The Road Trip

• Epilogue •

Two Years Later

It took four months and three days for Reese to finally call me her boyfriend.

Life had been the same—class, labs, reading, studying—and life had been infinitely better—Reese lying on her fabric couch with Lemon, sleeping in my bed, holding my hand when we walked down the street, meeting my friends and them loving each other. And when she wanted to be by herself, her texting me something that popped into her head made me the happiest.

When the day finally came, we'd been sitting at the coffee shop across from my apartment when one of her co-workers walked in. She introduced me to the older guy as her boyfriend so casually that she didn't even notice.

I'd suspected she had been considering me as one for a while, but she hadn't had an opportunity to use the word.

And hearing it come from her beautiful lips was the most stunning thing I'd ever heard that I almost fell out of my chair.

When I wrapped my arms around her at my kitchen sink afterward and pointed it out, she elbowed me in the ribs and told me, "Why do you sound so surprised?"

I only squeezed her tighter and told her I loved her.

And it still took me another eight months to convince her to move in with me.

So, when I started my third year of med school and clinical rotations, she finally packed up her tiny apartment—that I really didn't hate—and moved her gorgeous, non-OCD ass into my place.

In my fourth year, we learned my residency fate: Texas Children's in Houston. And after graduation, where Reese met my family, we started preparing to move.

My dad sat me down after and lectured me on never letting her go, not repeating his mistakes, that I needed to make time for her—even when I was busy, even when I hadn't slept in twenty-four hours, simply taking the time to ask her something about her day would matter more than I realized.

And I took it to heart.

"We can still fly, you know," I said as I placed her suitcase into the trunk next to where Reese was sitting. "There's no pilot strike this time. And all of our stuff, including your new car, is already waiting for us in Houston."

She crossed her arms and pulled an attempt at an angry face. Her features were blurred in the dark parking garage.

"Why won't you tell me our plans?" I pressed.

Reese sighed playfully and pulled me between her legs. "Why do you like working me up so much? You know I've been planning this for months, and I want to surprise you."

I buried my face in her neck and pressed my body weight into her. "You know why."

And while ninety-nine percent of the time it was because she was sexy when she got annoyed, that time it wasn't. I had a much bigger surprise burning a hole in my suitcase and not knowing our plans was stressing me the fuck out. How was I supposed to know when the best time to propose was when I didn't know where we were stopping?

"It's a miracle that after two years I'd still rather be sitting two feet away from you in a car for a week than flying in the comfort of a four hour flight."

I would never understand it myself—how I'd gotten so lucky that she was still putting up with me.

"Well, I am so damn lovable."

"Yeah?" she said, pressing her full lips into mine. "Why is that again? I can't seem to remember why I liked you so much in the first place."

"Because I force you to be organized?" I kissed her before she shook her head.