Page 106 of Kissing is the Easy Part
I’m going to lose that privilege, dear Flora.
For me, this trip might be the last good memory we’ll have together. Every second is a countdown.
She tosses me a list of luxury hotels to give the illusion of choice. Out of these, only the Four Seasons doesn’t have a minimum age requirement to check in, so that’s her decision made.
“I can’t afford it.”Not even close.
“I have a big allowance. I mean,huge.Rolling around in high-thread-count sheets won’t scald your skin, Sean.”
“I don’t feel comfortable spending your money.”
“Strictly speaking, it’s my parents’ money.”
“Wow, now I feel so much better.”
She folds her arms. “Why’s it fine for me to eat at your place all the time, but such a big deal for you to accept favors from my family?”
“That’s different. My dad’s cooking anyway, with or without you. You don’t eat much.”
“Well, I’m staying at a five-star hotel anyway, with or without you. You don’t take up much space.”
“You make it sound so simple.”
“I’ll cover the hotel, and we can figure out the rest. Come on, let me spoil you.” She strokes my face, chuckling. “We’ll be together forever anyway.”
My stomach clenches. While I’m waiting for her to break up with me, there’s some secret bad news she isn’t aware of yet.
“Hey, I almost forgot,” she says. “I have your Christmas present ready.”
I pick up my backpack from the floor. “I brought yours too.”
“Can’t wait!” She grabs the gift Lindsey helped me wrap, tearing open the wrapper. Her hands freeze. It’s a puzzle, the cover showing a black-and-white photo of an old couple standing on rainy pavement, facing away from the camera. In the corner, there’s a corner of the Eiffel Tower. It’s an antique shot from the midcentury.
Flora sniffles, and her voice catches. “Thanks. You remember I told you how Jeremy didn’t let me join in his puzzle time. We’ll go to Paris together someday.” She pulls me close, wrapping her arms around me. I let myself briefly entertain the slim possibility of that happening.
When we break apart, Flora says, “Ready for yours?”
Her smile is bright as she pulls out a Louis Vuitton paper bag from her closet. I offended her when I had to return the duffel bag she gave me last Christmas, but I hide my disappointment this time. “Wow,” I say, keeping my tone light. “Louis Vuitton keeps coming back to haunt me.”
My fingers meet something soft. A scarf—thick, knitted wool, blue with a touch of gray. It’s full of holes.
“I knit it myself.” Flora swallows. “I restarted three times, but I finally accepted this is the best I can do. As my dad would say, don’t let perfect be the enemy of good. It’s supposed to be the color of your eyes. But they’re nicer, of course.”
I run my fingers through one of the holes, unable to utter a word.
“The holes were unintentional.” She fidgets, then snatches the scarf from me. “Gosh, what was I thinking? You’re too cute to be caught dead wearing this. It’s against every fashion rule in the universe. I’ll buy you something else.”
The lump in my throat slides down and my voice comes out scratchy. “I love it.”
This is exactly what I want. I lean in to hug her, trying to keep my emotions in check as I speak into her hair. “Thank you. Seriously. This is the best present I’ve ever gotten.”
“You like it more than Louis Vuitton?” She laughs. “Honestly, the best part of the gift is probably the paper bag.”
I bury my face in her neck, holding her as tightly as possible without hurting her. “I mean it. Thank you. I’m going to wear it every day in New York.”
“Oh no, you’re not. Don’t embarrass me like that at the Four Seasons.”
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