His arms tighten around me when he feels my shoulders shaking from the tears making their way out of my eyes. His lips meet the top of my head, and he inhales a steady breath as he kisses me, long and hard.
"I'm sorry it took me so long," he says with a voice full of remorse. "But I'll never be able to thank you enough for not giving up on me. You saw something in me that gave you hope in us, and you didn't give up on that. And Tate? That means more to me than anything anyone's ever done."
His hands meet my cheeks, and he lifts me away from his chest so he can see me face-to-face. "It may be a small piece at a time, but my past is yours now. All of it. Anything you want to know, I want to tell you. But only if you promise me I can also have your future."
The tears cascade down my cheeks, and he wipes them away, even though I don't need him to. I don't care that I'm crying, because they aren't sad tears. Not in the least.
We kiss for so long my mouth starts to hurt as much as my heart. My heart isn't hurting from pain this time, though. It hurts because it's never felt this full.
I trace my fingers across the scar on his jaw, knowing he'll eventually tell me how he got it. I also touch the tender area beneath his eye, relieved that I can finally ask him questions without being scared I'll upset him.
"What happened to your eye?"
He laughs and lets his head fall back against the couch. "I had to ask Corbin for your address. He gave it to me, but it took a lot of convincing."
I immediately lean forward and gently kiss his eye. "I can't believe he hit you."
"Not the first time," he admits. "But I'm pretty sure it'll be the last. I think he's finally okay with us being together after I agreed to a few of his rules."
This makes me nervous. "What rules?"
"Well, for one, I'm not allowed to break your heart," he says. "Second, I'm also not allowed to break your damn heart. And last, I'm not allowed to fucking break your damn heart."
I can't contain my laughter, because that sounds exactly like something Corbin would say to him. Miles laughs with me, and we take each other in for several quiet moments. I can see everything in his eyes now. Every single emotion.
"Miles," I say with a smile, "you're looking at me like you fell in love with me."
He shakes his head. "I didn't fall in love with you, Tate. I flew."
He pulls me back to him and gives me the only part of himself that he's never been able to give me until now.
His heart.
chapter thirty-nine
MILES
I stand in the doorway of my bedroom and watch her sleep. She doesn't know it, but I do this every morning she's here with me. She's what starts my day off right.
The first time I did this was the morning after I met her. I couldn't remember much from the night before. The only thing I remembered was her. I was on the couch, and she was stroking my hair, whispering, telling me to go to sleep. When I woke up in Corbin's apartment the next morning, I couldn't get her out of my head. I thought she had been a dream until I saw her purse in the living room.
I peeked inside her bedroom just to see if anyone was in the apartment with me. What I felt the moment I laid eyes on her was something I hadn't felt since the moment I first laid eyes on Rachel.
I felt like I was floating. Her skin and her hair and her lips and the way she looked like an angel while I stood there and watched her brought back so many feelings that had become foreign to me over the past six years.
I had gone so long refusing to allow myself to feel anything for anyone.
Not that I could have controlled the feelings I was experiencing toward Tate that day. I couldn't control them if I'd wanted to.
I know, because I tried.
I tried like hell.
But the second she opened her eyes and looked at me, I knew. She was either going to be the death of me . . . or she was going to be the one who finally brought me back to life.
The only problem I had with that was the fact that I didn't want to be brought back to life. I was comfortable. Protecting myself from the possibility of experiencing what I had experienced in the past was my only priority. However, there were so many moments when I forgot what my only priority was supposed to be.
When I finally caved and kissed her, that was the point at which everything changed. I wanted so much more after experiencing that kiss with her. I wanted her mouth and her body and her mind, and the only reason I stopped was that I felt myself also wanting her heart. I was good at lying to myself, though. Convincing myself that I was strong enough to have her physically and no other way. I didn't want to get hurt again, and I sure as hell didn't want to hurt her.
I did anyway, though. I hurt her so much. More than once. Now I plan to spend a lifetime making it up to her.
I walk to my bed and sit on the edge of it. She feels the bed shift, and she opens her eyes but not all the way. A hint of a smile plays on her lips before she pulls the covers over her head and rolls over.
We officially began dating six months ago, and that's been plenty long enough for me to realize she's not at all a morning person. I lean forward and kiss the area of blanket covering up her ear.
"Wake up, sleepyhead," I whisper.
She groans, so I lift the covers up and slide in behind her, wrapping myself around her. Her groan eventually turns into a soft moan.
"Tate, you need to get up. We have a plane to catch."
That gets her attention.
She rolls over cautiously and pulls the covers from over our heads. "What the hell do you mean we have a plane to catch?"
I'm grinning, trying to contain my anticipation. "Get up, get dressed, let's go."
She's eyeing me suspiciously, which makes total sense, considering it's not even five o'clock in the morning yet. "I know you know how rare it is for me to have an entire day off, so this better be worth it."
I laugh and give her a quick kiss. "That all depends on our ability to be punctual." I stand up and pat the mattress several times with the palms of my hands. "So get up, get up, get up."
She laughs and throws the covers off of her completely. She scoots to the edge of the bed, and I help her stand up. "It's hard to stay irritated with you when you're this giddy, Miles."
*
We reach the lobby, and Cap is waiting at the elevator just as I asked him to. He has her juice in a to-go cup and our breakfast. I love the relationship they have. I was a little worried to reveal to Tate that I had known Cap all my life. When I finally told her, she was irritated with both of us. Mostly because she assumed Cap was telling me everything she confessed to him.
I assured her Cap wouldn't do that.
I know he wouldn't, because Cap is one of the few people in this world I trust.
He knew just the right things to say to me without appearing as though he were lecturing me or giving me advice. He'd always say just enough to make me think long and hard about my situation with Tate. Luckily, he's one of the few people who grow wiser with age. He knew what he was doing with both of us all along.
"Morning, Tate," he says to her, grinning from ear to ear. He holds out his arm for her to take, and she looks back and forth between us.
"What's going on?" she asks Cap as he begins to walk her toward the lobby exit.
He smiles. "The boy is about to take me on my first-ever ride in an airplane. I wanted you to come along, too."
She tells him she doesn't believe this is his first time in an airplane.
"It's true," he says. "Just 'cause I have the moniker don't mean I've ever been on a real plane."
The look of appreciation she shoots me over her shoulder is enough to declare this day one of my favorites, and it's not even daylight yet.
*
"You okay back there, Cap?" I say into the headset. He's seated right behind Tate, staring out his window. He gives me a thumbs-up but doesn't take his eyes off the window. The sun hasn't even broken through the clouds yet, and there's not very much to see at this point. We've o
nly been in the plane ten minutes, but I'm pretty sure he's just as fascinated and mesmerized as I hoped he would be.
I return my attention to the controls until I reach optimal altitude, and then I mute Cap's headset. I glance at Tate, and she's staring at me, watching me with an appreciative smile spread across her lips.
"Want to know why we're here?" I ask her.
She glances over her shoulder at Cap and then looks back at me. "Because he's never done this before."
I shake my head, timing it just right. "Remember the day we were driving back from your parents' house after Thanksgiving?"
She nods, but her eyes are curious now.
"You asked what it was like to experience the sunrise from up here. It's not something that can be described, Tate." I point out her window. "You just have to experience it for yourself."
She immediately turns and looks out her window. Her palms press against the glass, and for five minutes straight, she doesn't move a muscle. She watches it the entire time, and I don't know how, but I fall even more in love with her in this moment.
When the sun has broken through the clouds and the airplane is completely filled with sunlight, she finally turns back to face me. Her eyes are filled with tears, and she doesn't speak a word. She just reaches for my hand and holds it.
*
"Wait here," I tell her. "I want to help Cap out first. A driver is taking him back to the apartment, because you and I are going to breakfast after this."
She tells Cap good-bye and waits patiently in the plane as I help him down the steps. He reaches into his pocket and hands me the boxes, then flashes me one of his approving smiles. I shove the boxes into the pocket of my jacket and turn back toward the steps.
"Hey, boy!" Cap yells, right before climbing into the car. I pause and turn around to face him. He looks at the plane behind me. "Thank you," he says, waving his hand down the length of the plane. "For this."
I nod, but he disappears inside the vehicle before I can tell him thank you in return.
I climb back up the steps and into the plane. She's unbuckling her safety belt, getting prepared to exit the plane, but I slide back into my seat.
She smiles at me warmly. "You're incredible, Miles Mikel Archer. And I have to say, you look pretty damn hot flying an airplane. We should do this more often."
She gives me a quick peck on the mouth and begins to get up out of her seat.
I push her back down. "We're not finished," I say, turning and facing her full on. I take her hands in mine and look down at them, inhaling slowly, preparing to say everything she deserves to hear. "That day you asked me about watching the sunrise?" I look her in the eyes again. "I need to thank you for that. It was the first moment in more than six years I felt like I wanted to love someone again."
She blows out a quick breath with her smile and pulls in her bottom lip to try to hide it. I lift a hand to her face and pull her lip out from beneath her teeth with the pressure of my thumb. "I told you not to do that. I love your smile almost as much as I love you."
I lean forward to kiss her again, but I keep my eyes open so I can make sure that I'm retrieving the black box first. When I have it in my hand, I stop kissing her and pull away. Her eyes fall to the box and immediately grow wide, moving back and forth between the box and my face. Her hand comes up to her mouth, and she covers her gasp.
"Miles," she says, continuing to trade glances between me and the box in my hands.
I cut her off. "It's not what you think," I say, immediately opening the box to reveal the key. "It's kind of not what you think," I hesitantly add.
Her eyes are wide and hopeful, and I'm relieved by her reaction. I can tell by her smile that she wants this.
I pull the key out and flip her hand over, then place it in her palm. She stares at the key for several seconds and looks back up at me. "Tate," I say, looking at her with hope. "Will you move in with me?"
She looks down at the key one more time, then says two words that bring an immediate smile to my face.
Hell and yes.
I lean forward and kiss her. Our legs and arms and mouths become two pieces of a puzzle, fitting together effortlessly. She winds up in my lap, straddling me in the cockpit of the airplane.
It's cramped and tight.
It's perfect.
"I'm not a very good cook, though," she warns. "And you do laundry way better than I do. I just throw all the whites and colors together. And you know I'm not very nice in the morning." She's holding my face, spouting off every warning she can, as if I don't know what I'm getting myself into.
"Listen, Tate," I tell her. "I want your mess. I want your clothes on my bedroom floor. I want your toothbrush in my bathroom. I want your shoes in my closet. I want your mediocre leftovers in my fridge."
She laughs at that.
"Oh, and I almost forgot," I say, pulling the other box from my pocket. I hold it up between us and open it, revealing the ring. "I also want you in my future. Forever."
Her mouth is open in shock, and she's staring at the ring. She's frozen. I hope she doesn't have doubts, because I have absolutely none when it comes to wanting to spend the rest of my life with her. I know it's only been six months, but when you know, you know.
Her silence makes me nervous, so I quickly remove the ring and pick up her hand. "Will you break rule number two with me, Tate? Because I really want to marry you."
She doesn't even have to say yes. Her tears and her kiss and her laugh say it for her.
She pulls back and looks at me with so much love and appreciation it makes my chest hurt.
She's absolutely beautiful. Her hope is beautiful. The smile on her face is beautiful. The tears streaming down her cheeks are beautiful.
Her
love
is
beautiful.
She exhales a soft breath and leans in slowly, gently pressing
her lips to mine. Her kiss is filled with tenderness and affection
and an unspoken promise that she's mine now.
Forever.
"Miles," she whispers against my mouth, teasing my lips with
hers. "I've never made love in an airplane before."
A smile immediately forms on my lips. It's as if she somehow
infiltrated my thoughts.
"I've never made love to my fiancee before," I say in response.
Her hands slowly slide down my neck and shirt until her
fingers meet the button on my jeans.
"Well, I think we need to rectify that," she says, ending her
sentence with a kiss.
When her mouth meets mine again, it's as if every last piece of
my armor disintegrates and every last piece of ice surrounding
the glacier that was my heart melts and evaporates.
Whoever coined the phrase, I love you to death obviously never
experienced the kind of love Tate and I share.
If that were the case, the phrase would be I love you to life.
Because that's exactly what Tate did.
She loved me back to life.
The
end.
EPILOGUE
I think back to the day I married her.
It was one of the best days of my life.
I remember standing next to Ian and Corbin at the end of the aisle. We were waiting for her to walk through the doors when Corbin leaned over and whispered something to me.
He said, "You're the only one who could have ever met my standards for her, Miles. I'm happy it's you."
I was happy it was me, too.
That was more than two years ago, and every day since then, I've somehow fallen in love with her a little bit more.
Or flew, rather.
I didn't cry the day I married her, though.
Her tears were
falling
falling
falling
that day,
but mine weren't.
I was convinced they never w
ould.
Not in the way I wished they could.
It was eight months ago when we found out we were having a baby.
We weren't trying to have a baby, but we also weren't not
trying.
"If it happens it happens," Tate said.
It happened.
When we found out, we were both excited.
She cried.
Her tears were
falling
falling
falling,
but mine weren't.
As excited as I was, I was also scared.
I was scared of the fear that comes along with loving someone that much.
Scared of everything bad that could happen.
I was scared that my memories would take away from the day I became a father again.
Well, it just happened.
And I'm still scared.
Terrified.
"It's a girl," the doctor says.
A girl.
We just had a baby girl.
I just became a father again.
Tate just became a mother.
Feel something, Miles.
Tate looks up at me.
I know she can see the fear in my eyes. I also know how much pain she's in right now, but she still somehow manages a smile.
"Sam," she whispers, saying her name out loud for the first time. Tate insisted we name her Sam in honor of Cap's real name, Samuel.
I wouldn't have had it any other way.
The nurse walks over to Tate and lays Sam in her arms.
Tate begins to cry.
My eyes are still dry.
I'm still too scared to look away from Tate and down at our daughter.
I'm not afraid of what I'll feel when I look at her.
I'm afraid of what I won't feel.
I'm terrified my past experiences have ruined any ability I have to feel what every father should feel in this moment.
"Come here," Tate says, wanting me closer.
I sit down next to them on the bed.
She hands Sam to me, and my hands are shaking, but I take her anyway.