Page 110 of Lake
He was so adorable. I really loved that about him.
I wasn’t even going to talk about how my perfect imaginary boyfriend— who hadn’t been around in a while, just to let you know— was nothing like Lake. And maybe that was what made Lake so perfect for me.
“Okay, okay. Don’t have a cow, dude.”
I retrieved the package that I had gotten a few days ago. I had opened the shipping box, but once I saw the shiny silver paper with little nutcrackers all over it, I stopped. I had been a good girl. That wasn’t to say that I kept looking at it and picking it up. I was afraid to shake it in case it was breakable. Normally, I would have given it a few firm gropes, but whatever it was happened to be inside of another box.
Yeah, he sent me a box inside of a box. I just hoped that there wasn’tanotherbox in there because that would just have to be it.
So basically, I had no clue what was underneath that wrapping paper.
Teasingly, I slid my finger under the tape that held the seam together in the back. My eyes on the screen and a smile twitched on my lips as I watched him bounce with excitement. Or nervousness, I wasn’t sure.
“You’re doing that on purpose.”
“Yep,” I replied popping theP.
“You hate me.”
“No, I don’t. I lo-like you very much, actually.”
Oh, wow. Did I almost say I loved him?
Yeah, I did and that maybe freaked me out a little. Not because I didn’t think it was real, even though I would have said it jokingly then. As I was hit with the huge realization that I did love the cute, awkward, and sexy man, I began to tear at the paper in hopes of creating a distraction. My eyes were now downcast, focused on the gift that I was clueless about taking up my entire lap. I couldn’t look up and I was praying like hell that he didn’t notice my slip up.
I pulled the flaps of the box back once I had the wrapping paper free and now scattered in pieces all over my bed.
“Tissue paper, really? You’re killin’ me, dude. I just want to know what it is.” I laughed as I dug around, pushing the crumpled, thin paper to the side as much as possible.
My fingers brushed up against something cold and hard.
Then I pulled out a helmet.
A black helmet with a dark purple rose— stem and thorns and all— on the side.
I was speechless.
“Beautiful, sweet, and a little bit prickly,” he said a little too tenderly to be talking about the design on the helmet.
“Lake,” I said with a sigh. “You know this is a helmet, right?”
“Yeah.” He looked at me like I was the crazy one.
“For a motorcycle.”
“Of course.”
“Lake, you know that I don’t even own a motorcycle, right? And I’ve only ever been on one once before.”
He looked away from the camera almost like he was second-guessing his gift. Which wasn’t what I wanted.
“You know this is a weird-ass gift, right?”
“Yeah, I just—”
“I really fucking love it!” I screamed with way too much excitement. And not the fake kind.
He smiled and I saw his body visibly relax.
