“Arms”—Christina Perri

OUR FIRST TWO DAYS TOGETHER have flown by. Day one was pretty much all travel, but remembering how the night ended puts a fat smile on my face. Yesterday, of course, was the funeral, and then we spent the entire afternoon watching the wild horses. He eventually made love to me right there on the blanket before taking me to dinner and then spending the rest of the night worshiping my body.

And now here we are cleaning out Josephine’s house. It isn’t exactly the way I planned on spending day three, especially considering Devin is leaving tomorrow, but it needed to be done. We’ve been cleaning for hours, and Devin insists that whatever we don’t get through is simply going to get thrown away.

“Do you want this?” I hold up an old baseball glove I just found shoved under a twin-size bed in the spare room, which I assume used to be Devin’s. I recognize this glove. My parents bought it for Dev in seventh grade and he loved it. His mom couldn’t afford one—either that or she didn’t want to spend the money—and he was damn proud of that black Rawlings.

“Where did you find that?” Pushing to his knees, Devin crawls to where I’m at and he takes the glove, brushing off the dust.

“It was under the bed … way in the back.” Reaching under the bed again, I find an old shoebox and drag it out.

Devin sighs and slips his hand in the worn leather. “I looked everywhere for this glove after we moved here, but I couldn’t find it. Mom kept telling me that it would pop up, and then I guess she got sick of me asking because she finally just told me to get over it.” Balling his hand into a fist, he pounds it into the glove, a wistful look passing over his face. “She said I didn’t play anymore, so it didn’t matter. Except it did, and I probably would have.”

The look on his face tells me all I need to know—as if I didn’t already—about what kind of hateful woman Josephine was. It also tells me that we need a change of subject … fast.

Clearing my throat, I lift the lid off the shoebox. “What do you want to do tonight? I thought maybe we could go grab some dinner.”

“Dinner sounds good,” he mumbles, dropping his glove to the side and reaching into the shoebox I just opened. His hand latches on to some pictures and he flips through them one by one, his smile growing bigger each time he moves to the next.

Leaning forward, I peek at the photos. “Oh my God. Give me that!” Pulling the top one out of his hand, I look down at the photo and I’m instantly taken on a trip down memory lane. “What the hell was I thinking?” No really, what the hell was I thinking? I know it was the 90’s and all, but my bangs couldn’t get higher if I tried, and was I seriously wearing layered neon socks?

“You looked hot.”

“If by hot you mean I looked like a flashing neon sign that screamed ‘look at me, I love New Kids On The Block,’ then yes, I looked hot.”

Devin chuckles and tosses a picture at me. “Remember that?” Picking up the worn photo, I’m instantly brought to tears. It’s the two of us—Devin and me—and he’s sitting on one of Daddy’s four wheelers. I’m sitting behind him, arms wrapped around his stomach. We’re both covered in mud and laughing. We were fifteen years old, and it’s a moment in time that I’ll never forget.

The day this picture was taken was the day Devin told me he loved me for the first time. At the time, it was just the love of two friends, but his words meant the world to me nonetheless.

“Do you remember what happened,” I ask, “right before Daddy snapped this?” My eyes drift upward and Devin is watching me, smiling.

“Of course I do. And do you remember what else we did that day?”

A grin plays at the corner of my mouth. How could I forget? “It’s still there,” I say, letting the memory wash over me.

“Were things better with your mom this morning?” I ask, tossing a rock into the creek.

Devin shrugs, his eyes trained on some unknown object off in the distance. I imagine that the fight with his mom last night must still be weighing heavily on his mind.

“We can talk about it some more if you want.”

“Nah, I’m all talked out, and you’ve listened to enough of my bitchin’.”

If he only knew how much I loved being the one he comes to. It’s a good thing he doesn’t, because it might scare him off. But it’s true. I want to be the one he comes to when he’s having a bad day and when something exciting happens. Unfortunately, the latter doesn’t occur very often.

“Thank you,” he whispers, glancing in my direction.

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“I want to.” He sighs, running a hand over his face. “You’re here for me when I need you, and I don’t want you to think I take that lightly.”

I shake my head. “I don’t think that. You’re my best friend, Dev, and I love you.”

“I love you too, Katie.” His voice is soft, and as he says the words, a crimson flush creeps up his neck. My entire body freezes, and I’m completely unable to do anything but stare at him.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

I don’t respond because I’m still in shock.

He loves me …

“Say something, Kit Kat.”

I blink several times before I’m able to form words. “I know,” I say.

I love the way his eyes widen. “You know?”

“Yes,” I say, chuckling. “I know you love me. I-I just didn’t think you’d ever actually say it.”

“Well,” he says, nudging my shoulder with his. “Now I’ve said it.”

“Now you have.” I nod, looking away with a smirk.

I just wish that he loved me the way I love him.

“Want to make it permanent?” he asks. Jumping to his feet, he holds out a hand. I look at the offering for only a second before slipping my hand in his. He tugs me to my feet and I brush off my butt.

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“The tree,” he says, gesturing toward the old oak sitting a few feet from the bank.

“What about it?” I ask, following him when he walks toward it.

“Let’s carve our names into the tree.”

My lips pinch together and brows scrunch as I look at the other sets of initials carved into the bark. Both my grandparents and my parents’ initials are there, and something about carving ours doesn’t seem right.

“But we aren’t married,” I say. “You aren’t even my boyfriend.”

Devin laughs and pulls a pocketknife from his jeans. “It doesn’t matter,” he says, shaking his head. “You and me, we’re forever. It doesn’t matter if we’re married or not. You’re my best friend, Katie. You could grow up and marry some rich fucker like Wyatt and I could marry some spoiled brat like Marybeth, but it wouldn’t change how I feel about you. You’re always going to be a part of me, and nothing in the world is gonna change that.”

His words do two things. First, they make my heart melt. Second, they make carving our initials in the bark sound much more appealing. Which is a good thing because, without giving me a chance to respond, Devin shoves the tip of his knife into the tree and carves our initials.

D.C. + K.D. = FOREVER

“Katie?” Devin nudges my leg and I look up.

“Huh?”

“You left me for a second there,” he says, his brows dipped low. “Are you okay?”

I smile, but it isn’t a beaming smile. It’s a gentle one that says just how much I adore him. “Yeah. I’m great.” And for the first time in months, I mean it. I am great, and it’s thanks to this beautiful man.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he says, a nervous look on his face.