Page 147 of The One
He laughed. “She said that?”
“In a roundabout way.”
He was still laughing. “Perfect. We’ll start trying tonight.”
My gasp ended in laughter. “The thing is, you’re serious.”
“I’ve never been more serious in my life.”
I came to a stop at the red light. “Maybe we could wait a few weeks?” The smile owned my entire face. “Or say, a year? Or even two? We just got each other back. I want to enjoy this time before we have to share each other with a little one who is going to take up every second of us.”
“Fair.”
I tapped the steering wheel. “Note to self: double up on my birth control when I get home.”
“I haven’t even touched you yet.”
“But when you do, I just have this strange feeling you’re going to get me pregnant.”
“That’s some powerful shit right there.”
I chewed my lip. “For some people, yes. But not for Rhett Cole.”
He went silent for a second. “Lainey, I want to talk to your parents. I think it’s important that they not only hear it from you, but they also hear it from me.”
My eyes fluttered closed, and I silently nodded. “I think that’s a really good idea.”
FORTY-SEVEN
Rhett
Present Day
Lainey turned toward me while we sat beside each other on the beach, a blanket beneath us that I’d spread over the sand, a cooler behind us that we’d just finished picking through. Plastic flutes, full of champagne, in our hands.
“Why does this spot look so familiar?” she asked.
It was sunset, and the warmth of the sky was reflecting over her glowing skin.
She was even more gorgeous now than the day we’d sat here all those years ago.
I loosened my grip from her shoulders and moved my fingers to her face. “Because we’ve been in this exact spot before.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Wait …”
“You remember. I know you do.”
She glanced toward the water and pointed. “Pen was right over there with Timothy.” She paused. “And I told you I didn’t want to spend the day at the beach.” She gazed back at me. “So,we left and went to your house … and that was when I lost my virginity to you.”
“Yes.”
She snuggled back in, pressing her cheek into my neck. “That feels like a million lifetimes ago.” She took a sip.
“Because it was.”
She rubbed her hand over my thigh, the sound of the waves a language we enjoyed listening to until she said, “I talked to my parents. They told me all about your visit.”
I put my lips on her forehead and breathed her in. But when I exhaled, it was relief that I felt on a level I hadn’t experienced in a long time. If ever. “I’ve waited a decade and a half to talk to them.”
