Ava knows who Jimmy O'Brien is - her first love and soulmate. Forced to spend time apart, Ava and Jim deal with their trust issues and insecurities.
When the lovers finally reunite and resolve to fight for each other, their fragile happiness is put...
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I started the morning of my twentieth birthday by opening my journal and writing down what I hoped to accomplish this year. Finishing my second book and editing the first, getting a job, and excelling in my studies were the main items on the list. A year ago, I also wanted to meet someone. And now I had Jim, whose text was already there when I woke up.
In the picture he attached, Jim was standing in front of the clerestory window of his condo, shirtless, with a coffee mug in his hand and a smile on his face. I grinned, reading the caption.
Jim: Happy Birthday to the girl I'm honored to love and call mine. Can't wait to see you and kiss you.
P.S. This could be your view every morning. Love, Your sugar rockstar.
I wasn't sure which view he referred to—his sculpted chest or the cityscape behind the window, but I wouldn't mind waking up to either.
I typed the reply.
Me: I love both views. Thank you, baby.
Knowing Dad was most likely waiting for me, I took a quick shower, did my hair and makeup, and put on a white sundress. Jim didn't tell me what he planned, but if we ate on a terrace, the clothes I chose would be a good fit.
I grabbed a small purse and went downstairs. Dad was in the kitchen, and as soon as he heard my footsteps, he spun around and stared at me.
"Gasp. Is she the same tiny baby I held in my arms twenty years ago? There must be a mistake."
Dad's arms wrapped me in a tight hug. Moisture filled my eyes, and I blinked several times not to let it spill onto my cheeks.
"Happy Birthday, Pumpkin," he said. "And please, tell your boyfriend to stop doing what he's doing. You'll be his financial ruin."
I took a step back. "Thank you. And what do you mean?"
Dad pointed a hand toward the living room. "See for yourself."
Buckets of roses sat on every surface, turning the room into a garden. I plucked a small envelope from the biggest bouquet and pulled out a small card.
Happy birthday, baby. I love you. See you at 12 sharp. Hope YHLF is ready for MSOD.
I stared at the abbreviation, but then realization hit me.
Hope your hot little furnace is ready for my sword of desire was what Jim meant. My cheeks heated and surely looked as red as the roses.
Dad quirked an eyebrow. "Did Hendrix sext you in a card, Pumpkin? Makes me grateful I didn't read it."
"Oh my God." I started to shove the card into my pocket, forgetting that the dress didn't have any, and the piece of carton fell to the floor. I scooped it up and put it back into the envelope. "Well, I'll be going," I said to Dad. See you in the evening." Not awkward at all, Ava.
