“Rise and shine, beautiful,” Dean sings, gently shaking me awake.
Normally I get a warm, full feeling when I hear Dean’s gruff voice. Today, I want to punch him in the face. I know what time he gets up, and, considering I didn’t sleep at all the night before, I was expecting him to let me sleep today. Nope. He’s got some weird plan to get me up at the crack of dawn with him. I’m not about that, so I refuse to open my eyes. Maybe he’ll get the hint I’m sleeping and leave me alone.
“Come on, Buttercup,” he says, shaking my whole body. “Time to get up.”
“Let me sleep,” I groan into my pillow, hoping to shrug off Dean’s rocking.
“No time for sleep. We have too much to do today.”
“No. We have sleep today. That’s all.”
I roll onto my stomach and bury my head under my pillow. Can’t he take a hint?
“If you don’t want to get up on your own, I’m sure I can make you get up.”
“Hmfhm.”
“You had your chance,” he teases.
Without warning, Dean’s fingertips prod and wiggle into my sides, the backs of my knees, and every inch of my sensitive skin. The sheer shock of it all has me wide awake and scrambling away from him. I can’t be sure, but I may have elbowed or kicked him. Honestly, it serves him right. Who goes around tickling people who are half asleep?
“Whoa, whoa, I’m done,” he says, pinning my arms against my body to immobilize me. “I didn’t realize you were that ticklish.”
“Never. Do. That. Again.” I say, shaking myself free from his grip and pointing my finger at him, staring at him with furrowed brows. The second I see his face fall flat, I can’t keep the smile from spreading across my face. “Kidding! Just don’t tickle me when I’m asleep. That’s a major no-no.”
“But I can tickle you when you’re awake?”
“Scratch that. No tickling allowed.”
“Okay. No tickling. Duly noted.”
“Good. Now, can you tell me why you have me up at the crack of dawn?”
Dean laughs.
“First, it’s not the crack of dawn. It’s almost seven-thirty. The crack of dawn is closer to four-thirty when I usually get up for work.”
I stare at him, unamused.
“Second,” he continues, “since you’re going back to Portland tomorrow, I figured you wouldn’t want to waste a second sleeping the day away, which is why I have you up at, ‘the crack of dawn.’ Figured we’d go into town or something. I owe you a hot chocolate, after all.”
“You know, that sounds kinda fun.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Let me just get dressed and we can go.”
Dean grabs my elbow and pulls me back into bed.
“Slow down, zippy. You’re fast asleep one second and the next you’re ready to hit the town?”
“Yeah. Why not? I’m awake now. Let’s go.”
“Nothing’s open yet. It’s not even eight. We’ve got some time to kill.”
“They why’d you have to get me up this early if nothing’s opened for a few more hours?”
“So you’d have plenty of time for this.”
Morning sex? Now, this I can get behind.
I part my legs in anticipation, but Dean backs away and leaves. Well, that’s not cool.
When he comes back in, both his hands are behind his back.
“Which do you want first?” he says, giving both shoulders a quick shrug.
“Hm, right hand!”
“Very good choice.”
Bringing his right arm forward, he pulls around the unopened bottle of white wine I completely forgot about.
“Left hand now?”
I nod, and Dean gives me the heart-shaped box of chocolates I’ve been snacking on for the past few days.
“Don’t fill up on those,” he says, pointing to the half-empty box when I plop a caramel-filled chocolate in my mouth. “I have something better on the way.”
Before I have the chance to ask what he means, he leaves again, only to return with a massive platter of steaming deliciousness with fresh fruit, eggs—both scrambled and over easy—and bacon.
“I have orange juice and coffee, too. I just didn’t think putting liquids on the bed was such a good idea.”
“You know you’re ruining my life, right? How am I supposed to go back to life without your cooking tomorrow?”
“That’s kinda the point,” he says with a wink, then we both get to eating.
We spent the rest of the morning in bed learning as much as we can about the other person. Dean learns I hate rom-coms, but Sixteen Candles is my all-time favorite movie, and I learn that his fear of horror movies extends into the kid’s genre.
“How have you never seen Casper?”
“Uh, because of ghosts.”
“So you know nothing about unfinished business?”
“Unfinished business?” he asks.
“It’s like a universal ghost rule. You can’t die with anything left unchecked or you’ll turn into a ghost. So, you better think about what business you have unfinished before you’re doomed to walk the planet as a ghost.”
I wiggle my fingers in his face and make ghost sounds, and he does the same. We laugh uncontrollably until my sides hurt and I’m gasping for air. Then, out of nowhere, Dean turns serious.
“So you said you’re about to graduate from grad school,” Dean says, pouring the last bit of wine into my plastic cup. “Then what? I mean, I know the plan is the change the world. But from where? Like, are you staying at your current job?”
This is what I’ve been dreading. I finally meet a guy I like weeks before I plan to move across the country. That complicates things further. What happens to us then? I purposefully take a long sip of my wine just to stall from answering as long as possible. When he looks at me with expectant eyes, I know I can’t stall anymore.
“I’m actually looking for a new job.”
“Oh cool. Staying local?”
It would be so much easier if Dean could read minds. Just have him know what I’m thinking.
“I’m open to moving around.”
There. That’s vague enough while implying if something came up in Silicon Valley. For example, I would be open to moving there.
“Oh, really?” he asks, his eyes lighting up. “I just happen to know super-secret information about a tech job where you wouldn’t have to move far.”
“Really?”
If I didn’t have to move far, I’d still be able to see Suze and Mick all the time. And my mom. I miss my mom.
“Yup. I was talking to the mayor or whatever, the same guy who told me about the dance last night, the other day and he told me a tech startup is opening in Valoid soon. It sounded like they were doing what you’re interested in with the food and stuff. Maybe you could look into that.”
“If that worked out, it’d be perfect. I’d be right in the middle of Suze and my mom.”
“I’ll see if I can get Paul’s number today. Try to get you guys hooked up before you head home.”
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“You said something about North Carolina before. When are you leaving?”
“Ah. That didn’t work out.”
“So…are you staying here?”
“That’s another reason we’re going into town. I might have a job.”
“Does that mean you’re staying?”
He nods, and my stomach does flips. It’s way too early to want to move somewhere just to be close to my boyfriend, but the possibility that we might not have the time restriction and distance I originally thought we did makes this feel more like a normal relationship. I mean, how many people meet on vacation and end up staying in touch? People go back to their normal lives and routines. But if our normal lives just happened to collide…
“Why’d you get this?” I ask, overcome with the need to change the subject.
“This specific one?” he asks, pointing to the tree I’m tracing. “Or the whole sleeve?”
“Both.”
“Well, this specifically is an eastern pine tree. They’re all over the place back home, so it seemed fitting I’d get that tattooed on me. Why all of it,” he says, rubbing at his ink, “first, I thought it looked cool. It does.” I nod in agreement. “But I also wanted to remember where I came from. I grew up surrounded by nature, practically living in the great outdoors. Even though I never went camping and had a crappy childhood, I like to think I’m as strong as these massive trees.
“You definitely are,” I say, draping his arm over my shoulder.
“Oh no, you don’t. Don’t you dare get comfy. We’re leaving soon.”
“But it’s so cozy in your arms,” I say, wiggling against his body.
“I know, but we have lots to do today. So up and at ‘em.”
Dean jumps out of bed before I can snuggle up against him and convince him to stay in bed. He claps his hands, encouraging me to get moving like I’m a kid or dog or someone easily excitable like that, which clearly I am not. Just to remind him, I stick my tongue out at him before begrudgingly getting out of bed.