Page 105 of Hung Up
“You did all this?”
I nod. “I wanted to do something nice for your birthday.”
“Sweetheart, you didn’t have to do this.”
“I know, but I wanted to.” I tap the box that rests between us. “Open it.”
He chuckles, raising a brow. “You don’t want me to wait until later?”
“Absolutely not. I hate waiting for people to open presents I gave them.” He continues to stare at me with an amused expression, which causes me to groan. “Come on, Pretty Boy. Open your damn birthday present.”
Jesse grabs the box and slides it toward him, and I pull out a stool to sit down as I watch him. He tucks his pointer finger under the edge of the crease and slowly glides his finger along the tape, and I start drumming my fingers on the counter in my impatience. It’s like he’s doing this on purpose, trying to piss me off.
“Jesse, if you want any birthday sex from me tonight, that better be opened in the next ten seconds.”
His laugh echoes throughout the room, but he tears the package open, getting the wrapping paper off in five seconds flat. It’s a large, plain white box, and I find myself biting my lip with sudden nervousness. I’ve been scratching my head for weeks trying to figure out what to get him for his birthday. He’s a very basic man who doesn’t want much, because whatever he wants, he already has. I ran a few ideas by Stevie, but even she agreed they weren’t very great ideas.
Until one day, I was going through a box of mine, and an idea hit me.
I just hope he likes it as much as I think he will.
Jesse uses scissors to cut the tape that keeps the lid on the box before he gingerly slides the lid off the top. Of course I had to cover it with some tissue paper and bubble wrap, but I’m suddenly wishing I hadn’t because I swear this wait and anticipation is harder for me than it is for him. I’ve never met a person who didn’t love to rip into presents before.
But once he pulls back the tissue paper, I release a shaky breath of relief as tears instantly pool in his eyes.
I had kept the petals of all the flowers he’d ever gotten me and dried them out, and I obviously kept every single note he had ever written to me. That includes every one I received after the championships, too. I was able to find a very large glass frame to put them in, placing the dried flower petals behind the notes that had corresponded with them.
“Do you like it?” My voice is softer than I intended, unable to keep that slight tremble of doubt out of my voice.
“Like it?” He looks up at me with tears streaming down his cheeks, and the sight causes my heart to clench. “Sweetheart, I love it.”
He walks around the island and pulls me into his arms, squeezing me so tightly that it becomes hard to breathe—but Idon’t really care. This was the exact reaction that I had been hoping for.
When we pull away, I cup his cheeks in my hands, brushing the tears off his face. He presses his lips against my palm, taking a deep breath as he tries to get his emotions under control. Reaching for my hands, he pulls them away and holds mine between his.
“I have something to show you, too, actually.”
“But it’s not my birthday.”
He laughs softly and starts to drag me down the hallway. “Just come.”
We step into his office—why he has an office, I’m still not entirely sure—and walk around his desk where a bunch of papers are rolled up. He drops my hand and unfolds them, and it becomes evident they’re house plans.
“I’ve decided to renovate the house,” he informs me, grabbing some random items from his desk to rest on the corners to stop the paper from rolling in on itself. “I’m going to bust this wall down and expand the bedroom to make a bigger closet. I want to move the laundry into the closet so we no longer have to go up and down a flight of stairs. I’m thinking about getting rid of this closet here in the guest room down the hall to make the room bigger. Maybe put in a built-in bookcase and a reading nook in the bay window.”
He looks at me, so I say, “It sounds wonderful. What’s the bookcase for?”
“You.” My eyes widen. “I was thinking this could be your office.”
“Jesse, what are you saying?”
“I’m saying that I want you to move in with me. Permanently.” My mouth parts slightly, completely caught by surprise. “Like, sell your apartment in San Francisco, in case permanently wasn’t clear enough.”
To say that Jesse Hayes turned my world upside down in the best way possible is putting it lightly. When we met, I had such a twisted and horrible outlook on love. I never wanted to give another person the opportunity to hurt me again, so I had completely shut myself off from the idea. I also had such an awful outlook on myself, thinking that I didn’t deserve the kind of love that he so badly wanted to give me and that I wasn’t worth the time or effort. But he never gave up, continued to show me day after day that he wanted me and that I was worth someone’s time and effort and deserved to be loved fully and without limitations.
Sometimes I don’t feel like I deserve him, but it’s something that I strive to earn every single day.
And he’s more than earned mine.
