27 - My Little Secret

27

My Little Secret

" I 'm almost done," I say, running the product through my curls one last time when Isaiah appears behind me in the mirror.

He leans against the wall, ready to go aside from the fact that his shirt remains unbuttoned and the black ink is visible on his brown skin. It's proven to be quite the distraction.

Isaiah steps closer. "No rush. I'm enjoying the show."

I pull out the diffuser I've now started keeping here—along with a few hangers in his closet and a drawer and a bag in his bathroom. The sound overpowers the music playing, and Isaiah watches as I roam it around, fluffing my hair as I go with the gentle heat. When it's enough, I shut it off.

Before I can do it myself, his hands are in my hair. "I love your hair like this." And to my surprise, he fluffs it exactly as I would, tugging a few curls as he sees fit, but I'm too entranced by his hands in my hair and how good it feels. He plops a kiss on my cheek and taps my butt.

"You look gorgeous. Get dressed, and let's go."

"Bossy." I raise a brow in the mirror, touching up the gloss on my lips. He watches the movement.

"If we don't leave now, we never will, and I'll personally drag you into bed," he says, beginning to button his shirt, which makes me pout. "No. No pouting at me. Or we will really never leave." Isaiah presses this thumb to my lips, and my tongue gently taps it. His brown eyes turn molten, and I can't help but smile.

I run a hand over his chest as I exit, dragging my fingers over the skin before it disappears, and wiggle my eyebrows playfully. Quickly, I slip my dress over my trusty, athletic spandex that are required under any dress, and the brown fabric contrasts my skin and sticks to my curves.

"Jesus Christ," Isaiah muses from the doorway, his eyes taking a slow path over my body. "We have to leave. Now."

I smile, enjoying the power he gives me, whether he's aware of it or not. "I'm coming, I promise." I search for my shoes in the midst of my stuff and slip them on. Every second that passes, the heat from his gaze singes my skin. Moments later, we're heading out the door, my jacket draped over my arms, and on the way to the restaurant for Mr. Birthday Boy.

"Oh, no."

"What?" He looks over at me, hand squeezing my thigh.

"Everyone is going to learn that you're younger than me. What if they call me a cougar?"

Isaiah snorts. "It's three months, Aurora."

"Have you met Maazina?"

"Fair enough."

Smiling, I turn up the music and sit back, tracing my finger over his knuckles and the ink on the back of his hand. Little does he know, being late was absolutely on purpose. I had excuses lined up if needed, but it worked out in our favor. We're having dinner at a bar similar to our air hockey bar. Only this one has much more than just air hockey… It has ski-ball, pool, darts, pinball, and so many others. And I rented the entire thing out.

We park quickly and approach the restaurant, which appears as if it's open as usual. When we walk inside, a big cacophony of voices shouts, "Happy birthday!", and surprise flickers over Isaiah's face. He gives my hand a squeeze, and I smile up at him.

"Happy birthday."

I was nervous about this because I know he hasn't made many friendships of his own here yet, so once he invited the idiot brigade, I took over planning. It's my family and friends, but I wanted him to know they're his, too. There's a cake on the bar top that I had made and a personalized menu for his birthday for drinks and food. And the restaurant has a photobooth, which I prepaid for.

"You didn't have to do all this, Ro," Isaiah murmurs, a hint of insecurity in his eyes. Like he doesn't deserve it.

"I wanted to. First birthday together again. I wanted to make it special." I squeeze his hand, my thumb running over our birthday tattoo.

We approach, and not only does Maazina have on a plastic party hat but also a kazoo that she blows way too loudly, hand in hand with Joey and Zaza, who have also been given said kazoos. "Ready," she says to the kids, and they grin. "Happy birthday, Isaiah!"

He grins and immediately opens his arms for the girls. With full arms, he still finds a way to somehow hug Maazina. "Thank you."

She winks at me. "Of course." It thrills me how much she has welcomed him in. It's a small group, but they all come forward and wish him happy birthday. Maazina threads her arm with mine, resting her head on my shoulder. "I can't believe how pretty he is, and you , of all people, got him."

"I resent you," I say, though it's a moot point when I laugh anyway.

"Seriously, what kind of deals did you and Soph make with the devil?" Maazina's eyes flicker between Isaiah and Kian. "They're fucking beautiful. It's not fair."

"Your crush on Kian is deeply unsettling."

"Oh, get over it." Maazina sighs, and I watch Sophia and Kian, hand in hand, talking to Isaiah. "I just want my own unfairly beautiful man. Is that too much to ask for?"

"Not at all." There's no one more deserving of love than Maazina after all she's been through. After the obvious, Maazina is the person I'd lay my life down for. I want her to be happy like I want the sun to keep rising.

She turns her eyes up at me. "Are you going to become all optimistic and sappy now?"

I snort. "No."

"Good. You optimistic would be…weird."

Sylvia and Viv are talking to him now, along with my mom. It's funny; he looks shy now with all the attention. A nice reminder that I get the full, unfiltered version of him.

"Can I be sappy for a minute?" Maazina asks, leading us to the open bar to grab drinks.

"By all means."

"It's funny watching you two interact with each other versus other people."

"How so?" I take a sip of my requested apple juice.

"Obviously, I've only seen tidbits, but you guys both come alive with each other. Not that you aren't with us, but you're lighter with him. More open. You laugh more. Like you suddenly feel like you don't have to be on guard with the rest of the world. And he's the same. I've never seen him look shy with you—not like he does right now. But when it's you two, you both come alive."

Pretty sure my heart grows three sizes. At that exact moment, he looks over his shoulder at me with a soft smile.

"Good God, you two make me sick." Maazina downs her drink. "I love it."

I clear my throat. "Thank you for that."

Maazina rests on my shoulder. "You deserve to be happy. You know that, right?" I hum, not willing to answer. "And I'm happy he's back. I know it was hard, but God, you love him. I'm happy the person you love gives you the safety to be soft."

In response to her words, my throat tightens. I haven't told Isaiah I love him yet. He hasn't said anything since the carnival. Obviously, I love him, but I've been fearful to admit that I love him. You know? That I was in love with him. That I'm not sure I ever stopped being in love with him.

Isaiah stands in the center of the room. Looking at him here and now, it sinks in. How deep it goes. Each of our roots intertwined with each other at such a young age. Underneath the layers of who we are individually is a layer made up of who we are together. There is no undoing them, no untangling the roots beneath the soil. Not without ripping out pieces of who we are in the process.

I thought—hoped—that the love would fade away. That if I couldn't have him, I wouldn't be reminded of that every single day. I succeeded in acting like it was. In pushing it down and burying it. But I know it never left. The love I had for him was a part of who I was, and I would've recognized the void if that root had died.

Instead, I simply acted as if a part of me didn't exist.

But no matter how hard I tried, the moment he came back and every moment since, that part of me has rebloomed and demanded to be seen. It sounds fucking ridiculous, I know, but nothing else makes sense.

A part of me came back to life when he came back into mine.

I don't think either of us is the other's moon and stars. We aren't these grand things that came and changed the course of our lives. We are just two halves of a whole. Two kids that grew up together and whose lives became so intertwined, there was no use in trying to separate them.

When he was gone, it was like missing a puzzle piece. A piece that found its spot immediately upon return. Flowers that had been living in a drought were watered again.

We are whatever the other person needs. A grounding force in a crowded room. A safety net when fear becomes overwhelming. A life vest on a rough sea. A light in the dark. For me, Isaiah is everything in one. Home, safety, friendship. Love.

I could've spent years searching for it—searching for a house to call home—but it would've been like haunting the hallways instead.

Maybe it's na?ve to think I never would've gotten over Isaiah, but it's honest. It's a truth I feel down to my bones. Days and months and years could've passed, and it might have gotten easier to ignore the sharp pains when I thought of him, but they never would've stopped. I would've only been able to share minute pieces of myself, a shallow version that offered nothing of substance or sense of permanence.

It wouldn't have been fair to others, and it wouldn't have been fair to myself.

Isaiah meets my eyes, and something settles within. As if my heart was holding its breath and got to exhale. Heat spreads out from my veins to the tips of my fingers—a warm embrace on a cold night.

Even from a distance, I see it reflected in those gorgeous, brown eyes. In the softness that comes over his features when he looks at me. It's a strange feeling, looking at someone and knowing they love you back. There is always fear there. That maybe the love isn't as full or it's a different shape, but with Isaiah…the reward is worth the risk. I know Isaiah loves me as I love him.

"There is more sap in your eyes than in a goddamn maple tree," Maazina muses.

If anyone can break me out of a reverie, it's her. "I hope you plan on donating your brain to science one day."

She grabs another drink. "I do."

We gravitate toward the center, and Isaiah is next to me in the next breath, his hand immediately finding my hip, our bodies pressed together. Maazina raises a brow at us but says nothing. Everyone is chatting with one other. Kian is playing one of the games with the girls, and Isaiah and I have a moment of just us.

"Can I have a sip?"

I hold out my drink. "It's apple juice."

"I expected nothing less."

Though other people are around, it doesn't feel like it. When he's finished, Isaiah moves closer, giving me a sweet kiss. He tastes like apple juice and Isaiah. Safe and warm.

Against my lips, he murmurs, "I thought you weren't going to kiss me in public anymore."

I did say that. What a shame. I've been blinded and eaten alive by how in love with him I am. Disgusting. "Well, we all say things we don't mean sometimes." I peck him with three soft kisses before pulling back.

Isaiah turns to me, and I see so much reflected in the encompassing brown of his eyes. A twinkle, as silly as that sounds. He looks at me like I'm his whole world. The sureness in his gaze is overwhelming, stealing my air the longer I'm entranced. Six years without him was hard. So much was happening in my career that I was proud of, excelling in, yet the entire time, the ground underneath me felt unsteady. Being here with him again has carefully filled every crack in the ground, given me a solid path to walk on, and to be able to do that without fear that it's going to fall away again.

"Hm. Give me another one." His hand presses into the small of my back, leaning in and nudging my cheek with my nose. I'm overwhelmed at the affection that emanates from him flawlessly. Of course, I give in—there are no conditions required, no hoops to jump through for him.

Against his lips, I murmur, "Happy birthday, Isaiah. I'm happy you're here."

Here with me. Here by my side.

Isaiah exhales. "Me, too." He pulls back enough to look me in the eyes. They're full of life and warmth. They, much like the rest of him, feel like home. "You're the best gift I could've gotten."

Just like that, my heart locks itself away in his hands and throws out the key. And that's exactly where it belongs.

The city skyline shines in the distance, cool air wrapping around us as it whips through the grass. Isaiah's party was a success. He smiled the entire time—even when we all sang "Happy Birthday" with his mom on facetime. I love seeing him happy, surrounded by people that have known him, and people that are getting to know him and beginning to love him.

Underneath us, the blanket crinkles as I adjust on my stomach, resting my face in my palm.

Between us is dessert from the party—also containing the famous chocolate cake. Music hums from the tiny speaker Isaiah pulled out of his car. Above us, stars twinkle in the sky, visible out here away from the bright, city lights.

"Favorite part of the day?" I ask. "Besides me, of course."

Isaiah chuckles. "Kian getting a cupcake shoved in his face by his daughters."

Chocolate melts on my tongue. "Those girls are going to give him hell."

"Yeah, I wonder where they learned that from."

"If you are implying that Sophia and I are anything other than perfect angels, I'll shove a cupcake in your face."

"Would never." Isaiah fixes me with a gentle look. "Besides, you said it yourself. You were the best part of my day. Start to finish."

Leaning over, I brush a crumb of chocolate from above his lip, and he catches my thumb with his teeth. A steady pulse thrums through my blood. "Flattery isn't needed here, Isaiah."

"I like to see you flustered."

Isaiah pushes the desserts out the way and crawls over to me. "What are you doing?"

"You're too far away," he says, settling on top of me. My hips bracket him in, his forearms resting near my head—just enough of him on me that I feel his weight.

I hope we can always be this close.

Reaching up, I run a finger over his jaw, down his neck, and find the ink on his skin. Isaiah leans into the touch, a soft sigh escaping his lips. "Earlier, when I said you were the best gift I could've gotten, I meant it." Our chests brush on my inhale. "You are that and much more, Aurora. To me, you're everything."

"Isaiah—"

"Let me finish." A quick kiss has me agreeing, not that I wouldn't have anyway. "You are at the center of my life. Everything I do, everything I dream of in the future, has you front and center. From the moment I came back, I was not going to settle for a life without you in it. Because a life without you isn't a life I'm interested in."

Every word is punctuated by the steady beat of his heart against mine. The movement of his chest against mine, his body against mine. Thankfully, the weight keeps me in the moment and not floating off into oblivion.

"Aurora Jade," he murmurs against my lips. Around us, the air is statically charged. A tiny flame from a match could set it on fire.

"I've been fighting against telling you this already so soon, but I don't know why. You are the light of my life. The sunrise in the morning and the sunset in the evening. You are every moment in between—from the minute to the grand, you are in every detail of my life. "

Our foreheads touch, and the depth of my heart expands, carefully latching onto every word he says and tucking it away in the crevices. Isaiah never stops looking at me. Not for a second.

"I've wanted to tell you the moment I saw you. even though you were hurt and furious, I wanted to say it. To make up for the time I put between us."

I'm caged in by him, his arms resting near my head, fingers trailing over the curls near my ears. By his body pressed against mine and wrapped up in the gentleness and heartbreaking tenderness of what he's saying. What I think he's about to say.

"I love you, Aurora. And it's about time you know it."

Like the deep-down sap I am, I can't help the few tears that fall. Tears that Isaiah kisses away.

It's not the first time he's said it. At the carnival, he told me he'd never loved anyone like he did me, but this…it's different.

This is everything he didn't say.

"I've loved you since we were little kids and you punched that boy for breaking my glasses," he says, his lips turning up. "I have loved you every day for as long as I can remember. Walking to school together, watching you play. Growing up with you. You cemented yourself in my life a long time ago, and you never left."

My voice is wet when I say, "Isaiah, you're killing me." I brush my thumb over his lips.

He nips it with his teeth. "Shut up and let me then."

I chuckle as more tears fall, heat unfurling over my skin like petals in the sun.

"I'll never forget the day I realized I was in love with you for the first time. You just finished a rain game, and you came off the field with this smile on your face. Your cheeks were flushed, and I just remember you being so alive. It was such a simple moment but something so integral to who you are, and I fell in love before I even knew what love really was. I have fallen in love with you over and over again since that moment. With the way you are so strong and steady for the people in your life, your unfailing determination, your kindness. Your vulnerability that not many people get to see. Your stubbornness, your playfulness. The way you love people."

Boy, oh boy, do I want to fucking die. But like floating up on a cloud die. That doesn't make sense, but I stopped thinking straight moments ago.

"I have fallen in love with every aspect of you multiple times. And every time, I get to discover something new. It never gets old. Falling in love with you is like discovering new constellations. But one that only I can see. Every freckle, every scar, the varying degrees of your laughter, the inflection in your voice when you're teasing me, the blush on your cheeks at all times. Each part of you is a star in my constellation. It makes me obsessive."

"You're so dramatic," I say, though it comes out like a sob.

Isaiah smiles softly, his brown eyes a direct line to his heart, and there is so much love there. I feel like I'm drowning in it, yet in the next second, he's the oxygen that saves me.

"And you are the love of my life."

His hands push my curls away from my face, and he dots kisses over the entirety of my face. Even the tears that will not stop falling. When my brain starts working again, my arms wrap around him, and with a firm hold, I pull him fully on top of me. I don't need real air. I need him.

Isaiah's answering chuckle vibrates against my body as our lips touch. The salt from my tears mixes in, but it doesn't stop him. Doesn't stop his tongue from swiping over my lips or his hands from holding me tight.

My heart wants to burst out of my chest. I do love him. So much. Yet there is still a part of me that is scared to say it out loud. Scared that if I admit how in love with him—how pathetically, irreversibly in love with him I am—the world will take it away from me. So, I show him as best I can. With hands that are begging him to never let me go and kisses that I hope tell him how desperate I am for him.

Another sob breaks through, and I pull back to inhale.

"I know, baby." Isaiah brushes another tear. He rolls us over, cradling my knee as he does so, and pulls me into his chest. For moments, I stay there, cradled in his arms, letting him know me better than I know myself.

I blow a raspberry when I'm able to breathe again. From this angle, I look down at him, my lips finally turning up into a smile.

A strong hand squeezes the back of my thigh. "There's my Aurora." From the back of my thigh, his hand starts a slow crawl upward over my spine until it lands at the base of my neck. "I love that you let me see this. Given how much you like to act impenetrable, I'm grateful that I get to see this. Your feelings out in the open."

"Don't tell anyone." Our lips brush when I speak, and heat flares in his eyes.

"Wouldn't dream of it. It's my little secret."

"So much of me is." A kiss seals my words between us. Nobody gets me like he does. There's an intimacy between us that doesn't exist with anyone else.

Parts of me that belong only to him.

With my hands cupping his cheeks, my thumbs brush under his eyes, and I whisper against his lips, "I'm all yours, Isaiah."