And Then We Fell Apart (18+)

chapter 30

"Morning," a gentle voice calls behind me the next day.

I couldn't stay asleep, so I spend the morning making breakfast to keep my mind occupied. It races with the memory of Sam telling me he wants me forever and ever, a memory that will forever be branded into my skin. It's a memory that I'll never trade for anything because despite it seeming rushed from the outside, we know what we have together. And if anything, it's been a long time coming.

I turn my attention from the stove for a second to see Sam, shirtless and sleepy while rubbing one of his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Morning," I smile, turning back to the pancakes on the stove. Then again, I don't think I've stopped smiling even once.

"Sleep okay?" he presses a tired kiss to my shoulder.

"Yeah, I just felt like getting up," I shrug. "I have coffee on if you want some."

"Wow. Is this the boyfriend treatment I've been missing out on this entire time?"

I laugh, then turn to watch him pour two cups of coffee. I like hearing him say boyfriend. "I tried to tell you. You wouldn't listen."

"Maybe if I'd known you were going be making me breakfast ..." his voice trails off.

"Funny. Where do you want to go today?"

He shrugs and sits at the table. "Not sure. We can drive around to see if we find anything good?"

"Okay," I nod, stacking the pancakes on a plate. I grab two forks and bring them to the table. "I was looking at one of those travel books over there, and I think there's a community park not far from here. I'm sure there's stuff on the way, too."

I ease into the chair beside him and pull my bare legs up to my chest, comfortably watching him through rose-colored hues. There was a time I questioned us, doubted us, but that feels silly now. To doubt something so real and authentic, something I know I'll never share with any other person.

He's the one. He's my one.

"Don't think I've forgotten about what we talked about last night," he says after taking a forkful into his mouth.

I raise my eyebrows and swallow down a sip of coffee. "Which part?"

He pauses mid-chew, his eyes deadlocked on mine. Slowly he swallows. "Just now I was talking about the part where you agreed to be the subject for my project."

"Hm," I nod.

Eyebrows furrow. "Do you want to talk about the other part?"

"What other part?" I play dumb.

He leans forward and with fingers wrapped around the seat of my chair, he pulls me close to him with ease. His fork clatters against the ceramic plate, followed by a lengthy silence. All the while, pretty eyes search mine for a sign. A sign of regret, maybe, but he could spend lifetimes searching and he'd never find it.

I just want to know if he feels the same. Reassurance, maybe. Just to make sure it wasn't a heat of the moment thing.

"Chandler, I meant what I said," he nearly whispers.

I wet my lips. "About the pictures?"

"Yeah, the pictures," he plays along.

A soft grin appears at my unwavering need to taunt him. He's always liked my sense of humor. We're close enough that space allows him to touch the side of my face, and suddenly I'm warm.

Sam is the ocean, the beach, the summer, and the sun.

He picks up his fork again to gather another forkful, but not for himself. He feeds them to me and puts the utensil back down on his plate.