Page 109 of Silver Linings
I start to grind down on him, rocking my hips back and forth, drawing a growl from his mouth.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Summer.”
“Hopefully, one of us finishes,” I quip, shoving my fingers into his thick chocolate strands and giving them a rough tug.
I’ve just shoved my hands up under the hem of his hoodie when the bell to the front door dings, alerting me to customers.
I pop up off his lap and look down at the noticeable bulge with a smirk. “Might want to wait a moment before coming downstairs.”
I can hear the newcomers chatting excitedly to each other about a new thriller they’ve been hunting for. I lean down and give my boyfriend one last kiss before I make my way downstairs. This place was the first thing I ever committed to, the first major decision I made for myself that felt right.
It was home.
Halfway down the stairs, I glance back at Hendrix and realize I havetwohomes now.
I hit the landing and smile at the group of shoppers. “Hey guys! Welcome to Silver Linings Bookshop. Let me know if you need anything.”
epilogue
. . .
One Year Later—
“The only reason you got me out of bed this early on theLord’s Dayis because you bribed me with donuts,” I grumble around a mouthful of fluffy, maple bacon greatness.
“Suddenly religious?” Hendrix chuckles.
“When you interrupt averygood dream to insist we go on a walk at ungodly hours, yes.” This time, I reach into the box from Mimi’s and pull out a white chocolate glazed with matcha cream filling. I take atoobig bite and moan at the sweet, slightly herbal flavor.
“A very good dream, huh?” Hendrix leans down, whispering in my ear. “What was I doing to you in this dream?”
“Who says you were even there?” I tease and then jump when he pinches my side.
I dart out of his grasp before he can do it again, but he chases after me, grabbing me by the waist and lifting me in the air. “Hey! Donuts! Precious cargo here. Have some respect,” I would slap at his arms, but my hands are currently occupied by fried dough.
Hendrix slowly settles me onto the ground, chuckling in my ear in a way that still makes my body flush with heat, even a year later. He hasn’t let go of me yet; instead, he grips me tighter, burying his face into the crook of my neck and placing a gentle kiss there.
“So soft and warm,” he sighs into me.
“You’re the one who insisted we go on a walk on the coldest day of the week,” I say, snuggling back into him. “Even Central Park is empty.”
We arrived at the park twenty minutes ago after we took the train uptown to pick up Mimi’s and coffee. It’s become a monthly ritual whenever I take a Sunday off from the store, and it’s one of my favorite things we do together. It’s like we’re reliving our first date over and over.
The day I found Hendrix at Silver Linings, we spent so much time talking long into the evening, nothing holding us back. It’s the closest I’ve ever felt to someone in my life. And when we FaceTimed with Laurel to check in on her, she practically launched out of her hospital bed in excitement. Since then, she and I have become thick as thieves, much to Hendrix’s dismay.
There’s something to be said for finding your person, the one who compliments your life, who makes everything about it fuller and brighter. I used to never think this kind of love was possible for me, too scarred from my past to consider it. I never believed I deserved it, not until Hendrix showed me his love didn’t have to be earned—that it was freely given unconditionally. Understanding that has created a domino effect of sorts, spilling over into all my other relationships.
“Yeah, but if it was warm, you wouldn’t let me hold you like I am now,” Hendrix says, pulling me out of my internal musing.
He’s not wrong. I hate the heat; the last thing I want is to cuddle when it’s ninety-five degrees out. Air conditioningremains, to this day, the world’s greatest achievement, and you can’t convince me otherwise.
We walk the winding path through The Rambles, a densely wooded area within the park, spotting various birds as we walk south. By the time we exit, the sun has peeked out from behind the clouds, and the light layer of frost over all the grass has melted. We spot a few tourists on pedi-cab rides, some early morning runners, but it’s otherwise still pretty empty for a weekend morning.
We’re looping around the southern half of the park when Hendrix stops me. “Why don’t we sit down so you can finish your donuts?”
“This is why I love you.” I plop down on the bench he ushers me toward, facing a small pond and bridge with skyscrapers peeking over the treetops at our backs, setting the box of confections in my lap and flipping open the lid.
“Maybe one day, you’ll look at me the way you look at a box of donuts.” He sounds exasperated, but when I look up, he’s smiling at me fondly.
