Page 159 of Cross the Line
“I heard you and Matheo talking about it a while back. You were literally frothing at the mouth.” He’s so happy with himself that I want to bite at the perma-smirk on his lips.
“This is insane. Thank you,” I say, kissing his cheek as I pass him my present.
“What is it?” He turns the wrapped cube, painfully carefully, then opens the box to the rare Casio watch I outbid him on. He’s hunted it forever. When he mentioned the auction, I knew I had to get it.
“It was you,” he says, mock glare failing to smother that gleeful smile.
“Yep,” I chirp as he studies the face. “Best money I’ve ever spent. I mean, I was right there bidding next to you.”
“You’re so damn lucky I love you.” Fuck me, he’s all bashful andflushed as he puts the watch on his wrist and points out all its features. “It’s incredible to think that people would listen to music on this.”
“On that watch?” Fin tilts his wrist, dubious.
“Yep, on this watch.” He shows the clip-on with the headphone jack. “You plug your headphones in here, and this guy”—he taps the motion graphic under the time—“moves in time to the music.”
The goofy joy on his face is making my chest do all kinds of crazy shit.
“Thank you,” is all he says with a soft kiss to my shoulder while I give Fin her present.
I watch her raptly, unwrapping the paper. When she opens the box, I tap the bracelet on my wrist so that hers vibrates along with the one in my back pocket.
“Here, let me put it on you,” I say, threading the bracelet onto her wrist. Once I’ve pulled the rope tight, I give the gold disk in the middle a tap, so that my bracelet vibrates. “Anytime you miss us, you can tap your wrist, and we’ll know.”
“That’s… it’s… JJ, it’s so thoughtful.” Tears swim in her eyes as she laces our fingers together.
Using my other hand, I pull Eli’s bracelet from my back pocket and give it to him. He hasn’t put it on yet, and both mine and Fin’s bracelets are vibrating.
“It works both ways.” I tap Finley’s and he leans into us.
“It’s so freaking neat,” he smiles, holding his wrist beside ours.
While Fin’s is gold with a chocolate-colored rope, mine and Eli’s are brushed black steel with black rope and a black disk.
“I love it.” Finley squeezes my hand, lifting it to press a kiss to it.
The three of us sit marveling at our wrists with the occasional tap. I can see why my parents always give each other their presents in private. The moment is emotionally charged and, although it’s happy, it feels too intimate to share with anyone else.
“Okay, open mine now. Open,” Fin claps, “Open!”
Eli tears into his. His laugh dies the second he sees what’s inside.
“I heard Connie tell you to keep a gratitude journal. I know you were looking for one, so I made it for you.”
Fuck, I think she’s broken him.
Eli doesn’t speak or move for the longest moment. His eyes are glued to the navy cover that’s illustrated in metallic ink. A willow tree branches across the dark blue cardstock, and tangled in its branches are different colored Polaroid outlines with small drawings. His initials are carvedinto the thick tree trunk in block letters, and beneath it is a quote written in a sweet scroll.
I have to resist the urge to lean closer to read what it says. This is a space moment, and as much as my soul aches to reach out to him, I focus on opening my present instead.
The instant I set eyes on the deep green journal in my hands, my chest squeezes around my lungs. My heart skitters while I trace the gold book stack on the middle of the cover with a banner wrapped around it and my initials etched in it. I’m speechless, reading all my favorite quotes on book spreads and fluttering pages. But the words that make it impossible to hold back my emotions are hers. Framing my initials in her feminine scroll.
I found my soul between your pages. Eternal sunshine between your lines.
When my stinging stare finds Finely’s, she gives me a coy smile.
“It’s a reading journal. I know you’re still going to highlight, annotate, and tab, but you can keep track of it all in here.” Her hand rests over mine on the cover.
“It’s…” I swallow, corralling words. “Perfect.”
