Page 122 of Bad Crush
“And you say we’re bad?” Ginny stands next to Heath, smiling at the scene in front of her.
“Yeah, yeah. Glad we all think this is funny. Oh damn, that’s gonna leave a mark,” I say and rub my ass. “Gonna need to see if Coach will let me borrow some padding next time.”
Reagan tries to make a pouty face, but she can’t keep from laughing. “I’m sorry.”
I get my pants up. Bending over hurts, but I’m distracted by Reagan’s cleavage because she’s still topless. She doesn’t seem bothered by it, but I pull off my shirt and then bring it down over her head to cover her boobs from prying eyes. Just in time, too, because Mav, Rhett, and Dakota make their way outside.
“Great. Wonderful. Let’s all enjoy this moment together.” Damn, it hurts to talk.
They’re laughing their asses off at the situation.
“Bet you wish you had a sex swing now,” Ginny says.
She pushes the guys back inside, leaving Reagan and me alone.
Reagan jumps to her feet, looking far more spry than I’m feeling capable of.
“Come on, big guy.” She takes both hands and helps me to my feet, leads me inside to her bed, and as soon as she starts kissing me again, the pain magically disappears.
Out of nowhere, she starts giggling again. Her brown eyes twinkle and soften. “I can’t believe that just happened. Are you okay, really?”
“Never been better.”
And that’s the damn truth.
Epilogue
Reagan
Two YearsLater
Today is the start of something big, Cancer.
The Valley Children’s Theater ends the summer session with a performance of Alice in Wonderland. Adam’s in the front row, clapping and smiling as the kids take their bows. I watch him from the wings, heart bursting with how proud he looks of them. He should be. With the amount of talking and obsessing I did over my first assistant director job, he probably knows these children and their struggles as well as I do.
When Director Martinez calls me to the stage, Adam gets to his feet with the rest of the audience. I wave, not quite as at home on stage in this role yet, but getting there. We all take one last bow before the curtain falls.
I have to see to the kids backstage, make sure they get changed and find their parents before I can meet him out front. He’s leaning against the wall with a dozen roses in hand.
“Happy Birthday, baby,” he says, kissing me and wrapping me in his arms. “And congratulations. They were great.”
“Thank you.” I lift the roses to my nose and inhale. “Aside from the white rabbit forgetting his watch backstage for his first scene, it went pretty smoothly.”
“Kid looked panicked there for a second,” Adam says with a smile. “I was ready to hand over my own watch, but he rolled with it. He did well. So did you.”
We head out of the theater and start the walk home, hand in hand.
“Now I can catch up on sleep, read a book or two, maybe reorganize the closet, get a manicure.” I lean into him. “I’m not leaving the house for a week.”
The theater is closed for two weeks before the fall session starts up, and I’m glad for the break to get in some late summer relaxing and tackling the things around our house that I’ve neglected over the past month.
“You could do that, or you could ignore all of your responsibilities completely and let me take you on vacation somewhere to celebrate.”
“We do not need to go on vacation to celebrate my birthday,” I insist. Last year he gave me a gift every hour, on the hour, all day long. I think it’s sweet how he wants to pamper me on my birthday as if he’s trying to make up for the fact the woman who brought me into this world doesn’t, but it’s totally unnecessary. Adam’s love shines through every single day in a million different small, seemingly insignificant ways that mean everything to me. And that’s all I could ever ask for.
“Not just for your birthday.” He fights off a grin.
“Oh my gosh.” I search his face. “Did you get your test results back?”
