More Than Forever
Page 73

And he did.
Or at least he tried.
After a few hundred times of watching this movie, the little boy turned to his mother and asked, "Why wouldn't the genie just give him more wishes?"
His mom smiled down at him. "Because," she said. "It's selfish to want more than you already have."
The little boy spent night after night thinking about his mother's words. And he promised then, to always appreciate what he had. What was given to him. And to never want more.
But then this boy, a little older now, and definitely more handsome and rugged, fell in love with his own princess, who was sad and lonely in her huge mansion. And even though his mom's words played in his head, he couldn't help but want more. He wanted more of her, tiny versions of her, in the form of their daughters.
Now, that boy is a man—again, even more handsome. And he sees the selfishness of his ways; his want to have more of something he already had. Something he was blessed to be given in the first place.
So for days and days this man searches for the genie, trying to find a way to make his wishes come true. And he promises himself that if he finds that genie, and the genie offers him three wishes, he'll say what he should have said a long time ago. "You can keep your two wishes, I'll just take the one. I want my girl, Lucy. My forever. And not just for our forever, but for eternity, and for always."
 
 
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

-CAMERON- It's been a few days since Hope's funeral, and I haven't heard from her. I don't know if she wants more time, but I'm giving it to her anyway. Jake says she'll come to me when she's ready, so I wait. Or at least I did. But now, seeing her reading under a tree just like she used to when we were fifteen, I can't help but go to her.
I release my backpack and sit next to her.
She drops her chin to her chest, trying to hide her smile. God, I miss her smile.
"What are you reading?" I ask.
"Nothing."
"You can't be reading nothing. What is it?"
"It's just about a boy and girl... falling in love."
"Yeah?" I joke, repeating my words from so long ago. "Is the guy a stud? Is his name Cameron?"
She laughs, the sound so powerful it drowns out all other sounds. "Yes, actually."
"Really?" I ask in disbelief.
She nods, her smile full force. But her eyes stay down, focused on the words. "But he's a sexy, broody, drug lord."
"No shit?"
"Shit," she says.
I beat my chest like a caveman. "I could be a sexy, broody, drug lord."
She laughs again.
"Read me some," I ask her.
"No."
"Fine."
She doesn't respond, and I think we're done. But the warmth of her hand skims down my arm. I watch anxiously as her hand reaches mine.
My heart picks up pace.
Then she links our fingers and curls hers.
I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.
She doesn't speak. She just sits there, reading her book, loosely holding my hand.
After a few minutes she lifts my arm by my hand and ducks under it, so my arm is around her, our fingers locked at the side of her waist. She leans in close, so close I can smell her shampoo. I sniff once. I've missed that smell.
"Did you just sniff me?"
"No."
She scoots until we're as close as possible, and that's how we stay, in silence, until the sun starts to set. I watch as the sky turns orange, then red, then purple. And I know that we've been sitting here for hours, but it feels like minutes because time doesn't exist when I'm with her.
She shivers in my arms.
"Are you cold?" She turns her e-reader off and looks up at me for the first time since I've sat down. My eyes can't take her in fast enough.
"Yeah," she says. "I should probably get back to my room."
I try to think if I have sweatshirt I can offer, something that will make her stay longer, but I have nothing. "Oh, okay."
She stands up and shrugs her backpack on. "It's late," she says, as I get to my feet.
"Yeah," I respond.
"It's like... dinner time, right?"
I nod. And just stand there.
"Do you—" she starts, and then cuts herself off.
And then it hits me. "Did you want to get something to eat?"
"Oh, no. I mean—do you?"
I nod frantically, and then try to calm the fuck down. "Y-yeah... if you do?"
She lets out a laugh. "Why is this so hard?"
"I'm nervous," I tell her truthfully. "It's like I'm fifteen and I'm asking you out on a date."
She smiles. "I don't think you ever really asked me out on a date... like... ever..."
"I didn't?" I try to think back to that time in our lives. "Holy shit. I didn't, did I?"
She shakes her head, biting her lip as she does.
"Well, would you like to go out with me?" I ask, feeling stupid and embarrassed, but most of all, hopeful.
A low giggle escapes her. "How about we get take out and bring it back to my room... we could watch a movie or something?"
I want to crack a joke about her inviting me to her room on our first date... and if watching a movie is code for getting laid... but I don't think it's suitable. "That sounds great."
***
We bring pizza back to her room, and I'm thankful that Rose isn't there. "It's so cold," she says. "It was so warm today and now it's freezing."
I set the pizza on her desk and watch her walk to her dresser. "You want a hoodie? I think I have a few of yours here."
I smile at the thought of her keeping my clothes. "Yeah, please."
She throws a hoodie at my head, making her laugh.
"Good arm," I joke.
She shrugs. "Jake's been teaching me to pitch."
"Huh." I force down the jealousy. First the gym, now the pitching lessons.
She pulls out pajamas from her drawer and points to the bathroom. "I'm just gonna change real quick."
It's been a long time since she's left a room to undress. I look away and nod.
I wait to hear the bathroom door close before I sit on the bed. I drop my head in my hands, and I think. I think about how long it's going to take, and how hard it's going to be to try to get back to where we were. The bed dips when she sits next to me. "Cameron," she says, and I tilt my head to face her. She must be able to tell what's on my mind because she adds, "Slow, okay?"
I nod, my heart heavy with uncertainty. She stands and picks up the box of pizza and her laptop. "Lucas loaded Netflix on my computer so we can watch whatever."
She sits on her bed with her back against the wall and pats the spot next to her.
A movie plays, but I don't watch it. I watch her.
When we're done eating and she trashes the box, she sets her laptop on her desk chair on the side of the bed. "It's cold," she says. "I think I'm going to get under the covers. You can leave, if you need to get back for an early class or something..."
"Or?" I ask her.
"Or you can stay, lie with me until the movie finishes."