"Hiiii," I cooed into the camera on my laptop.

"Hi, Princess." The screen in front of me blurred while I figured Sacha moved around his hotel room. A second later the shot focused on the normally handsome man on the screen. He looked terrible. His pale eyes were dull, highlighted by the dark bags beneath them.

"You look like shit," I said, taking in the sickly, ashen shade of his skin. It was a telltale sign that the flu he’d come down with two days ago was still kicking his ass.

Sacha smiled weakly, chuckling. "Happy anniversary to you, my love."

I squeaked, temporarily forgetting about how sick he looked. "Happy anniversary!"

"I'm sorry I can't be there," he murmured, running a hand through his growing hair. The last time I'd seen him—almost four weeks ago—it'd been at its usual short buzz cut length on the sides. Recently, he'd been getting a lot lazier about shaving it meticulously, and I liked it. Then again, I'd probably still think he was beautiful if he had a mullet—the true sign of a perfect specimen.

I shrugged, smiling at him through the camera. "It's okay. My present showed up in the mail yesterday, but I waited until today to open it like the box said," I told him in a sing-song voice, with a wiggle to my eyebrows, holding up the cool bracelet he'd sent me from Indonesia. "I love it."

Sacha leaned forward to rest his chin on his hand, still looking out of sorts but happy. The plain white-gold band on his ring finger winked at me, reminding me that exactly a year ago, we'd decided at the last minute to go get hitched. We didn't even have rings when we did it. It had just been two random people at the courthouse who’d served as our witnesses, and us. Weeks later, we finally got around to getting some simple bands and couldn’t have been happier.

We'd made it exactly two months living in different states before he stated the distance was killing him. In sixty days, he’d visited me three times, and I’d gone to see him twice in San Francisco before accepting that we didn't want to be so far away from each other. Correction: We couldn't be so far away from each other.

A game of paper-rock-scissors via video chat decided that I'd be the one moving.

And I did.

"I thought of you when I saw it." He somehow managed to wink at me despite the fact that I knew he felt awful. "I have another one."

"Another present?"

He nodded.

I made an “ooh” noise. "Show me."

His tired face softened as he grinned wickedly. A moment later, he pulled his shirt over his head and gave me a perfect view of one side of his tattooed chest—

"You got my name tattooed!" I yelled it, leaning forward in my chair to get a better look at the pretty, loopy lettering on my screen, because that definitely worked.

"No, I got the other love of my life's name tattooed," he laughed hoarsely.

"Sassy," I sighed. The trance I was in was so powerful I couldn't think of a comeback to his dumb response. My eyes were glued to the fact that my name was permanently tattooed onto his skin, directly mirroring the black swirl on his other pec. There was a little turtle dove at the end of the 'y' and I suddenly had the urge to cry. "I miss you." The statement came out like a sad moan. “I have your present here, ready and waiting.”

Sacha's smirk was a wasteful one. "You have no idea how much I miss you too, but I'll be home in three days." He sighed.

"Naked?"

He laughed. "Definitely—"

"Sachita!" Eli's booming, deep voice called out from over my shoulder.

I turned around to roll my eyes at my brother. He'd been staying with me for the last two weeks, but he spent more time with our twenty-year-old, single blonde neighbor than he did with his “favorite sister.” Right after we'd gotten home from The Rhythm & Chord Tour, he'd committed himself to not going so long without seeing me. True to his word, Eli went out of his way to visit even after I moved halfway across the country. Hell, Mase and Gordo tagged along half the time. No distance was too far to strain those friendships.

"Hey, E," Sacha called out with a wave.

"Me and Gaby went to go see the new Transformers movie," my brother offered him the information, despite the fact that we'd said we wouldn't tell Sacha we'd gone unless he asked. The bastard. They were Sacha’s favorite movies.

He gasped. "You went without me?"

I nodded at him slowly, gravely. "I’m sorry. We were really bored, and I promise to go watch it with you again when you get home."

"You're lucky I love you," he grinned. He loved his movies, but he loved me more.

"I know, Sassy." I smiled back at him, completely forgetting about Eli standing behind me.

"I'm gonna go puke now. Take care, man. I'll take care of your old hag until you get home!" Eli yelled before throwing something at the back of my head and leaving the room.

I rolled my eyes and laughed. "Remind me why I went into business with him."

"Because you love him?" Sacha asked me with a raised eyebrow, like it was difficult for him to remember why I’d done it too.

A couple months after we’d moved in together, I still hadn't been able to find a job that I was crazy about. Sacha had offered to take me on tour with him as their merch girl, but I loved Carter. He cemented himself as one of my closest—and only—friends after my move, and I knew damn well he loved touring with TCC despite how little they helped him. There was no way I was going to screw him over like that. After mentioning it to Eliza one night over the phone, he asked me why I didn't just sell merch online. Ghost Orchid paid out of their butts to let a major company sell their things for them, apparently.

An idea, and a small loan from my brother because I refused to take money from Sacha, started The Merch Girl. It was an online website where I sold TCC, Ghost Orchid and eventually fifteen other bands’ merch, thanks to contacts from my two favorite men. I charged less than most other big companies did and made sure to stay on top of everything. The ultimate bonus was being my own boss, so I could visit Sacha on tour whenever I wanted as long as I could get someone to take over the business for however long was needed.

We'd agreed when he left for the first time after my move, that we wouldn't go more than a month without seeing each other. It was long enough so that our reunions were the hottest thing in the universe, and not so long that we both turned into those lovesick morons that made us roll our eyes.

Love, at least our version of love, was little things. Intangible things. It was laughs and our three turtles named Mercury, Frank and Bumblebee. It was playing soccer at the park by our apartment, going for runs and trying to trip each other during them, and it was our video chats when we were on different continents. It was compromises and separation from each other, and in my case, from my family, the baboons and Laila.

But I loved him and for us to be together, it was nothing.