The Failing Hours (How to Date a Douchebag 2)

“Now what did he tell you to do?”

“He said to get you a gift for our anniversary, a really nice one, but obviously people don’t do that.”

Our anniversary?

“It’s our anniversary?”

Is that what this fancy dinner is all about? The dressy clothes and expensive restaurant? I thought we were just having dinner.

Zeke’s Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows, face turning red with embarrassment. “Shit.”

“I’m sorry. I knew by looking at the calendar we’ve been together that long, I just didn’t realize you’d want to celebrate it.”

“What do you mean you didn’t realize I’d want to celebrate? You’re my girlfriend.”

He’s looking at me like I’m the weirdo here.

Oh my god, it’s so sweet.

“So…can I have my gift?”

“Yes,” he grumbles. “But I feel like such an asshole.”

“You feel like an asshole for buying me a gift?”

“Nooo, I feel like an asshole because—well…don’t feel bad, okay? I know you didn’t get me anything.” If sullen eyes can pout, his are doing it right now.

“Don’t mope. I would have gotten you something if I’d known this was a celebratory dinner.”

Zeke lifts his hips off the seat, digging in his back pocket. Produces a narrow envelope and sets it in the middle of the table.

I stare at it.

He prods me. “Go ahead. Take it.”

My fingers deftly pluck it up. Examine it.

His beautiful lips curl into a smile. “Any guesses?”

It could only be… “Concert tickets?”

“Nope.” He casually reaches for a water glass, takes a sip, cool as can be. Sets it down and says, “Just open it. You’ll never guess.”

My thumb cuts through the envelope, revealing the paper folded inside. I unfold it, bringing it closer to my face, studying the printed details. “It’s airline vouchers.”

He’s smug. “Yup.”

“For Colorado.”

“Right.” He straightens his utensils.

“I don’t understand.”

His brow furrows. “Isn’t that where your aunt and uncle and cousins live?”

“Yes.” I drag the word out slowly, still staring hard at the black ink printed on the paper. I lower it after a few more seconds, my heart…

Swells.

“Zeke.” I finally raise my misty eyes to look at him. “Did you buy me tickets so I could see my family?”

“No, I bought us tickets so we could see your family.” He says it nonchalantly, like it’s no big deal, taking a piece of bread from the basket on the table and tearing off a chunk. “I was thinking June, but…” He shrugs. “Whenever.”

My fingertips trail over my name on the plane voucher. The departure and destination airports listed at the top.

“Why would you do this?”

“Because you deserve it.”

I bite down on my trembling lower lip. Give my head a shake. “I don’t remember even mentioning this.”

“Sure you did, remember? In the library that day when we got into our first fight. You were yelling about how they moved and you couldn’t afford plane tickets.”

“That was months ago, and I yelled a lot of things at you that day—how did you pick that out of everything I said?

His gray eyes soften. “I hear everything you’ve ever said to me Pix.”

The tears start falling hot and fast; I can’t swipe them away quick enough. “Th-This means everything to me Zeke—you mean everything to me. I love you—s-so much.”

He tries to smile at me, tries to be tough, but there’s no hiding the slight quiver of his bottom lip as he speaks. “You deserve to see your family, baby. They deserve to see you.”

My head bows, shoulders hunched. I take deep, steadying breaths, trying not to cry at the dinner table. Wipe my nose with a white linen napkin.

My heart is bursting with so much joy I don’t know what to do with it all. Pride that he’s mine to keep. That I was smart enough to take a chance on him despite my friends. Despite his manners and bad attitude.

He’s amazing.

He doesn’t realize it, but he is.

He stands then, coming around to my side of the table, wrapping his arms around my shoulders from behind. Kisses my jaw and the corner of my lips. Kneels beside my chair and hugs me.

I lay my forehead against his shoulder.

“I can’t believe you did this for me.” I quietly weep.

“Of course I did this for you,” his deep, unsteady voice rasps into my ear. “I love you. You’re my family Violet, and if I have to buy a ticket, hop on a plane, and take you to see yours, then I’m going to do it. I love you.” His voice cracks, barely above a whisper. “I would do anything for you. I want to take care of you.”

I lift my face, tears dampening my cheeks. Zeke’s hands wipe them away.

“I don’t want you to take care of me.”

“Then what do you want?”

“I want us to take care of each other.”

He kisses me firmly on the lips, like we’re the only two people in the room, mouth lingering.

“I want to go home,” I mutter against his warm lips.

“Okay,” he says slowly. “My place or yours?’

“It doesn’t matter, I just want to climb into bed and cuddle you.”