34. Chapter 34
Chapter 34
Chloe
We finish our climb and an hour later, we’re back at Dawson’s snuggled on the couch. I’m curled up against his side. Dawson’s arm drapes around my shoulders, his palm resting on my hip. Queued on the TV is Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery .
“Random question,” I say, tilting my head back slightly to look at his handsome face. “What kind of puzzles do you like to do? A thousand pieces? Landscape? Also, when is your birthday?”
“That’s more than one question,” he teases. “Which do you want the answer to most?”
“All of them.” I’m not saying I’m buying Dawson a puzzle for his birthday; he’ll most likely get it at Christmas or as an “I’m thinking of you” gift. But each question is important.
“Any design. I’m not picky. Five hundred and above is good. March twenty-ninth. ”
Puzzles aren’t my favorite thing to do, but I can totally see us five years from now rewatching favorite movies while putting one together after Finn’s in bed. “Thank you.”
“Any other questions you’d like to know before we start the movie?”
“Tons, but if we don’t start soon, I’ll fall asleep like last time.”
Dawson squeezes my side. “Yeah, but if it happens, we won’t have an eight-year-old screaming in our face about it at seven in the morning.”
“Are you asking me to sleep over, Smokey? You like to be scandalous.”
“I intend to let you leave whenever you want to.”
I want to say it will be never, but I’m too scared of admitting it out loud so soon. “I’ll keep you informed when the time comes.”
“Thank you for your consideration. Are you ready to start the movie?”
“Almost.” I sit up, shifting until I’m facing Dawson. Staring at his lips, I jerk my gaze to my hands in my lap, back up to his lips. “Do you think we could try kissing one more time?” I hold my hands out, palms facing Dawson. “We’ll go slow. But if you’d rather wait until another time, we will.” I won’t like it, but I’ll do it.
His brows shoot up. “I didn’t scare you away after my reaction in the parking lot?”
At the time, yeah. But since he explained why he reacted the way he did? Nope. All during rock climbing, watching his strong body work its way up the wall, only deepened my desire to kiss him again. “For a moment, but not permanently. ”
In my mind, Dawson doesn’t say anything, instead he jumps on me, pushing me until I’m lying flat on my back with him on top of me, kissing me like the world is about to end. In reality, Dawson’s hand plays with the ends of my hair draped over my shoulder. His knuckles brush over my collarbone and a shiver runs down my back from the simple touch that’s full of anticipation.
He continues to run his fingers through my hair. The longer he takes to say yes or no, the more my stomach tightens and my lungs labor for breath. If he doesn’t say something soon, I’ll be the one jumping on him. Or leaving because I can’t stand what he’s doing to me and not being able to do anything about it.
“Dawson?” The way I say his name is a plea for the torture to end.
His gaze jumps to mine. He holds eye contact for one. Two. Three seconds. His pupils get bigger and bigger as desire flares to life. I raise my hands, ready to push him away, unable to have him look at me with such intense heat. Blessedly, he brings his mouth to mine.
His lips are soft and gentle this time. Almost as if he’s afraid I’ll break. But it’s the other way around. I’m not fragile. It takes all my effort to hold myself back from intensifying the kiss. From climbing on his lap and running my hands through his hair. But I refuse not to listen to Dawson and what he needs. I force myself to keep things tender and sweet. To concentrate on the heat of his breath on my mouth, the soft pad of his thumb running along my collarbone. The way this slow and languid kiss sends a flock of flutters swirling in my stomach .
As much as I liked the kiss by the car, there’s something exquisite about slowing down and taking time to let my feelings for Dawson heighten with this gentleness between us. Sliding my hand up his arm, I place my palm on the side of his neck.
Dawson’s pulse races under my touch.
I’m worried he’ll freak out again, considering how hard his heart is beating. “Is this okay?” I whisper against his lips.
“It’s perfect,” he says, kissing me again.
My lips are tender from the continued brushing of Dawson’s mouth against mine. I hope they’re raw by the time either of us is tired from kissing. I take that back. I highly doubt I’ll ever get sick of doing this with Dawson, raw skin or not. When we’re seventy and gray, I really hope we’re sharing smooches multiple times a day.
The thought of a future, of having children with Dawson, doesn’t scare me nearly as much as it used to.
Before I’m ready, Dawson pulls back. “We should start the movie.”
I hold in my whimper, respecting Dawson’s boundary, despite my desire to do more. “Um, yeah. Yep. Let’s do that.” But as the movie plays, I’m not paying attention at all to who each character is or how they’re all tied together. My mind is stuck replaying the kisses Dawson and I shared tonight. All tiredness leaves my body. I’m alert and hyper focused on every breath and subtle movement Dawson makes.
“You were quiet,” Dawson says, turning the television off. “Did that one scare you?”
“Umm…no, not scary… I’m just…thinking about things.”
“We didn’t have to watch a movie tonight. Are you ready to head home?”
Is he crazy? He’ll have a hard time sending me home. “Not yet.”
He chuckles. “What would you like to do then?”
“How lame would you think I am if I said talk?”
“What about?”
Anything. Everything. “What’s your biggest fear?”
“Dang, 007. You like to go deep.”
“How else are we supposed to get to know each other and find out if we’re compatible long term?”
He sighs. “I see your point. I’ll make you a deal. We’ll answer five easy questions first, then I’ll share my deepest, darkest secrets with you.”
I sit up, pulling my leg onto the couch, bending it on the cushion until I’m facing Dawson. Seeing his face is necessary. Eye contact, facial reactions. I need the connection as we speak. “Fire away.”
“What was your first job?”
Not one I liked. “I was a cashier at Raging Waters. It sucked watching everyone else have fun on the water slides while I was sweating in the heat, taking food orders and scooping ice cream. What about you?”
Dawson’s eyes light up. “I had the best time working at an arcade. When we’d close for the night, me and my friend Travis stayed and played games for hours. ”
“Is the arcade where your love of video games developed?”
He tilts his head to the side. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever thought about it. But, yeah, I think it played a big role.”
“Did you have a favorite game you played?”
“Pac-Man and Tetris. Pac-Man was fun, but Tetris let me use my brain to twist and turn the pieces to fit together. Maybe it’s why I love puzzles as much as I do.”
I take his hand, shaking it. “Look at us figuring you out.”
“Yes, this psychoanalysis is exactly what I’ve been missing in my life,” he deadpans.
I laugh. “Stop. I like learning more about you.”
“I like learning about you, too. What was your favorite birthday growing up?”
He’s turning the table on me. I don’t like thinking about how lonely and boring my birthdays were after Carter and I turned six. “My fifth birthday. My mom took us to Hollywood Connection. Do you remember that place? We spent the entire day there skating, seeing a movie, playing arcade games, going on rides, and mini-golfing. Shortly after, she met a guy who turned our lives upside down. Things were never the same after that.”
Dawson puts his other hand on my leg, giving it a squeeze. “That sounds like an amazing day and a good memory to hold on to.”
“I do treasure it. Whenever I’m super angry, thinking back on how much fun we had that day, it reminds me my mom used to be amazing, before her addiction. When Carter and I turned twenty-one, we went to St. Thomas and spent our weekend doing everything we wish we could have done with our mom. We had fun, but we both knew it was a mask to hide our disappointment. Maybe my thirtieth will be everything I’ve ever wanted.”
“What does your dream birthday look like?”
“The child in me wants a pi?ata, a mermaid-themed cake, and a water festival. Oooh, or maybe a trip to Disneyland. I’ve never been, and it’s supposed to be the most magical place on earth.” I whisper as I admit the thing I want most but never let myself dream of having until meeting Dawson. “Now though? I want a family. Children of my own. A spouse who will forgive my mistakes and help me work through my struggles.”
Dawson pulls me in for a hug. “What about combining the two? Taking your family to Disneyland.”
My heart is like the warm buttery crumble on top of apple crisp. “I’d say a birthday couldn’t be better.”
“How many years do we have to save for it?”
My heart swells. He said we . “Four years.”
“Completely doable.”
Emotions burn my eyes. The image of me, Dawson, Finn, and potentially a little one in tow, all wearing Mickey ears, walking around the park makes my heart explode with joy and desire. Yes, it’s ridiculously soon to be planning a family and my birthday so far in advance, but the image of my future has always been fuzzy. Since meeting Dawson, every time we’re around each other, the picture gets clearer. And I see it now. The dream. A full life. A partner and children. “I’ll start saving.”
“Me too. Ready for the next question?”
“Yeah. ”
“What’s your favorite number, and why?”
I let out a nervous chuckle. This is slightly embarrassing. “My favorite number is eleven because of Alex Smith, the Chiefs quarterback. He also played for Utah before getting drafted to your team. I had a major crush on him when I was sixteen and seventeen.”
Dawson throws his head back, laughing like what I confessed is the funniest thing he’s ever heard.
“It’s not that funny,” I defend.
“Uh, yeah, it totally is.”
“What’s your favorite number, and why?” I demand, ready for Dawson to quit making fun of me. Teen crushes are no joke. There’s a part of me who still thinks Alex is amazing and if I ever get the chance to meet him, I’m going to fan-girl harder than a Swiftie.
“Five, because that’s how many people are in my family.”
“That’s sweet.”
“I know.” He grins. “Next question. What’s your favorite animal?”
“We talked about this already. Cheetahs. You never shared yours though.”
He blinks.
“Is there a problem? You asked this question.”
He nods slowly. “Yeah, I didn’t think this through.”
Is he about to tell me an embarrassing story? I’m so ready for it. “Spill it.”
“Pandas.”
“Awww,” I say. Why was he afraid to tell me? “Pandas are flippin’ adorable! Have you seen the videos of them playing in the snow? They’re so cute!” I gasp. “My nickname for you makes more sense than ever! Is that why you didn’t want me to know?”
“Poooossibly.”
I tickle his side. “I love it! And you are never getting a different nickname.”
He acts put out, rolling his eyes for good measure. “It’s a good thing I like you.”
“I like you too, Smokey. Now, what’s the last question before you tell me your biggest fear?”
“What type of weather is your favorite?”
“It depends on the time of year and if I have to be anywhere.”
Dawson gestures with his hand for me to continue. “Care to be more specific?”
“If I don’t have anywhere to go, I love a rainy day spent snuggled on my couch under a blanket watching movies. Otherwise, seventy degrees with a slight breeze.”
“Did you mean to rhyme?”
“Nope,” I say, popping the P. “I’m just naturally a genius. And you?”
“I love winter. I haven’t been sledding or snowboarding in a while, but I loved it as a kid. A lot of the activities Finn participates in don’t happen in December and January, which means we get to stay home more often as well.”
“Ugh, but then you have to scrape your windows, shovel your sidewalks, and I’m freezing all the time.”
Dawson sweeps his hands down his torso. “Yeah, but this winter you’ll have a bear to keep you warm. ”
I lean forward, planting a kiss on Dawson’s lips. “It’ll probably be the only thing keeping me from becoming my usual grump.”
“Then I’m glad we met and I can assist you this winter.”
“I look forward to it. Now—” I tap his wrist. “Your biggest fear is…”
He spits out, “Spiders.”
Listen, they’re horrible little arachnids that don’t deserve to live if they invade my home, but most in Utah are small compared to the size of an adult. He’s really afraid of them? “Huh. I thought you’d say something different.”
He grins. “I’m mostly kidding. I don’t like them, but I’m not afraid of getting rid of them. My biggest fear is not being able to take care of Finn the way he needs.”
I climb onto his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck. “You’re an amazing father. You care about his homework, spend time with him, feed him. He has a roof over his head, clean clothes, and a good neighborhood close to your family. You’re doing better than you think.”
“But I took him away from his mom.”
I pull back, just enough that I can see his face while still hugging him. “Yes, you moved to a different state, but from what you’ve told me, Willow chose her career over Finn a long time ago. You allow him to talk to her anytime she calls. You never say anything bad about her in front of him. I’m sure moving home was an extremely difficult decision to make, but as the primary caregiver, surrounding yourself with family who can help you is important. If you stayed in Nashville, how burned out would you be by now, doing life by yourself with no support system? Here, you have people who can watch Finn when needed. Dinners to attend where Finn feels loved and wanted.”
He scrubs his palms over his face. “No, I know. It’s why we came back to Utah. But there’s always a piece of my brain worrying that I made a mistake.”
“Where are Finn’s other grandparents? Willow’s parents?”
“They live in Florida. Once, when Finn was two, they came to see us. Willow isn’t close to her family like I am with mine.”
“Then you absolutely made the right decision bringing Finn home.”
“I appreciate you saying that.”
“But it doesn’t erase your fear?” I raise a brow, waiting for him to confirm my suspicion. I get it. Well, as close as I can without having children of my own, but I assume as a parent, there’s always the fear of not doing enough for your kids. That you’re failing them in one way or another.
Dawson smiles sadly. “No.”
“It’s okay. One day, when he’s grown, you’ll have an epiphany and realize you did a wonderful job raising your son.”
“I’m really glad we met, Chlo.”
“The feeling is one hundred percent mutual.”