my home.

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