Chapter 57 #2
“You should really try to stop calling me Chick. We’re in our thirties now, Landon. It’s very childish.”
“Would you rather me call you dollface or darling?”
“You tried both of those in high school. Neither of them worked.”
“Then what should I call you?”
“How about we go with Shay?”
“OK, Chick. I’ll see what I can do.”
What the hell?
He smiled a wicked grin, as if he knew something I’d yet to discover.
“You can call me Shannon, if you want to keep it professional,” I offered, trying to ignore the hiccup that was sitting in my throat.
He took a step closer to me. I watched his eyes dance across my body, moving up and down every inch, following to my lips, which he fixated on for what felt like hours, even if it was only mere seconds.
“What in the world makes you think I want to be anywhere near professional with you, Shay Gable?”
Oh, sweet Caroline, he was eyeing me up and down. I felt the pool of heat in my stomach starting to build and the trembling of my thighs as Landon proceeded to eye-fuck me right there in Greyson’s hallway, underneath the mistletoe.
I took a step back, trying to interrupt the awkward yet delicious interaction between us. I guessed he could see how he made me feel based on the redness of my cheeks. His smile deepened, pleased by how flustered he left me. He took a step back, and I took another two.
“Merry Christmas, Shay,” he whispered, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a banana Laffy Taffy.
I huffed and puffed and blew my nerves down as I snatched the candy from his grip. “Whatever, Landon. Merry Christmas.”
I hurried back into the kitchen to help Eleanor. She raised an eyebrow my way. “Are you OK?”
“Fine. Everything’s peachy,” I grumbled to myself, thinking about how odd Landon was acting. “You know what, I’m not peachy. You know what I hate most in this world?”
“What’s that?”
“Landon Harrison.” She laughed as if she didn’t believe me, because of course it was ridiculous, but I couldn’t get the unease out of my chest, so I kept going on.
“I mean, can you believe that? When I showed up today, he had the nerve to say ‘Merry Christmas’ to me. Can you believe that asshole?” I spat out.
By asshole, I meant love of my life.
She laughed. “How rude.”
“Exactly! It’s like he’s trying to play some mind games.”
“Or he just meant Merry Christmas.”
I huffed and puffed again. Maybe I was overthinking everything. At least that was what I thought until Landon popped his head into the kitchen.
“Need any help in here, ladies?” he asked.
“You cook?” I countered.
“Yeah, sometimes.”
“Why do I find that hard to believe?”
“I don’t know, but if you give me a few minutes, I’m sure I can bring some nice sausage into your life.” He winked my way.
He.
Winked.
My stomach rolled from his words. It was so out of character for him, and I hadn’t a clue what was going on. He was reminding me of the old Landon that I used to hate so much.
“You’re disgusting!” I said, confused by the person speaking to me. That wasn’t the man I loved. Not at all.
“I’m just saying, it will probably be the best meat you’ve had in a while. And if memory serves me right, which it does, you kind of already told me how much you loved my sausage.”
“Shut up, Landon,” I hissed as my cheeks heated up. “You’re so cocky.”
“I know, right?”
“Oh, fuck off, Landon,” I breathed out, completely flustered and embarrassed by the way he was talking.
The rest of the morning continued with the crude remarks and odd looks from Landon, leaving me feeling completely uneasy. It felt as if I stepped into the Twilight Zone and had no way of getting out.
When it was time for brunch, Eleanor asked me to go gather everyone up. “The guys are in Grey’s office. Just go on in and tell them to come.”
I agreed and hurried in their direction.
As I went to open the closed door, I paused as I heard voices talking.
“All I’m saying is, I could get Shay to fall in love with me all over again if I wanted to, but I don’t.
I have better things to do with my time,” Landon remarked, sending a dagger straight through my heart.
“I doubt it, man. I bet you couldn’t do it. She’s over you,” Hank added to the conversation.
“I’m with Hank,” Greyson remarked. “She’s not going to come back to you.”
“Let’s put money on it,” Landon said. “Two thousand dollars says I can make Shay fall in love with me again in the next three months.”
“Whoa, whoa. Not everyone has a whiskey company or is a famous actor. Some of us are poor. I’ll bet fifty bucks. Nothing higher,” Hank added in, and I was beyond pissed off now.
They were truly betting on me as if we were back in high school. There was no way I was going to have any part of this again.
I barged into the room, ready to snap at the guys for their childish behavior, but I paused my steps when I walked inside and saw papers scattered all across the office space.
Pieces of paper hung from the ceiling like stars filling the sky.
Papers covered the floors and the bookshelves.
Hundreds and hundreds of pages across the room.
I looked up at the three guys, who were cheesing too hard.
“What’s going on?” I asked, looking at them with their cheeky smiles.
“I think we’ll leave that for Landon to answer,” Greyson said as he and Hank hurried out of the room, shutting the door behind them.
My heart was pounding in my chest as if it was seconds away from leaping out of my body. “What is all of this?”
“It’s us,” he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets. He walked toward me and nodded toward the ceiling. “Well, at least it’s me speaking to you. There are over three thousand pieces of paper. Three thousand letters that I’d written to you. Three thousand pages of my love for you.”
I picked up a piece of paper from the ground, completely confused by what he was talking about. My eyes skated across the words as tears began to form in my eyes.
January 8, 2008
Chick,
Tonight is a hard one. I haven’t been able to sleep. I wanted to call you, but I doubt you still have my number. I wanted to hold you, but I knew I no longer had that right. My mind’s been heavy lately, and the only way I’ve been able to slow it down is when I think of you.
I think of your smile. Your laugh. Your dimple. Your kindness.
Every time I’m overwhelmed, I think of your heartbeats.
It always calms the war inside my soul.
I miss you.
I think I always will.
Raine told me you’re happy lately. In turn, so am I.
—Satan
I picked up more letters, my eyes shooting across the pages as if I were an addict in need of my next fix.
February 3, 2010
Happy birthday, Chick. I hope it’s one in a million.
—Satan
And another.
July 12, 2014
Chick,
I know it’s stupid that I still write these letters, but after all this time, it’s become a routine. It keeps my head clear, and my therapist says anything that keeps my mind on track is something worth keeping around. So I keep crafting my words for you. Only ever for you.
Last night I wanted to dream of your eyes.
I hate that they are fading from my memory.
—Satan
And another . . .
August 31, 2019
Chick,
Last night you told me you hated me at the whiskey party.
I hated that I wanted to tell you that I still loved you. That you still felt like home to me. That the happiest time of my life was when I was in your arms. I can’t blame you for hating me. I’d hate me too for what I’ve done.
But my love for you is still there, sitting strong within my chest.
I love you times two. I don’t think that will ever change.
—Satan
“You . . . you wrote me every day for the past decade?” I choked out, shock racing through my system as I stood in the middle of Landon’s mind. Words he created solely for me.
“Yes. I knew there came a point when I should’ve stopped, but I couldn’t. I felt as if I stopped writing my letters, I’d officially lose you, and I never wanted that. I never wanted to let you go.”
I walked over to him, treading through his stories, and took his hands into mine. I placed them against my chest and shook my head. “My heart doesn’t work the way it’s supposed to. I’m afraid of loving you, because that means I can lose you again, Landon, and that terrifies me.”
“I know. I know how much it scares you, because it scares me, too. I’m terrified that I’m going to mess this up.
I’m terrified that I’m going to ruin the best thing that’s ever happened to me due to my slips into depression or my struggles with sometimes making mistakes.
The idea of losing you all over again is too much for me, though.
We can be scared but still stay. We can be afraid and still honor our love.
Still fight for this—because this is it, Shay.
There’s never going to be anything or anyone else for me.
You’re my story. My final page, my final word. ”
I took a deep inhalation and released it slowly. “What if I take too long to figure out how to stop being afraid?”
“Remember what you said to me when we were younger? How you told me to take my time and to go slow? I need you to do that for yourself, but I’ll be right here waiting, ready to pick you up if you start to fall.
I promise to go slow with you, to take the time to relish in our love, to not speed through it and miss the beautiful moments—your laugh, your smile, your heartbeats.
I promise to move quietly through our love story, taking in every breath with care and passion.
I promise you all over this, all of me. I promise you that seré valiente, seré fuerte, seré amable, y quedaré.
” The moment those words fell from his tongue, the tears began rolling down my cheeks.
I kissed him.
It was so gentle and small that I wasn’t even sure that it qualified as a kiss, but my lips brushed against his as time stood still.
“This time’s forever?” I whispered against his lips.
“This time’s forever. I couldn’t imagine spending another day without you by my side. I love you, Shay, and I am going to spend the rest of my life making up for all the memories we missed out on creating. This,” he said, pulling me in closer to his chest, “this is only the beginning of us.”
I had a feeling it was going to be the best story ever written.
Landon rested his forehead against mine, holding me as if he had no plans of ever letting me go. “I love you, I love you,” he said, kissing me gently.
He said he loved me once so I’d hear him.
He said it twice to leave an imprint.