Sex Says(105)

“Reed,” she whispered, and the way she said it filled me with everything I needed to know I’d done it. I’d broken through the barrier I’d made with stupidity, and I had no plans to ever build it back.

“I thought I knew best, but as it turns out, Sex really does say.”

She melted at the mention of my unused column. “I loved the column.”

I shrugged. I didn’t care about the column, but I did care about her. “I love you.”

Her lips hit mine, and I had just leaned in to enjoy it when she pulled away, grabbed both puppets, and ran up to stand on the brick wall overlooking the flowers.

I stood and watched her.

“Come here,” she demanded with a gesture of both full arms and a jerk of her head.

“I’m good right here,” I told her with a smile, settling into my spot and crossing my arms over my chest.

“You’re so weird sometimes,” she called back, and I laughed.

That was really rich coming from her. My weirdo.

“Come up here and look at the fucking view.”

“I am,” I replied.

She tilted her head in annoyance.

I was actually surprised she didn’t get it. But I was more than willing to tell her. “Don’t you know, Lo? The best view includes you.”





The best view includes you.

I looked down at Reed.

I looked out at the breathtaking view.

And then, I looked at the ridiculous marionettes hanging down at my feet from their strings. They were miniature versions of exactly what I imagined the old, eighty-year-old Reed and Lola would look like. With their too big smiles and painted-on wrinkles and beady little eyes, I couldn’t deny these damn puppets were a far cry from being easy on the eyes.

In fact, they were downright frightening.

But, despite their faces’ ability to possibly give nightmares, they were the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for me. Because these marionettes weren’t just marionettes—they were a symbol of something more. They were fitting of me, the thirty-two-year-old roller skating, pigtailed woman from San Francisco, the extremely eccentric version of the ultimate gesture. Let’s spend our lives together, they said.

A declaration of love.

A promise of more, of everything, that had come straight from Reed’s heart.

And I knew that’s exactly why he had done this. It wasn’t just for me and my crazy life goal of feeding squirrels in the park with my mini-me marionette.

It was for us. Reed and Lola. And a proposal to be standing there together, still doing this obscenely absurd thing, when we were old and gray.

When I looked up to find him again, he wasn’t more than a foot away. His blue eyes searched mine, and I didn’t hide what I was feeling—surprise, warmth, acceptance. I didn’t hide the happy tears his gesture had spurred, and I definitely did not hide my love.

Vulnerable and exposed, my heart was on my sleeve, and for the first time in my life, there wasn’t any fear or uncertainty. No discomfort or tightening inside my chest.

Just happiness.

And love.

Sweet, sweet love.

“I can’t believe you did this,” I whispered.

“I can.” His hands cupped my cheeks, thumbs sweeping out to disturb the perfect, tiny rivers of tears.

“This is what a man, who is hopelessly, endlessly, and deeply in love, does for the weird, whimsical woman he is hopelessly, endlessly, and deeply in love with.” His blue eyes shone with tenderness. “And, Lola, I love you.”

“I love you too,” I whispered through a fresh batch of tears. This time, they carved a path across his hands like river rocks.

No words. No hesitation. Just his gaze and mine, open and willing and in love. We stayed like that for an unknown amount of time, until he finally broke the sweet silence.

“Lola?” Reed asked, and he softly brushed his lips across mine.

“Yeah?”

His lips locked with mine, an unspoken I’m going to kiss the hell out of you in answer to my yeah, and right there, with one of the most incredible buildings I’d ever seen behind us—and two really creepy marionettes watching us—Reed Luca sealed his commitment to me with the sweetest, most tender kiss.

God, I love him.

“So, me and you, we’re going to do this for a while?” I whispered against his persistent mouth as soon as the kiss broke, instead of taking in air. He chuckled, leaning his forehead against mine.

“At least until we look like these creepy fucking puppets.”

It was the best damn declaration of commitment I’d ever heard.

Not a proposal or a diamond ring or a promise of marriage. It was the opposite of traditional. But it was one hundred percent us, Reed and Lola—two weirdos who’d spend the rest of their days loving, laughing, fighting, and feeding squirrels with the creepiest marionettes the world had ever seen.