She doesn’t have to elaborate or go on because I understand exactly what she’s telling me.
I blow out a deep breath and relief flushes through me that she feels the same way about me as I feel about her. I keep my mouth shut, nod my head, and let my silence tell her I understand.
She runs her fingers down my shirt, pausing at each button as she undoes it, bending and kissing each bare spot along the way. Her fingers skim my bare chest as her lips make their way back up to mine. She attacks my mouth as if taking prisoners and kisses me until they’ve been captured. She’s breathless and I’m panting, but I want to proceed with caution. I no longer want to throw her on the bed and f**k her. I’m not sure what prompted the tears and loving confession, and I want to know, but she doesn’t seem to want to tell me right now.
Her hands go to my waist and her mouth goes back to my chest, where she starts placing hot, open-mouthed kisses on her way down my stomach.
I pull her back up to my face, feeling like I really want to know. I look in her now brown eyes, but they are focused on my lips.
Teetering between wanting to know and not wanting to know, I just ask, “Dahlia, when you opened the lyrics you seemed sad. Why? Does it have something to do with him?”
Sighing, she inhales a deep breath and tells me, “No. That concert is the last concert I ever went to with my dad. It was the last time I ever went to The Greek.” She cups my cheeks as she continues, “I wasn’t sad when I opened it, I was happy. Those were tears of joy because you’ve given me back a memory just as so many were taken away.”
Now I’m the one swallowing back my emotions, trying to keep it together. I feel my body start to tremble, overflowing with the amount of love I feel for this girl. She’s had so much sadness in her life. As I gently pick her up and carry her to the bed, I feel so lucky that I’m the one who gets to give her her happily ever after.
I lay her down and start kissing her stomach. She sits up on her elbows and points to the nightstand. “You promised to explain,” she says and I laugh.
“Explain what?” I ask, my mind still reeling from her confessions.
“Your birthday wishes, silly.”
“Ahh, my birthday wishes for you,” I say smiling at her beauty and wanting to make her happy. I look at her, kiss her, then move to take a piece of ice out of the cup and let it melt on my tongue.
“What are you doing?”
“Dahlia, I’m granting you three birthday wishes.
“You can’t grant me wishes if I haven’t told you what I wish for, silly, and there is only one wish allowed per birthday you know.”
“Beautiful girl, you should know by now, I have my own set of rules for almost everything and birthday wishes are no exception.”
Running her fingers through my hair, she says, “So tell me genie, what would those rules be?”
“Well since you asked, I’m more than happy to tell. In my world, when I get to be the genie, as you called me, I get to come up with and deliver the wishes.”
She giggles that sound I love so much. She starts to squeal as I take another piece of ice in my mouth and slide my cold tongue down her body letting the ice cube dance in and out of my mouth along the way. I pause and look up at her as she watches me. “And this is wish number one.”
A low purring sound escapes her mouth. “Oh God River, I love your rules.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
I WAS BORN TO LOVE HER
I was born to love her
Everything about her
She is the one I need
The one I have waited for
She is everything.
River’s POV
February 2012 - 3 months later…
Shaking my head, I’m kicking myself for not ordering the necklace earlier. I pace the room with the phone to my ear. Mikimoto’s says the package should have been delivered to Xander’s house yesterday, and if the dick would answer his phone this morning, I’d know. I’m on hold with Federal Express, waiting for them to check the signature delivery log when the doorbell rings.
Making my way to the door isn’t easy. I just smile while stepping over all the boxes Dahlia still hasn’t unpacked since officially moving in. Thank God she only brought what she thought we needed and left the rest at Grace’s house or else there would be no where to walk. She’s in the office that we setup for her downstairs. She’s working on getting her new business off the ground.
We’ve managed to furnish the entire house and hire a housekeeper, but the unpacking is another story. For some reason, we never seem to find the time to just do it.
It doesn’t really matter anyway. Since neither of us cooks, we don’t need to unpack the boxes labeled kitchen. We always order out, go out, or eat grilled cheese.
I don’t give a shit about any of the domestic supposed-to-dos anyway because I got my girl, and we’re living life sweet and easy.
Opening the door, my ass**le brother is standing there grinning. He pushes me aside as he strides into the living room, sitting his ass on the couch. “Why have you called me three times since I got in my car this morning?”
“If you’d answer your f**king phone you’d know, dickhead.”
He flops his head back on the couch and spreads his arms over the back like he owns the place. “Since I was on my way here, I didn’t see the purpose in wasting my breath,” he says. Then reaching into the inside pocket of his leather jacket, he adds, “Dickhead.”
Pulling out the black satin box with the white letters M I K I M O T O emblazoned across the top, he smirks, “You looking for this, Loverboy?”Turning my head toward the stairs to make sure Dahlia isn’t coming, I quickly head over to him. “You couldn’t have let me know it came, assface?”
“Assface? Hmmm . . . Maybe I should have just kept it and given it to the first pretty face I saw, tonight. Since it’s Valentine’s Day, I’m sure a gem like this would guarantee I score.”
Tucking the box away in one the many partially opened containers blocking the pathways in and out of the living space, I walk over to sit at the counter. Dahlia insisted the movers not block the view with any of the boxes, so instead, we’re tripping over whatever items she unpacks but doesn’t put away every time we come in the room.
Standing up, Xander heads to the kitchen. “Dude, you live with one messy chick.”
Shrugging my shoulders at him, I say, “Some of us have more important shit to do than keep house.”
“But really, you have a housekeeper. She can’t do it?”
“Dahlia wants to do it herself. She’ll get around to finishing the unpacking Xander, don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”
Smirking, he pours himself a cup of coffee. “Whatever, better you than me. This mess would drive me f**king insane.” Then raising his coffee mug, he asks “Coffee?”
Chuckling and nodding my head, I say, “Xander, leaving the mail on the counter drives you nuts.”
“Speaking of nuts, you were worried the necklace wouldn’t get here. Weren’t you?”
I swivel my chair as he walks back into the room and tap my fingers on the counter. “Not worried. Concerned.”
“Well maybe next time you’ll order your girl’s gift sooner,” he laughs, taking his jacket off and putting it on the back of the stool.
I nod my head in agreement as he sits next to me, handing me one of the cups of coffee. “So the record contract . . .” he starts to say.
Dropping my foot to the floor, I twirl my seat around to face him. “Xander, I don’t want to argue about the label’s shitty stipulations right now.”
“Look bro, I know your mind is elsewhere,” he says, tapping on his phone’s screen and pushing it in front of me. “But we need to get this shit straightened out and sign a contract or we won’t have a deal.”
Glancing at his phone, he’s showing me an email listing the changes to our original unsigned contract. I’ve seen these at least three times, so I roll my eyes.
“Xander, come on. You know the label doesn’t want to negotiate, they just want us to agree before we can move forward and cut the damn album.”
Also listed in the email are the promotional requirements of the band. I haven’t seen these before.
“This touring stipulation is bullshit,” I say to Xander, standing up and continuing to read the new requirements. “Everyone knows the only reason a label asks a band to tour for nine months is because they don’t believe an album can make it on it’s own.”
“You need to quit being a pu**y and get over it, River,” he says as walks over to refill his coffee.
Throwing his phone on the couch, I say, “I don’t need to quit being anything, Xander.”
“Look River, just bring her with you,” he says, setting his cup down on the counter.
I throw myself on the couch and shake my head. “That’s not it,” I say, shoving my boots on the glass coffee table. “I don’t want to be on the road that long. I hate that life. Living on a bus, people in my face all day long, eating shitty food, and drinking every night, never being alone.” I finally admit to him my biggest reasons for not wanting to sign.
“Let me see what I can do,” he says, maybe finally resigned to the fact that I’m not going to sign that contract.
“So, did you tell her yet?” I bolt straight up in reaction to his question. He knows better than to talk about this when Dahlia is in the house.
“No, and I told you I’m not going to.”
“Not a smart idea. What if Bell figures it out and tells Dahlia?”
“Bell’s not going to figure it out. You only did because I told you. I asked you not to bring it up again, and I meant it.”
“River, I understand your need to always protect women more than you think I do, but I think you’re making a mistake here. If she finds out, she’s going to be really pissed off at you.
“I don’t have a need to protect women, Xander. I just don’t see the purpose in unnecessarily hurting someone’s feelings.”
“Yeah yeah, I get it. You’ve always wanted a chick you could talk to, not just f**k around with. That's why you hardly ever went out with someone more than once. I told you I get you, and I do. Really. But now you found an amazing girl, and you have it all, so don’t f**k it up. That's all I’m gonna say about it. You know I got your back no matter what.”
As I hear footsteps coming up the stairs, I quickly throw Xander a shut-the-fuck-up look. I turn my head just in time to get a look at my hot girl coming up the stairs.
“Hey there beautiful.”
“Hey there beautiful yourself,” she says in a flirty tone.
Looking over to Xander, she smiles at him. She has the most awesome smile. “Xander,” she flatly says.
“Muse,” he says just as flatly.
“Did you park your Mercedes out front? Because if you did, I hope it doesn’t get stolen while your slumming,” she says to him, barely able to contain her laughter, and then they both start laughing.
They have actually become friends since she moved in three weeks ago. It took a while, but one drunken night and many funny stories later told about USC, they actually decided they liked each other. In fact, she gets along great with my whole family. She goes out to lunch with my mom and sister at least once a week. My mom even convinced her buy a lot of the stuff we have in the house. Since moving in, we’ve actually bought everything in here together. It’s like I bought this house for us. It fits us perfectly; we both love it and we both love living here together.
Dahlia enjoys the view and photographs it all the time. We even planted wildflowers together before she moved in. They bloomed last week, and the look in her eyes when she saw the flowers made me want to f**k her right there in the garden. We run the trails every morning and whoever wins gets to soap the other one down. She thinks she wins every time. God, I love her.