_OceanofPDF

“I’m trouble, you know.” I gripped his lapels and shook him.
“You are so much damn trouble.” He kissed my forehead.
“And you’re no fun.”
“I’m too boring for you.” His breath caressed my ear as he ran his lips
along my neck. I ran my fingers through his hair with a sigh and a groan.
“We’re a perfect mess, my star. Say yes anyway. I love you. I love you
more than this life can contain. Finish the year with me. Then the next and
the next. Let’s break shit and glue it back together for the rest of our lives.”
We were perfect, and we were a mess, and that was all it was.
I pushed him away to hold his face still, up against mine so I could feel
our separateness and intimacy. Both existed at the same time, in the same
space.
It was him. I wanted his mess. Our mess.
“Logan Crowne,” I said, “I take you to be my husband. To love and to
honor. To break shit and put it back together ‘til death do us part.”
“Do I kiss the bride now?”
“You’d better.”
He kissed me, and of all the times our lips had met, that kiss buckled my
knees the most. When he held me up, his arms were stronger because his
promises were real, and so were we.
Happiness didn’t come neatly packaged. It found you in the moments
between tears and laughter, in the fights and brokenness, in the support and
in the bond with someone who loved you as broken as you were and as
whole as you’d become.
OceanofPDF.com