SUNDAY DINNER WILL BE STARTING any moment at the Harris house. If I squint hard enough through my bedroom window, I can see the top of their house through the wooded park. The thought of Booker being so close to me and operating business as usual guts me. If this was last week, I’d be going.
But it’s not.
And the painful reminder that everything has changed is turning me into a big bloody crybaby. I guess that could be the hormones, too. Is it too early to have pregnancy hormones? I should get a pregnancy book and do some reading. The doctor said I was about six weeks along and needed to schedule an appointment with a midwife at eight weeks. Here I sit around seven weeks, so I guess I better figure this shit out soon.
God, this is really happening.
The doorbell rings, and my heart is in my throat as I walk over and gaze into the peephole. Relief casts over me when I see a redhead and a brunette whispering to each other on the other side.
I fluff my short tresses and swipe under my eyes. Thank goodness I got somewhat dressed today. My subconscious was terrified that Booker might stop by. If he did, I didn’t want him to see me looking like Amy Winehouse after a bender, which is pretty much what my reflection has looked like all week, even though I haven’t been drinking. So, today I slipped into a comfortable sundress that could double as pyjamas if I wanted it to. I even snuck a little of my mum’s mascara to help myself feel more human. I may feel pathetic, but I’d rather not look it.
Smiling brightly, I open the door. “Fancy seeing you girls here. Have you been out drinking sangria with the masses of Chigwell WAGs around here?”
Belle’s face sneers. “Don’t be daft. I’d die before I’d go out in Chigwell.”
Indie smiles awkwardly. “What Belle means is your parents’ home is lovely.”
Belle rolls her eyes. “You know what I mean.”
Giving a polite laugh, I ask, “How did you guys know where to find me?”
Indie looks down and Belle tsks like she’s annoyed. “Andrew snapped like a twig. For a hot Scotsman, he’s not very strong.”
I shudder to even imagine what they did to get Andrew talking. “Poor Andrew. So, what brings you here?”
Belle pushes her way past the doorway and steps into the foyer. “We know everything.”
My eyes are wide as I look back at Indie and ask, “Everything, everything?”
They both frown at me. Indie is the one to reply. “We know you guys had a row and you’re moving out.”
I let out a breath I didn’t even realise I was holding. I’ve not even told my parents I’m pregnant yet. The idea of Booker’s family knowing already would be too much to handle.
Belle’s voice snaps my attention to her. “Where are your parents?”
“The Canary Islands. I’m sorry. What all did Booker tell Vi?”
Indie replies simply, “That you left.”
My brows lift and I feel like I could tip forward. “Is that all?”
“Yes,” Belle states, her brow furrowing at me like I’m a mental patient.
I exhale with relief. “Do you guys have time for some tea? I’m extremely thirsty.”
They follow me into the kitchen and sit up at the long counter island. I put on a kettle and then grab a few tea bags and mugs.
“So, how are you doing?” Belle asks like she’s waiting for me to say something.
“I’m fine.”
“Seriously?”
“No, but there’s nothing that can be done. You were right. I wouldn’t have been satisfied if I didn’t try. And I tried.”
“For two weeks,” Belle scoffs. “I can’t believe it all fell apart so quickly. What happened?”
I shrug, wishing I could tell them everything but knowing that it’s not the right time. “I’m in love with him.”
“I thought you were already in love with him?” Indie asks, her tone soft and sympathetic.
“I didn’t even know what love was back then. The two weeks we spent together as a couple were some of the best days of my life. I drifted into a dream with him. Knowing that I can never have any of that back makes me hurt in places I didn’t even know could hurt.”
Belle and Indie are silent for a moment.
“But what if things were different?” Belle asks, glancing down at her watch and looking up at me.
I sigh, feeling like I’m reliving the same conversation I had with Andrew two days ago. “They won’t be. I don’t know if I’d ever be able to trust Booker with my heart again. Too much pain has happened.” Belle looks at her watch again. “You guys need to get going, don’t you? It’s almost dark outside. Surely dinner is almost ready. Don’t let me keep you.”
Indie and Belle give each other a peculiar look. “Go for a walk with us,” Indie says, her voice cheery.
“A walk?”
She nods. “Yeah, I want to see the wooded park behind your house.”
This is getting stranger by the minute. “No thanks.”
“Just a short one,” Belle interjects. “I think it’d be good for you to go outside for a bit.”
I huff, “I’m not going in the woods, guys. I…hate it back there. It holds my favourite and my most horrid memories.”
“What if there was something out there that blasted out all of those memories? The good and the bad. What if there was something out there that made everything from the past disappear and all you could see are new memories to be made?”
“There is absolutely nothing out there that will help erase what’s already been done. It’s burned into my memory.”
“Poppy,” Indie states, her voice firmer than I’ve ever heard it. “I think you’re incredible, but you’re dead wrong.”
“Dead wrong,” Belle repeats.
Their serious faces have me completely curious now.
“Come with us, Poppy,” Belle states one last time. “There’s something you have to see.”
“All right,” I finally agree and follow them to the front door. I slip into my flats and guide them around to the back.
The sun is just beginning to set as we walk through the garden of my parents’ estate. The golden tones saturate the green grass and manicured flowers in stunning light. We pass through the gate that leads into an open grassy knoll and then reach the edge of the woods where the park begins. It’s a beautiful five minute walk amongst the mature pine, oak, and elm trees. Since it’s the height of summer, everything’s very green and lush. Idyllic really under normal circumstances.
It’s been over six years since the last time I’ve been out here, so I’m surprised to find the path I wore down over time is still present. Sadness creeps over me as I think about the lifetime of memories this wooded park holds. I keep my head down and try to steel myself for how I’ll feel when we reach the area where Booker and I played the most.
When we draw closer, a white paper bag with a burning candle inside catches my eye. My head snaps up to find two rows of burning lanterns lighting a path to the place my fallen tree used to sit. The tree that once laid there with moss growing up the sides is gone. The place where I sang countless songs upon. A couple other trees that occupied the area are now cleared out as well. In their place is a bright yellow painted structure that looks like a children’s playhouse. But it’s even more stunning because it’s a bit of a ramshackle design—rickety and topsy-turvy, like a cartoon house. It even has a covered porch with thick, knotty tree branches for rails and an overflowing flower box in the window. Whomever built this put loads of time into it.
“What’s happened out here?” I ask, my voice breathy and awestruck. “Do you know who did this?”
I turn and look over to Indie’s water eyes as she answers, “Who do you think?”
My jaw drops. “When? Why? H-h-how?” I stammer.
Belle touches my arm and answers, “He made it for your baby.”
My breath catches and my head snaps back and forth between them. I cover my mouth and mumble, “You guys know?”
Belle laughs and says, “The Harrises have no secrets, darling. You should know that better than anyone.”
I laugh like a moron because she’s totally right. Suddenly, I see movement out of the corner of my eye and look over to see Booker walking out from behind the house. He’s dressed in a pair of filthy jeans with holes in the knees and a white T-shirt with yellow paint splattered all over it. His arms and face are caked in sweat and dirt.
He looks gorgeous.
And completely nervous as he tries to smooth back some of his wild dark locks spackled with paint. “I planned on cleaning up before you got here, but it turns out I’m not very handy. At all,” he laughs. “And I greatly underestimated how long this would take.”
We laugh awkwardly as Belle and Indie begin to back away. I hear their retreating footsteps behind me, but my eyes are zeroed in on Booker. He’s covered in dirt, but with the golden sunlight slicing in behind him, I’m not sure he’s ever looked more handsome.
I walk a little closer and stand in front of the mini porch to get a better look. It’s truly exquisite, right down to the adorably crooked front door. “What is all of this?”
“It’s a playhouse,” he replies and stuffs his hands in his pockets. The manly scent wafting off of him is so familiar, I have to stop myself from moving closer to him.
Smiling, I reply, “I can see that. But why did you build it?”
“Because I want a place to create new memories with you, Poppy.”
My heart sinks. “Booker, this doesn’t change—”
He cuts me off. “Because I’m an arse and I screwed up when we were kids, but I swear on my life, Poppy, I never slept with Sidney out here. She told me she loved me and tried to use sex to manipulate me into saying things I didn’t feel. The second she did, I knew we were over. I never slept with her that night or any night. And I certainly never loved her. I’ve never said those words to her or anyone who isn’t family. Ever.”
I purse my lips together and beg my chin to stop quivering. Hearing him say all of this soothes a dark part of my anxious, troubled soul. But not all of it. There’s still a huge segment that needs more. “I’d be lying if I said I’m not thrilled to hear that, Booker. But it’s only part of the problem between us.”
“I know,” he replies in a hurry. “But I needed you to know that before I tell you the rest.”
“What’s the rest?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest for protection. This is so painful. Every moment of my insecure childhood is looking me right in the face. I feel like I could crawl out of my own skin.
“Sidney asked me to bring her out here because I would never shut up about you. About how special you were. About how I wished more girls were like you. I took her to that hospital charity last year because you weren’t here, and Sidney feels safe because I feel nothing for her. The whole time you were in Germany, I never settled down with anyone because they weren’t you. Poppy, I’ve never discussed pet names with a girl before. Or invited them to my matches. I’ve certainly never brought them to Harris Sunday dinners. I need you to know that you’re different.”
His words do nothing to alleviate the ache in my chest. “I believe I’m different, Booker, but only because we’re best friends and that’s all.”
“Rubbish,” he growls, stepping into my space so close that I could easily touch him. His hard eyes pin me to my spot as he says, “I know you think I’m not all in with you, or that you think you know what I’m feeling. But you don’t, Poppy. You can’t possibly. This right here”—he touches the beam on the overhead porch—“This little house I made with about six other blokes because I’m a shit carpenter…I made this because I want to bring our child here to play. I want to tell her…or him everything you and I did here together as best friends. All the adventures we created. All the fun we had. And I don’t want to do that by myself. I want to do that with you.”
“Booker,” I say with a sigh. “This playhouse is extraordinary, but I want more than a friend. I want love.”
“You can have that with me, Poppy!” he growls and shoves a raw, callused hand through his hair, exhaling heavily and moving closer to me. The smell of sweat and dirt radiate off of him, and my traitorous body wants to move in and rub his scent all over me.
“Poppy, you are everything I want as a man and everything I took for granted as a boy.”
Shaking my head in frustration, I reply “I don’t even know what that means!”
“That’s why I brought you here,” he growls. “We missed so many kisses growing up. Kisses I should have given you, but I was too stupid to understand what real love was at the time.”
My breath inhales sharply at the word love coming out of his mouth so easily. “What did you just say?” I stammer. Surely he didn’t mean to say it.
“I’m going to show you every single kiss we missed.” He leans in, his breath warm on my neck as he whispers in my ear, “Like the first time we met kiss, when you were in that dirty yellow dress and made me smile because of the way you talked to your dog, Pink, like he was a real person.” He kisses me on the cheek.
I swallow hard as he pulls back and looks at me with so much affection in his eyes, it makes my legs wobble.
He licks his lips, clearly just getting started. “First cheeky kiss, when I slept over at your house and I wondered what your lips tasted like, so I snuck one while you were asleep.” He leans in again and murmurs, “Close your eyes, Poppy.” I do and he brushes his lips on mine so softly, it’s like a feather stroke. Then he pulls away, and my eyes flutter open just in time to catch a rueful smile tugging on the corners of his mouth.
“A first date kiss, when I finally manned up and asked you out on a proper date. But I was too nervous to kiss you the way I wanted to, so I did this instead.” He cups my face in his hands and then plants an awkward, chaste peck on me. I can’t help but giggle.
His dimples crease into his cheeks as he watches me laugh. “A horny teenager kiss.”
My mouth tightens with excitement, but then he surprises me completely when he dips his head to my neck and sucks so hard, I yelp in pain. “Booker!”
He pulls back and fails to conceal his cocky smile as I rub the love bite that I’m sure he’s left there. “What?” he asks, laughing.
“You’re a cheeky sod,” I grumble in a scolding tone.
He watches me fuss for a moment. Then his smile slowly fades, revealing that his mind has moved on to the next kiss. He exhales a shaky breath and whispers, “A first real kiss.”
Looking nervously into my eyes, he moves his hands down to my waist and pulls me flush against him. My hands land on his chest as he finds my expectant lips and swiftly parts them with his tongue. A soft whimper slips out of my throat as he deepens the kiss, his tongue urgent and coaxing. My body melts into his as he tightens his grip around me, commanding me in his tight hold.
Without warning, he breaks the kiss. I’m breathing heavily as our eyes find each other, half closed and half turned on until his face grows serious. He suddenly looks sad. Greif evident in the pupils of his eyes.
“A goodbye kiss,” he states, his voice raw. His eyes slam shut as he bends my head back and kisses me so hard and so passionately, I think there might be bruises left in his wake. His lips beg for something heady. They beg me to be his. They beg me to stay. To let go and forget about leaving. I’m instantly transported to the day I left for Germany. He was so tortured, so surprised. And I was so determined at the time, I thought nothing could change my mind. Quite honestly, though, if he would have kissed me like this, I would have stayed forever.
When he pulls away, his eyes are glassy and it breaks my heart. He sniffs and says, “A new beginnings kiss.” He strokes the backs of his fingers down my cheeks and kisses me softly. Timid and gentle at first, but then he strengthens it like he did our first night together.
We separate after a moment, both panting. But he’s not done. He reaches forward and strokes my belly. The sensation causes a knot to form in my throat as he says, “The mother of my child kiss.” I brace myself for a kiss on my lips again, but instead, he bends over and presses his lips to my small belly.
A sob bubbles from my throat. I can’t help it. It’s the realest this entire thing has ever felt, and hearing him recognise the baby is more emotional than I could’ve ever imagined.
When he rises, tears are streaming down his face. A face that I’ve loved for so long, I can’t remember a time I didn’t love it. Can I really let myself go with him after a lifetime of love not being reciprocated?
“Booker—”
“These are all the kisses I owed you throughout our friendship. But the most important kiss of all…The one I’ve been denying since the day we met, Poppy McAdams, is the I love you kiss. The real, soul-ruining kind of love. The kind where you feel like you’re free-falling and it’s thrilling but scary as hell. Or maybe that’s just how it is for me.
This is where I first felt it for you, Poppy. Not the day you moved back to London., and not the day you told me two weeks ago. I’ve felt it for most of my life. I’m only sorry it took me until now to realise it.”
He steps closer and cups my cheeks, saying the words I’ve been aching to hear. “I am completely in love with you, Sunshine.”
Those words. Never have I known how powerful words are until this moment.
My breath.
My heart.
My soul.
My entire world shifts as he erases the distance between us and presses his lips to mine, causing me to crumble inside. Every brick that I built up against my feelings for Booker turn to dust and create a swirling storm of complete love and devotion for this man. No longer a boy. No longer a best friend.
Booker Harris is the man I love and the man who loves me back.