CHAPTER 19 THE SPACE BETWEEN HEARTBEATS
Kenneth breathes hard above me, his chest heaving, hands relaxing on my chest as he slows his movements down, then stops altogether.
He uncurls his fingers slowly, and I watch as his eyes flutter when they connect with mine again.
And then he leans in, pressing his soft lips against my skin, his warm breath tickling my neck.
It makes a shiver of delight run down my spine.
“Happy birthday,” Kenneth murmurs against my ear. “Twenty-seven years of blessing everyone by existing. I hope you’ll keep blessing me, too.”
I smile widely. “You’re never this sweet in the morning.”
“Consider it your birthday present.”
My smile turns into a pout. “But I didn’t get to eat my cake this morning.”
“I bought you a cake—”
“I don’t want that cake, Ken.” I grin, palming his ass and squeezing. “I want this one.”
Kenneth laughs, his whole body shaking with it. “Maybe later. If you follow directions.”
“Oh?” I chuckle. “What’s your elaborate plan for today?”
“You’ll just have to wait and see.” He shrugs. “But we’re cleaning up first.”
“Fine.” I pout, but he just shakes his head with a grin.
He lifts himself up on his knees, causing me to pull out of him, and gets off the bed.
A moment later, he returns with a wet rag, which he hands to me so I can clean up.
I smile as he walks back into the bathroom and closes the door, sighing and closing my eyes at the feeling of my body melting into the bed.
It’s been a long time since I’ve woken up to birthday sex.
Now that I think about it, I don’t actually think it’s ever happened.
After this, I’m going to want it every year. Damn.
A few minutes go by before I hear the shower running, and Ken opens the door with a smile, crooking his finger at me, so I go to him.
I grin back at him, getting up and throwing the rag in the hamper before getting in the shower with him.
The water is hotter than I usually like, but he grabs my wrist and pulls me under the spray with him.
The way he’s looking at me makes me forget about how burning hot it feels against my skin; instead, I focus on how happy he looks.
The way his eyes sparkle as he gazes into my eyes, the way his hand trails up my arm, and then to the back of my neck, pulling me into him.
Our lips meet gently, hardly a whisper, and though it’s barely a ripple in the water of a placid lake, it feels like a giant wave that’s bound to drown me.
The feeling of his body against mine as he deepens the kiss has me unraveling with each and every stroke of his tongue, and not in a physical way.
It’s my heart—he’s gripped it in his fist and isn’t letting go.
It feels like my chest is getting crushed with the magnitude of my love for him, and I can’t help but beg god, the universe, and any deity that exists to please never let him walk out of my life. Not him. Never him.
My fingers grip the strands of his hair tightly, my other arm wrapping around him and pressing him even closer to me.
His hands cup my face roughly as he devours my mouth, and I feel light-headed with all the emotions swirling through me.
It’s overwhelming, the way he makes me, and I’m left reeling when he finally pulls away.
He doesn’t go far, though, just grabs the shampoo and pours some onto his hand, then makes suds.
I turn around dutifully, knowing this is what he wants, and he massages my scalp as he washes my hair.
I hum happily, loving the way his fingers flex against my scalp, and then he pushes me under the water spray so I can rinse it off.
I turn around just in time to see him waiting for me, looking over his shoulder with a smile.
I return the gesture, washing his hair, then grabbing the body wash and soaping the rest of him up.
He takes longer to rinse off, and I take advantage of that time so I can finish cleaning myself too.
Once we’re all done, we dry ourselves thoroughly and exit the bathroom.
I watch as he goes to his side of the bed and grabs a bag, dumping the contents onto the bed.
He produces two pairs of matching pajamas, and I grin.
“Is that your plan for today?” I ask him, my grin not wavering for a second. It feels like I can’t stop smiling; I’m so fucking happy. That he’s here. That he’s in my life. That I can call him mine.
“I figured we can stay in today.” Kenneth shrugs. “Hang out in our pajamas, watch movies, and order takeout.”
“Sounds perfect,” I admit. “I’m too old to party anyway.”
Ken laughs. “But I figured we’d do things a little differently than what you’re probably used to.”
“How’s that?” I ask, raising an eyebrow, and he throws my pajamas to me. I catch them, putting them on, while he does the same.
“I’d like to start a new tradition.” He shrugs sheepishly, as if doubting I’d be up for it. Doesn’t he know I’d do anything he asked of me? “Something my mom and I have always done.”
I gesture for him to continue, and when he doesn’t, I add, “Well, go on, Kenny. The suspense is killing me.”
Kenneth smirks. “Fine.” His cheeks pinken slightly, and then he’s walking past me and out of the room.
I frown, following after him, just to find him standing at his kitchen island with a black folder in his hand.
He sets it on the counter and looks at me with a small smile.
“The tradition is—cake for breakfast and then opening your present right after.”
My eyebrows rise. “You eat cake for breakfast on your birthday?”
“Duh.” He grins. “It gets the best part out of the way, and then we can relax the rest of the day.”
I smirk and shake my head. “That does sound like you, actually.”
“You in?”
“Yes, Kenny.” I sigh dramatically. “Sing me happy birthday and feed me cake.”
He grins, then tells me to turn around. I do so dutifully, closing my eyes for good measure, even though I’m not facing him.
There’s some rummaging in the background.
The opening of the fridge, drawers, then the spark of a lighter.
The fact that he’s doing all of this for me makes me smile.
That he got me a cake in the first place, that he’s singing me happy birthday.
“Turn around,” Kenneth says softly, and I exhale roughly, doing as he says.
What I find is something straight out of my dreams. He’s standing with his hand outstretched, and I go to him, taking it.
There’s a chocolate cake on the counter right in front of us—my favorite.
It says ‘Happy Birthday, Connie Love’, with a border of chocolate-covered strawberries and frosting at the bottom.
My eyes sting as I blink rapidly, and he turns me towards him and starts singing Happy Birthday—loudly and with feeling.
And it hits me. This is the only way one should be celebrated.
I watch his fingers dip into the frosting, and then he’s smearing it onto my nose and lips before I can think to back up.
He belts out the last ‘happy birthday to you,’ throwing his head back and laughing, and I can’t help but join in, then grab his waist and drag him towards me.
He grips my face tightly and licks the frosting off my nose, making me squirm and giggle, and then kisses the frosting from my lips.
I’m not sure how long we stand in the kitchen making out, but it’s long enough that my legs feel weak and my heart is threatening to beat out of my chest. Kenneth pulls away first, then looks at the cake with wide eyes.
“Quick!” he groans, twisting my body towards the cake. The candles are melting, the wax dripping down them, and Kenneth looks like he’s going to lose his shit. “Make a wish before it’s too late!”
I close my eyes, but my mind is blank. I can’t really think of anything now that he put me on the spot, and I frown.
“Hurry up, Connie,” Kenneth urges. “The first thing that comes to mind, and go!”
“I wish—” I start, but he interrupts.
“Not out loud, baby, or it won’t come true.”
I smile softly, then think—I wish to marry Kenneth. To be in his life forever. That no matter the circumstances or how many lifetimes it takes, we’ll always be bound to each other.
Opening my eyes, I blow out the candles. I watch as the smoke wafts up, and then Ken is tugging me towards him and kissing me again. My toes curl at the feeling of his lips against mine, and when he pushes me away with one firm hand on my chest, I grin.
“Best birthday ever,” I breathe.
“You haven’t even opened your presents.” He rolls his eyes, then pushes the folder towards me. “Here you go.”
I look down at the black folder, wondering what could be in it, and hesitate.
Ken squeezes my forearm, clearly urging me to do it, and I take a deep breath and finally open it.
For a moment, I’m confused. Our nicknames are printed on some sort of black certificate with coordinates, which looks to be two supernovas in the shape of a heart in the middle. My throat dries, and I look up at him.
“It’s a binary star,” Ken whispers, “They’re our stars.”
“You got me a star, Kenny?” My voice is hoarse, and it cracks on his name. There’s no way to hide the emotion, and I feel so vulnerable that I have to look down at the certificate once more. I clear my throat as my vision blurs, and my hands shake.
“Of course, I got you a star, baby.” His voice is close to a whisper. “You’re my soulmate.”
My eyes sting so badly I have to blink, which makes a tear trail down my cheek. I try to wipe it as discreetly as possible, but I know he sees it anyway.
“It’s based on location,” he says softly. “So we can look at them from where we live.”
I breathe in deeply, but he grabs one more thing from inside the folder, and my heart begins to pound in my ears. I look up at him with wide eyes, and he smiles at me. “W-what’s that, Ken?” I ask him, and he slides it towards me on the countertop.
“My key.” He tells me nonchalantly, as if he’s not spinning my entire world on its axis. “Our keychain.”
I grab the key from him, staring down at the black keychain with a constellation and a bunch of other stars around it. When I turn it over, there’s an engraving on the back. It says: The night you said I love you.
Our eyes meet again, and I shake my head quickly. “Are you trying to kill me, Ken? My heart can’t fucking take this sweetness.”
Kenneth grins. “You like it?”
“You really are a closeted romantic, aren’t you?” I scoff, trying to use humor to hide how much this is affecting me.
“I told you I am.” Ken winks. “One more thing.”
My mouth drops. “There’s more?”
“Well, yes.” He smiles shyly. “I can’t give you a key but not a drawer.” He shrugs. “And space in my closet.”
My brow raises. “Is this your way of asking me to move in?”
“We don’t have to—” Kenneth rushes. “I know it’s really fast—”
“Ken, is that what you want?”
Kenneth finally makes eye contact with me. “Yes,” he whispers. “I mean, you already spend all your time here. You basically live here—”
“Yes!” I interrupt. My lips stretch into a wide grin, and I pull him into a tight hug.
“I’ll move in with you, baby.” My arms tighten around him when he wraps his own around my neck, and I hear him breathing me in, his nose pressed to my jaw.
It feels so intimate, and I want more. I can’t get him close enough.
I want to live inside his ribcage and listen to his heartbeat for the rest of my life. “Fuck, Kenny, I love you so much.”
Kenneth smiles against my jaw, and his lips brush against my skin as his lips tilt up. “I love you more.”
“Impossible,” I scoff, then pull back and kiss him. “It’s us forever, isn’t it?”
“Until the day we die.”
And it’s with those words that I think:
I don’t ever want to die.
I don’t ever want to be without him.
It doesn’t matter, though, because I know for a fact I’ll always come back to him.