- 20 -
March 2045
Dean
Four in the morning, I wake with the amount of energy I’d get from three cups of coffee. Hudson and Matt have been on duty for the last two days, so there’s a decent chance they’re still awake. It’s hard to sleep at the station. If they wanted to come home immediately after their shift I wouldn’t blame them, but it would alter my plans for our date.
Rise and shine, it’s almost date time! I text our roommate group.
My phone vibrates as a text from Matt comes through.
Mission “help Dean land a girl way out of his league” is on.
Hudson enters the chat before I can reply.
I don’t know Dean, I might be changing my mind. It’s only fair I take her out first. Test the waters for you.
Sarcasm is in every letter, but the thought has me clenching my phone like a letter on a windy day.
If you fumble her, don’t worry. We’ll be here to recover the play, Matt replies.
Double tapping the message, I react with a haha, close my eyes, and hope that sleep will find me again. Instead, the Polaroid picture of her projects onto my closed eyelids. It starts with one, and then more images pass by like an old-time film reel. I sweep her off her feet in the snow, spinning to the tune of her laughter. We’re dancing in the rain, kicking off our shoes to splash in the puddles. She’s asleep on my chest while I tickle her back.
Laying still for a few more minutes, I stare at the shadows on my ceiling that spell out the word reckless. Building a mental life with her is, but my world has already become a kingdom for her to rule. There’s no hiding it. Don’t really want to, either. If I don’t leash my hope, maybe it’ll lead me into the shoes of a man who deserves to rule alongside her. There will be no other end than us being together, because life makes infinitely more sense together.
Four thirty, I finally roll out of bed, drag a hand through my hair, and throw on some gray sweatpants. My body might as well accompany my mind on its run. At the very least, exercise should shed off the shaky energy in my hands. All of the planning I’ve done for today will matter.
It has to.
The run lasted about forty-five minutes before I started pacing around the city while it still slept. It’s different without its people—a display of sadness rather than a painting of welcoming nostalgia—but it’s coming back to life as people rise and start their days alongside the sun. Even the city changes with the times.
From the inside of my apartment, sunrise has always served as a brutal wake-up call. But from the outside, the windows sparkle with the warm orange reflection of its light. Reminds me of my favorite person, and suddenly the wake-up call doesn’t seem so brutal. I get to spend time with her today, which means it’ll be a good one. Smiling at the symbolism, I jog inside to get ready.
The timing matters and is a detail I refuse to let slip, but my overthinking almost has me running late. It’s a good thing I headed back to the apartment when I did, because getting dressed is impossible. Every outfit falls flat, missing the mark on the impression I hope to make. At this rate, I’d be better off wearing the tuxedo. At least then my confidence wouldn’t be at risk of wavering.
Someone who is put together but not a tryhard. Confident but not arrogant. Attractive but approachable. Real and worthwhile. What would that someone wear?
Staring in the mirror, I start by fixing my hair. A hat would be too casual, and maybe send the message I overslept, which is the exact opposite of what I did. Next, I clean up my face by shaving my five-o’clock shadow. It’s how I looked at the club, so Hallee already knows this version of me—already trusts this version of me, and that counts for something in my mind.
Pairing my light-wash jeans with the nicest T-shirt I have, I take one last glance in the mirror. My white tennis shoes squeak on the floor as I hop away from the last of my nerves and into excitement. The anticipation of her sunshine is already highlighting my best qualities. She’s the sun and I’m the window, proudly reflecting her light on me.
Hallee
Avery and Marlowe are giggling on the couch as we wait for Dean to arrive. Everyone loves a good love story, but in this apartment we really love a good love story. Love the story almost as much as the love. Maybe more.
The connection between Dean and me could be in my head, and it feels so good it might be; I can’t seem to tell what’s real once I look into those hazel eyes. But, if it was all in my head, he wouldn’t be knocking on the door and my feet wouldn’t be running to him like he’s my home.
“Girl!” Marlowe whistles, smiling wide as my eyes snap to her. “Go get your man.”
My man, my heart skips.
I sure hope so.
Excitement swarms my stomach as I reach for the door handle, touching it three times. I need all the luck on my side today. With one deep breath, I twist the knob and pull the door open. As my eyes adjust to the change in lighting, Dean’s pale blue T-shirt fades to a pure white.
“You match!” Avery squeals, and Dean laughs through his color-stained cheeks.
We do, even down to the wash of our jeans. Somehow, this is exactly what I expected and nothing I expected, simultaneously.
We are, too.
“Hi ladies,” Dean says, grinning as he waves, and I steal an up-down glance before he looks back at me.
“Good morning, Hallee.”
Oh, so he’s going formal instead of funny. Alright, I’ll follow that narrative. We are multifaceted—capable of many different realities.
“Good morning, Dean.”
“Yet again, you prove my theory to be true.” Raising a sunflower to me, he winks.
The callback is cute, but now I can’t breathe. We have memories together I never thought we’d have.
Weaving his fingers into mine, he tugs me out the door, leans around me, and waves to Marlowe and Avery. “Goodbye ladies!” he calls, tone sing-songy like he knows how excited they are. Then he smiles, completely unaware that acknowledging my friends might be the most attractive thing he’ll ever do.
Without a doubt, it mattered to them too. Avery will gush about it at dinner tonight, confirming that he won them over with that simple gesture. It’s another thing added to the list of reasons why he feels like home to me. Deep down, I hope this first date feels as monumental to him as it does to me.
“Goodbye, lovebirds!” Marlowe shouts over Avery’s giggling.
As he closes the door, our eyes lock. I’ve been in the guy’s shower, yet this is somehow more nerve-wracking. Now there’s actually something to be lost.
“Ready, Hal?” he asks, tipping his head like he did when I took his picture.
“Ready,” is all I can muster.
With his hand over mine, he leads me outside. The sun bathes our backs in warmth and elongates our shadows in front of us. I can’t tell where his stops and mine starts, and it feels a lot like our souls. Our silhouette makes sense which means we make sense, and a swirling shadow of leaves dances around us, cheering us on. We could keep doing this. Again and again. As many times as possible before the end of the year.
“Does my date want to be surprised, or know the plans for the day?” Dean asks, looking down at me.
“Hmm . . .”
Knowing would actually calm my stomach. Letting him plan the date was enough loss of control.
“I want to know.”
“Somehow, I knew that’s what you’d say.”
“Predictable is she. Hope you don’t get bored of me.”
“With rhymes like that? Never.”
“First, we’re grabbing coffee. The Marmotte will not suffer the loss of your sunshine today.”
“Good start!” I encourage.
Excellent start, really. The one I’d have picked.
“Second, we’ll walk a few blocks to pick up some bagels. I placed the order this morning, so they’ll be ready for us to grab and go to our next destination.”
My eyebrows shoot to my hairline.
He ordered for me? Gutsy. If he got it right, it was a confident decision, but if he got it wrong, it was a cocky assumption that he knew me well enough to already know what I like. Although it kind of feels like he does. Know me . . .
“Interesting. Go on.”
“We’re going to the park for a picnic, where you will proceed to stare into my dreamy galaxy eyes and fall madly in love with me.”
Mid-step, my feet freeze. The man really can read my mind.
Those eyes of his—they cause a head rush, heart rush, all the rush. Every kind of rush. Except the kind that speeds up time, because we already don’t have enough of it.
“Alright, you don’t have to fall madly in love.” He glances at me confidently, tugging my hand gently to resume our walk. “You can fall a socially acceptable amount in love. Although, that is much less exciting.”
“You . . .” I laugh, hitting him playfully on the arm with the sunflower.
“Me?” He pretends to gasp, but before I can return the flirting, I’m distracted by a man standing outside of The Marmotte.
He’s leaning against the wall, harmless enough, but this street is usually just a passing stop on a commute to or from somewhere. Can I switch sides with Dean, or would that be too obvious? I don’t want the man to think I’m afraid. That might hurt his feelings. Sidestepping closer to Dean, I lean into the comfort of his height and strength. Luckily, I don’t even think he notices.
As we approach, the man pushes off the wall and steps in front of us, hiding his arm behind his back. Adrenaline shoots through my fingertips, tightening my grip on Dean’s hand.
Please protect me, my eyes blink as he glances down.
“It’s okay, Hal. It’s Matt.”
Dean’s smile is sweet, gentle, reassuring but—should I know a Matt?
“For the lovely lady,” Matt says, bowing slightly and pulling a sunflower from behind his back.
My mouth gapes open as I glance at Dean. This is how the women must feel in the movies I watch. No wonder people try to capture this feeling.
“Did you—?”
“Did I what, Hal? Plan ?”
“Now is the time to accept,” Matt whispers, moving the sunflower closer to me.
“Oh my gosh, thank you!”
“You didn’t think I’d show my entire hand when you asked for the plan, did you?” Dean asks, the corner of his lips raising into a teasing grin.
“Yes, actually, I did.”
“A man never tells all his secrets,” Matt jokes.
“Thank you for your service, Matt. We will see you later,” Dean replies, giving him a single nod before leading me through the door of The Marmotte.
The smell of coffee welcomes us home as a couple of regulars who belong here, together. This place just became our place.
Dean
My phone vibrates twice with messages from Matt telling me he’s in place at the park. Hudson was waiting outside of the bagel shop, exactly as he said he’d be. The plan has been executed perfectly, although I never considered how it might feel to be a woman and have an unfamiliar man approach you—until Hallee stepped toward me. That little moment was unexpected, but not unnoticed. Thankfully when it was Hudson’s turn, she merely blushed through profuse gratitude, absolutely clueless as to how serious I was when I promised she’d never question my intentions again. The most serious I’ve ever been, I think.
Nature is slowly coming back to life. The ducks in the park are dunking their heads in the water without a worry in the world. She makes me feel like that—all carefree and light.
As we make our way to the blanket by the pond, Matt and Hudson step out from behind a large tree with sunflower bouquets in each of their arms.
“Oh!” Hallee gasps, hopping in this really cute way that makes me proud of myself.
As if they are here to take them instead of giving her more, she pulls her collection close to her heart. With how happy she looks, God so help me, I will find every single sunflower in this city and give it to her by the end of the year. Every sunflower will be returned to their sun.
When we planned the route, we’d settled on Matt holding all four bouquets of flowers. Hudson would’ve had to haul ass from the bagel shop to get here, especially without running into us along the way. Makes me happier than it should, how hard he tried.
Surprising Hal is intimidating because of how easily she startles, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t do it. Her face right now is proof of that. The absolute highlight of my year.
“You really shouldn’t have—” she starts, but I cut her off.
“I should have, and I did. Now I think they’d really appreciate seeing your strut, you know, for application purposes to continue to model for the fire department.”
Rather than slowing down after the momentum of my initial push, she spins melodramatically and rules the catwalk. Hudson whistles as she twirls again, right before them, and Matt’s jaw hits the grass. I didn’t expect her to actually do it, and didn’t think through that if she did, I wouldn’t be the only one wanting to take her home.
Probably wasn’t anyway. I mean—look at her.
“That’s my girl,” I whisper, heading to join them before drool runs down their faces.
“Nice to see you again, gentlemen. For me?” she asks, doe-eyed and batting her eyelashes.
Damn—I’m proud to show her off, but do they have to look at her like that? Like they might love her too. Everyone might. It’s impossible not to.
Wait, love? No, not yet.
Right?
Matt clears his throat, shaking me from my daze. “Our final flower delivery for the day, ma’am.”
The sunflowers fill her arms, blocking her vision as they bow to her. Barely lifting their gaze to mine, their devilish smirks are the flashing reminder—I fumble, they recover.
“This is where we leave you, milady,” Hudson says, his subpar British accent making her giggle.
They straighten to wave goodbye, and I’m too distracted to hear anything more than a gracious thank you from Hallee. With one drop of the attention she actually deserves, she’s glowing. My girl’s the brightest thing on this planet.
Her giggle reminds me in a gentle way to help her with the flowers, but as I carefully take them from her arms, her bag tumbles off of her shoulder.
“No!” she shouts, reaching out as if she can stop the fall mid-air.
A relieved sigh comes out of her as she bends down and pulls out a book, looking it over like it’s her most prized possession.
“It’s a paperback. I was worried the fall bent the corners.”
Her face flushes in this endearing, bashful way as she rubs at her arm. Bent corners would be very serious business, I’m not patronizing that. My heart’s just happy because she’s so cute, and my face wants to be happy too.
“I’m glad it’s okay,” I say, and I am, but she stares me down contemplatively. “Did you think you’d have a lot of reading time during our date?”
Sue me for grinning, I dare you. She’s just too damn adorable not to.
“No, I always keep one with me.” She gently places the book back into her bag. “I swear, Dean, I didn’t know what to expect for today, but I carry one with me wherever I go.”
There go her hands, nervously twisting the ends of her hair. She doesn’t want to hurt what she’s the keeper of. Doesn’t want to hurt my feelings.
I stand still for a few seconds, and she shifts uncomfortably under the pressure of my lingering stare. Somehow this woman doesn’t understand that she deserves love. That’ll change after one year with me.
“What?” she snaps, sitting down quickly on our picnic blanket.
“I just like looking at you.”
I join her, close enough to extend my arm out behind her as I lean back onto my hands, holding her gaze while I do it to see how much she trusts me.
“Alright, smooth talker, we’ve had plenty of laughs. Tell me something that matters.”
“Something that matters?”
“You heard me.” She tilts her head back, watching the sky like I’m watching her.
“There are many ways to matter,” I tentatively reply.
“Are there?”
The appropriate amount of time for me to think about a response approaches at full speed. I planned for a lot, but you can’t plan for how the tide of a conversation will go. I couldn’t plan for her to surprise me too.
“This matters,” I answer, holding up a single sunflower.
Chickened out from what I wanted to say—what I know she needs to hear. She waits for an explanation, so I double down.
“You matter.”
Sinks my stomach, her doubt-filled eyes.
“You’ll come to learn, Hal, that I’m not the best with words. There are never enough of them to amount to what I feel, and if there are, then their importance isn’t good enough. Actions are the easier way for me,” I mutter, my voice dripping in disappointment, but it’s not about being perfect. It’s about trying, and this is me trying.
“You’ve told me a million little things about yourself today, from what you planned, how you’ve treated me, and how you treated your friends.”
She reaches over, tilting my chin up so my eyes meet hers. Hers flick down to my mouth and back up, so quickly I almost missed it. Couldn’t miss anything she does, though.
“You are confident but not arrogant. Punctual but not inflexible. Attractive but not cocky.” Leaning in, she freezes with her lips a hair’s breadth away from mine. “You care about people, friends or strangers, and you are very very bad at hiding just how much you like me already.”
Holy—Sunshine. My woman is a mind reader.
“How’d you know that’s what I was going for?” I ask.
“Probably the white shoes.” She smirks, and my laughter becomes her laughter.
“Well, what else would you like to know?”
“Everything,” she whispers, pulling away casually as if she didn’t just have me in a chokehold in the middle of the park. Laying the back of her hand across her forehead, she jokes, “Oh, Dean, whatever will we do?”
“What do you mean?”
Her silliness turns to seriousness in one second.
“You and I both know we are one step away from falling off the cliff. One step from the point of no return for whatever this will be.”
The tremor in her voice hurts. She’s forgotten that one step is all it’s ever taken for me to understand her.
“If you’re not ready to break my fall when we reach the bottom, then I need you to let go before you take me over the edge with you. It’s irrational, and crazy, and fast, but there’s no halfway here for me, so please, Dean. This is the only time I’ll ask. Let go. If you don’t feel the same, then let me go.”
The desperate ache to comfort her is filled with the words I’d been missing. Taking her trembling hands in mine, I gently stroke my thumb over her palm.
“Look at me,” I insist, and her eyes immediately obey while a single, fear-filled tear falls from her face.
“I’ve got you, Hal. Let’s fall.”