Page 59 of From Me to You

“It looks like soon enough I will even have my own closet space.”

He shrugged. “Anything I have is yours.”

There goes my heart again, beating so loudly that I could feel it. “So Marley said you haven’t brought anyone to the cabinbefore. Is it true? I assumed you had brought the whole gang here,” I asked curiously.

Jay drew small circles along my shoulders with his calloused fingers. “Yeah, it is. Only Mikey and Lily have been here a few times. Mikey sometimes used to spend his summers with us as a kid. But I don’t like bringing anyone else here. It’s a place I like to escape when I don’t want to deal with shit.” He smiled with a far-off look on his face. “I have a lot of good memories with my uncle in this cabin. He taught me how to play my first chord here. He taught me how to swim at the lake. Hell, he even taught me how to cook here. This cabin has a very special place in my heart, and I like to keep it that way.” He kissed my neck.

“Except for me? You brought me here! Because I am special. Because I am your favorite person in the whole wide world.” I beamed at him.

He laughed and I felt the vibration against my back. “Yes. You are my most special and favorite person in the whole world.”

I squealed. “I have two new titles that I have earned. I am your special and your favorite person.”

He chuckled—his face still buried in my neck.

Soon after our little bath, Jay brought a fluffy towel and dried me from head to toe. Every single inch. So, I repeated the process to him so he would know exactly how that felt. Like we wanted another replay of last night.

I wore one of his faded ‘The Police’ band t-shirts that smelled like him—it was his favorite band, but he still couldn’t choose a favorite song. I loved how the material clung to my body, like a hug from him—it almost dwarfed me coming up to my knees, but I relished in the feel of it. I was so stealing more of his t-shirts and hoodies. Hmm, his hoodies were on a whole other level—I wore one of his hoodies once, and I never gave it back.

I drifted off to my dream world as my eyes refocused on the rain outside. I was thinking how great the world would be ifit were made of pink fluffy cotton candies where we only ate candies for food and the only drink allowed obviously was coffee and maybe chocolate milkshakes. With Jay, of course, and Aunty M. And maybe everyone else too. My very own wonderland.

Jay came back up shirtless with another mug of coffee and cuddled up with me. His bare skin radiated a delicious warmth that made me sigh happily.

“You have that look on your face again.”

“What look?” I mumbled. Maybe milk chocolate truffles and cake should be the mandatory lunch in my world.

“Where you are thinking something weird and random.” Jay cocked his eyebrow.

“It’s not weird or random. I was thinking about lunch in my wonderland.”

“Yeah, not weird at all.” He smirked.

“What!?” I elbowed him. “You haven’t even heard about my wonderland—it is full of pink cotton candies, with only sweets and coffee for food. Oh, and you are there.” I grinned, proud of myself.

“Will I be eating you for breakfast?” His eyes sparkled with amusement.

I blushed. “Stop.” I pouted.

“But you are so adorable that I want to eat you up.” He kissed my nose and playfully nipped my lips.

I blushed harder.

“Play me a song.” I nodded toward the guitar on the huge velvet armchair.

Jay smiled as he picked it up and sat on the bed. He strummed the chords to ‘Brown-eyed Girl’—his velvety smooth voice filled the air. I lay flat on my stomach, resting my head on my folded hands, as I watched the heart-stopping performance he put on for me. His gaze was fixed on mine the entire time. The rhythmicfall of the rain and the melodies of his husky voice drifted me back to sleep.

“Hey, sweetheart,” a soft voice said, waking me up in the best way possible. With his hands all over me.

I moaned as his hands went under my T-shirt and played with one of my nipples.

“Come on, wake up. You haven’t had anything except for coffee. You need to eat something.”

“Hmm,” I moaned as his hands went lower.

“Still sore?” he whispered.

“No.”