My heart swells as Mickey rolls us over, positioning me on top of him so there isn’t an inch of space between us. Then he kisses me like there is nothing else in this world or the next that he’d rather be doing.
We hold each other, letting the moment stretch on. I realize another truth: we bring out the best and the worst in each other, but the only time we can breathe is when we’re together. With all the darkness in our past, our love story is as cheesy as it is cliché, because nothing else matters as long as we’re with each other.
Chapter 33
ISABELLA
“I want to show you something.”
I blink up at Mickey, wanting to stay like this for an eternity. “What is it?”
A lopsided grin splits across his face. “It's a surprise.”
I groan.
“Hey,” he argues. “When have I ever done a shitty surprise?”
He has a point; I’ll give him that. “Remember when I was eight, you caught a mouse for me, and I needed a tetanus shot because it bit me.”
“I was ten years old,” he protests, then says under his breath, “I can’t believe you still remember that.”
I bite the inside of my lip and plant a kiss on his chest. “You should have been more specific in your question then.”
“Here we go.”
Hitting his chest playfully, I let him slip out of the sheets and into his pants. I follow suit, running across the room to fight the chill and jump into some warmer clothes. “No blindfolds this time,” I say.
He curses. I snap my head around to him, and he winks at me with a smirk drawn across his face. “I’m willing to negotiate.”
Taking Mickey’s outstretched hand, he leads me into the motel’s corridor with peeling wallpaper and spiderwebs decorating the edging.
“Should I be scared?” I ask, hugging his arm.
My body flushes with warmth when he kisses my forehead. “Never.”
“Not even a little?”
“Shut up, Bella.”
I giggle as I squeeze his arm tighter, refusing to let go when we reach the stairs.
Mickey smirks. “About the blindfold… how off the table is it?”
My skin blazes when someone walks past, and I hiss, “We’re in public.”
“Are you trying to change my mind? Baby girl, the thought of fucking you raw in front of other people makes me crazy.”
“What?” I squeak, hiding behind my unmade hair.
“Then there’s no doubt about who you belong to.” He winks and says under his breath, “And who’s going to be the death of me.”
I give him a nerve-racking chuckle that grates against my bones. Dear Lord, what does this man have planned?
I mean, what’s the worst it could be? My immediate thought is a dead body, but I really don’t know how much that fazes me anymore, despite how much I hate the thought. And there’s no way Mickey would show me a dead animal.
Christ, what if he made a super impulsive purchase and bought a cramped little sports car? Or like that time he bought three bikes because he couldn’t decide on one.
“Please, no blindfold,” I whisper.
Looking up at the ceiling, he groans. “I really can’t say no to you, can I?”
“I think you can.”
He squints, then bobs his head from side to side. “You’re right, I can.” As soon as we make it through the front door, he slides in from behind me, covering my eyes with his warm hands. “You said no blindfolds. Nothing about hands,” he says pointedly.
I make a noise of frustration, but my nerves are buzzing beneath my skin, so I can’t find the words to say as Mickey guides me forward. Pavement changes to gravel beneath my feet, crunching with each step we take until we come to an abrupt stop.
“You ready, Princess?”
No.
“Yes.”
I hold my breath as he removes his hands. My lips part on a gasp before I can hold it back.
A quaint sage caravan hooks onto the back of the pickup truck. Buttery cream and lace curtains peek out from behind the silver-trimmed windows. It’s the type of caravan you’d see on retro magazines and vintage-inspired mood boards.
I can already picture it nestled next to a tree by the beach while we both lounge on fold-out chairs. Or hidden away in the forest with fairy lights draped from the trimming as we picnic on the damp earth.
“Surprise,” Mickey whispers in my ear.
“Mickey,” is all I manage to say.
This is what I always wanted without truly realizing it: to be able to travel around the country, feeling sand between my toes, tasting freedom on my tongue. There would be nothing holding us back.