Page 92 of Our Secret Moments
Because there is no future I want to be a part of where Connor Bailey doesn’t recite days of the month to me, vowing he’s going to give me a kiss on every one of those days.That’sthe future I want. With him.
“New year's resolution, go!”
It’s a minute to midnight and Connor and I have managed to pull ourselves into the back of a crowd so we’re slightly hidden from the rest of our friends. It’s freezing out here, but Connor’s arms around my shoulder, pulling my back into his chest is all the warmth I need.
“I already told you my resolution,” I say, turning in his arms. His hands now find their way on my hips, rocking me into him as I sling my arms around his neck.
“You can have more than one,” he whispers, “Do you want to know what mine is?”
“Okay.”
“It’s to make you the happiest girl on the planet,” he says seriously. My chest pinches at his words. “I’ll wait for you, I’ll listen to you, I’ll take care of you. I’ll do anything for you, Cat. Anything you want, I’ll do it. Anything you need, I’ll give to you.”
“I’ll do the same for you,” I whisper, my voice shaking. “That’s how this works, isn’t it?”
“That’s exactly how this works.”
He holds my gaze when the fifteen second countdown starts around us.
I’m not afraid of falling, or jumping straight into this anymore because I know he’ll catch me. I know he’ll tell me that I’m okay and talk me out of my mind, or hold me when I want to stay there. He’s exactly the kind of man girls dream about being with.
And he’s mine.
Always.
Fireworks explode above us and his lips meet mine. “Happy New Year, sweetheart,” he murmurs against my mouth.
“Happy New Year, Connor.”
THIRTY-FOUR
CAT
“FICTIONAL MEN.”
I’m completely convincedthat it is a universal experience, as a woman, to wake up crying on your birthday.
I don’t know why it happens, but it happens every year without fail. Even when I was a kid and my parents would wish me a happy birthday, the second I opened my eyes and I’d just start sobbing. I’ve never known why, so I’ve just accepted my fate as a Cancer moon that I will wake up having an existential crisis on my birthday.
Elle and Nora know these antics, which is why we’ve all managed to fit onto my small double bed in my room and eat waffles whilst an episode ofNew Girlplays in the background.
For all of our birthdays, breakfast in bed is an unspoken tradition, so I wasn’t surprised when they came barrelling in here at nine-am this morning with trays of assorted breakfast foods. It’s been a while since we’ve all sat in the same room and it feels good.
I don’t have any plans for the day other than hanging out with these two. I would usually go to a party or something, but this year I’ve been out of my bed more than I’d like and I want to stay in with my girls for once.
I try not to make a big deal out of my birthday, even though I’m pretty sure turning twenty is a big deal, but I can’t bring myself to care. The thought of getting older is mortifying and I know I won’t always look this good forever, so I might as well cherish it whilst I can.
“Oh my god, I love this episode,” Elle exclaims, shoving strawberries into her mouth as she snuggles beside me, her dark brown hair tied neatly into a ponytail. “This is the one where Nick thinks he’s going to die when he gets that ultrasound.”
I sigh, knowing exactly what this episode entails. We’ve probably watched it over a hundred times between the three of us and it never gets boring. It’s one of those episodes in a sit-com where it touches on serious topics whilst still being hilarious. I swear I had to just stare at a wall for a while after it ended.
“Bit of a touchy subject sincesomeoneis getting on in years,” Nora mumbles, bumping her arm into mine. She puts on one of her Southern accents. I guess we’re doing this today. Great.
“Okay, calm down. You also just turned twenty, so you’re not that much older than me,” I argue.
Nora rolls her eyes. “Well, I actuallyenjoymy birthday, and you don’t. I can’t wait to get old and be a grandma. I don’t know if Ryan and I will even have kids, but I want to besomeone’sgrandma.”
She sighs wistfully and leans over me to look at Elle. “Don’t look at me,” she replies, eyes wide as she holds her hands up. “We all know I’ve not dated anyone since Toby Fisher in the fifth grade and that barely lasted a week.”