Текст книги "The Ever After of Ella and Micha"
Автор книги: Jessica Sorensen
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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 14 страниц)
Epilogue
Two months later…
Ella
“Wake up, beautiful,” Micha says as he breathes in my ear and presses his warm body up against mine.
“No way,” I mutter, burying my face into a pillow as I draw the sheet over my naked body. “I’m too tired.”
“Come on, pretty girl. I have a surprise for you.” He places a delicate kiss against my neck, slipping his tongue out along my skin before rolling away from me. “Come on, it’ll be worth it. I promise.” I hear him walk away toward the bathroom. “I’m going to go take a shower. Be ready to go somewhere by the time I get out.” Moments later the door shuts and the shower turns on.
I lie in bed for a while, telling myself that I’m not going to get up because I’m too damn tired from all the other mornings he’s woken me up this same way. It’s become a tradition. He finds a way to surprise me, whether it’s taking me out to breakfast or waking my body up with his tongue.
I finally give in and force myself to open my eyes because I have a hard time saying no to Micha. The sunlight sparkles through the window as I stretch my arms and climb out of bed. I pull a short, black dress out of my suitcase and put it on and then side-braid my hair and secure it with an elastic. After I slip on my sandals, I sink down on the bed and wait for him to get out while I stare at the rings on my fingers. Even two months later, I still can’t help but smile when I see them there, marking one of the best days of my life. The day I told Micha how I truly felt, the day he conclusively became mine. We kissed and danced a lot that day, to a list of songs that made an appearance in our history. It was beautiful and magical and really sappy, but all weddings are. Afterward, we spent hours having sex until I felt like my body was going to break apart. It was amazing and exhausting—everything still is amazing and exhausting. And then we packed up our stuff and headed back home to start our life, but not after Micha made us stop by Mikey’s house so he could slash his tires, like I promised him he could.
We’ve been on the road for a little over a month now and it’s been an adventure. Micha was given the option of riding the bus with a few other musicians, but because we missed our honeymoon, he decided that we could at least have a road trip so we’re traveling across the country in the Chevelle, making it our goal to have sex in every state. So far we’ve gotten up to sixteen, but after tonight it’ll be seventeen.
After a while, Micha comes walking out with a towel in his hand, looking gorgeous and sexy in a red plaid shirt that he hasn’t buttoned yet so I get a glimpse of his muscles. His jeans ride low on his hips and my body burns as I look at him, thinking about the many times he’s used those hips to thrust into me. His hair is wet and flipped at the ends and I bite my lip, wanting to run my fingers through it.
“I’m so happy right now that I think there might be something wrong with me,” I divulge and he snorts a laugh as he balls up the towel and tosses it onto the hotel room floor.
“There’s nothing wrong with being happy, pretty girl,” he says, as he ruffles his blond hair into place. “It’s good that you’re happy.”
“I know that.” I stand up and help him button up his plaid shirt while he continues to fuss with his hair. “I hope you are, too, though.”
His brows knit as he glances down at me, his aqua eyes burning with intensity. “Of course I’m happy. You’re here with me.”
“You know, if your fans knew you talked like that, they’d go even more wild for you.”
“No, they’d probably laugh,” he says with a shrug. “But I really don’t care what they think. Only you.”
“Not the female ones.” I do up the last button and then link my arms around the back of his neck, standing on my tiptoes. “Okay, where are you taking me today, because I’m dying to know.”
“It’s a surprise,” he says, then grabs my hand and tugs me toward the door.
“You say that every day.” I pout as he slips his shoes on.
He grins at me as he picks up my sketchbook and drawing pencil from the dresser. “I know, and that pouty look that you always get on your face when I won’t tell you makes it so much fun.”
“Why are you grabbing that?” I nod at the sketchbook, closing the door behind us as we step out into the hallway.
“Because you’re going to need it,” he says, leading me down the hallway.
I sigh and follow him down the stairs and out to the car. We climb in, he starts the engine, and then he drives down the highway, heading out of town. We’re in South Caroline right now, so even though it’s February, the air is warm and the humidity makes my skin sticky, especially because we have the windows down. The ocean’s pretty close by, the sand golden, the sky blue, and it makes my hands itch for the pencil and sketchbook Micha has in his lap.
When he finally stops the car, we’re parked in front of a field covered in luscious grass and bushes. There’s also this lofty tree in the center, by itself, some of the branches stretching toward the sky and others drooping toward the ground. It kind of reminds me of the tree back at home for some reason and it dawns on me why he might have brought me here.
Micha grins as he slips the keys out of the ignition. “So when you said you wanted to come on the road with me, you said you’d love to spend your time drawing things that mean something to you, along with that tree I always used to climb up to get to you. Well, since that very meaningful tree is far, far away right now, I thought maybe you could draw this.” He gestures at the field. “I found this field the other day when I was driving back from practice, searching for something that you could draw because I know you’ve been wanting to do a meaningful landscape drawing. The tree kind of reminded me of the one back home, at least I think so, but then again I’m no artist.” He pauses, waiting eagerly for my response.
I think I might have fallen in love with him even more. I didn’t think that was possible, but every day the love I have for Micha grows stronger, especially when he does stuff like this for me.
I lean over the console toward him. “I love you,” I say, unable to help myself. “And I love the tree.”
“I love you, too,” he says and then he kisses me. By the time we stop for air, we’re both breathless and I’ve managed to climb over the console and onto his lap and his shirt’s unbuttoned… I don’t even know how it happened.
His hands are under my dress, grabbing at my flesh as he stares at me a little dazed. “So are you going to draw the tree?”
“Of course, but after I draw you first,” I say. “Because you mean more to me than anything else in the world.”
“But don’t you have a ton of drawings of me already?”
“Yeah, but I don’t have one with you sitting under this tree.”
“You have to be tired of drawing me, though.”
I shake my head. “No way. I will never get tired of you. Ever.”
“No matter how many times you say that, I will never get tired of hearing it,” he admits, and then a thoughtful expression rises on his face “So me under the tree, huh? That’s your meaningful drawing?”
“I think it is,” I say, and then we kiss for a little bit longer before we climb out of the car and walk toward the tree, happy, peaceful, and content as we live out our forever just how we want to—together.
About the Author
The New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Jessica Sorensen lives with her husband and three kids. When she’s not writing, she spends her time reading and hanging out with her family.
Learn more at:
jessicasorensensblog.blogspot.com
@jessFallenStar
http://facebook.com/JessicaSorensensAdultContemporaryNovels
