Page 33 of Love Out Loud

Chapter 13

Lark

I vaguely remember Lennon coming in from the balcony, saying he was going to grab a quick shower, and then disappearing into his bedroom. I had every intention of also showering—and bringing my clothes with me this time—but I flop onto his couch for a minute.

The next thing I know, Lennon’s voice is whispering into my ear, low and rumbling. Sensual, like a lover might talk in the stolen hours of early morning. “Hey, Songbird.”

I bury myself into something, which I hazily start to realize is a throw pillow on Lennon’s couch. The moan that escapes me is only half-voluntarily.

Lennon chuckles. The sound of it pings through me, and suddenly, I’m alive. My eyes pop open, and he’s there. His sharp jaw dotted with sandy stubble, his equally fair hair falling casually over his forehead. Boyish dimples on either side of an indulgent smirk. Hazel eyes with flecks of gold.

“How long was I out?” I ask, rubbing my eyes and hoping that when I open them, he’ll look marginally less attractive.

No such luck. If anything, the light catches an even better angle when he shifts back onto his heels from his crouch in front of me. It throws his sharp features in an even starker relief.

“It’s two,” he says remorsefully. “I wanted to wake you a few times, but you seemed so tired this morning.”

I groan and roll to my back. “This feels like jet lag.”

“I mean, you are on a three-hour time difference,” he says, trying to be helpful.

“And going on two nights with no sleep,” I add. “I’m sorry. This isn’t the start to this trip I wanted.”

He takes my hand in his, our palms flush against one another. “You’re not going to believe this,” he says as he studies our hands coupled together over my stomach, “but the only thing that matters to me is that you’re here.”

I sigh up at the ceiling. “How did ten years pass between our last visit and now?”

He settles in closer, resting his elbow on the cushion next to my hip. “My parents moved. Again. So when I traveled, I had to see them most of the time.” I don’t miss the bitter edge to his voice, and I give his hand a squeeze. He squeezes back. “Richard left, Devin had a lot more going on, and when you traveled, you had to take her to him. Money was tight for both of us.”

I huff at that. “That’s an understatement.”

“Toss in a pandemic that caused a crisis in the airline industry, and here we are, I guess.” It sounds like he’s dodging something, but I’m too tired to press him.

“I should have made it a priority as soon as I could,” I say to the ceiling.

“We both should have,” he agrees quickly. “You’re not alone in that, so don’t go feeling all guilty.”

I eye him sidelong. “You’re right. If anything, it’s mostly your fault. You’re the single, childfree one.”

He nods solemnly. “I’m free as a bird.”

“The irony,” I say drily.

Lennon hums, then pauses for a moment as we both smile at each other like idiots. “So, listen. I know you need to practice before tomorrow, but I want to show off a bit first. Can I take you out?”

I chew on my lip as I study him. “Out where?”

He shrugs, but he’s got a giant grin on his face that makes me suspicious. “I didn’t intend to surprise you, but now I feel like I should.”

“What? No. Just tell me.”

He shakes his head, still smiling. “Dress casual.”

***

About two hours later, we’ve gotten a bottle of pinot noir, a giant charcuterie plate, some lavender almonds Lennon insists I try, and a box of dark chocolate truffles from a hip-looking wine bar in downtown Santa Monica. They package everything up while we wait, and Lennon carries the bag to his Jeep where he sets it carefully on top of the blanket and two hoodies he brought.

“We can’t drink on the beach, so the wine is for later,” he says apologetically as he starts the car and pulls out of his parking space.