Chapter 34
Ransom
“So,” I begin, “I’ve been thinking.”
“That usually ends badly,” Aksel mutters.
I ignore him.
“I’m going to move to Boston.”
He freezes. “What the fuck?”
“I’m going to move. To be with Ember. Permanently.”
He narrows his eyes. “Does she know?”
“No.”
“Jesus, Ransom.”
“If I tell her, she’ll stop me.” I pick up my beer and take a long pull.
Aksel has a conference in San Francisco, and he’s staying with me in Los Gatos while he’s here. We had dinner at Zola in Palo Alto, and then strolled up to The Rose she’s the reason I’m living.
By the time August hits, the heat in Boston is biblical.
I step out of the cab with my shirt clinging to my back, my hair damp.
Most of my stuff is in storage back in Palo Alto. Depending upon where Ember wants to live, we’ll decide what to bring here and what to get rid of.
I only have two suitcases with me.
Is it risky to knock on a woman’s door on Saturday afternoon and tell her you’re moving in with her? Hell, yeah.
But I have faith. I have trust. I know how this will turn out. But that doesn’t lessen the anxiety in my stomach.
I check her location. She’s in her apartment upstairs.
I text her: Where are you?
She replies instantly: Just got back from the gym. You?
I consider my options and then decide to surprise her.
Me: At home. Having a lazy day.
Ember: Nice!
I go into the building and nod at the concierge. He knows me. I’ve been here a few times in the past several months. I also have a key fob to her place.
I take the elevator, impatient as it slowly makes its way to the tenth floor.
I knock. And wait.
The door opens.
She’s in running shorts, her hair in a messy bun, and there’s sweat on her brow. She blinks, startled—and then confused.
“Ransom?”
“Hi.”
“Ransom?” she repeats it like she can’t believe what she’s seeing. She looks at the suitcases next to me, and then at me. “What…what?”
“I’m moving in.”
She stares. Her mouth opens. Then closes. Then opens again.
“I thought you had a rotation this week.”
“I do. In Boston. At Harvard Medical.”
Her hand flies to her mouth.
“You moved for me?” she whispers.
I shake my head. “I moved for us.”
She launches herself at me. I catch her.
She kisses my face, every part she can reach. “No way.”
A neighbor coughs discreetly.
Ember laughs. “Craig, this is my boyfriend. He’s moving in with me,” she says to the man at the door.
It’s unlike her to share personal details, but she’s riding a high. I understand. I am as well.
“Welcome to Back Bay,” the man says before going inside his apartment.
She gets one suitcase, and I get the other, and we roll them into her place. Our place.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” she whispers. “I…just can’t believe it.”
As soon as the door is closed behind us, I pull her to me, hold her tight. “You’re my life, Ember. My home is wherever you are.”
She pulls back and presses a hand to my chest. “But you love Stanford. You had everything there.”
“I have everything here,” I say simply. “I have you.”
She kisses me.
And just like that, the ache of distance, the cold silence of missed time, and all the weight of what we could’ve lost—melts away.
“You know,” she murmurs, head tilted, “you’re just assuming you can move in here?”
My lips twitch with amusement. “You’re right, I should’ve asked.”
“You should have,” she says in mock seriousness.
“You know what, I’ll just go on my knees and do it.”
My hands are under the elastic of her running shorts, cupping her bare ass.
“You just like to eat me,” she says primly.
“I do. And I’m going to do it all the time now.”
I haul her up to me, and she wraps her legs around my waist as I walk her to our bedroom.