🌹Rosalie🌹

It's been a week since New York. A whole week of returning to a life of sneaking around and looking over my shoulder every time Nolan reaches for my hand. It's also been a week of falling harder for him. A week of sneaking down the hall to lie in his arms for an hour, a week of taking the long way home just to have extra time to get lost in one another. It's been a week of another therapy session.

Sessions are slow, the process is slow. I wish there were a magic wand. That I could decide I want to get better and poof, I'm better. I want to see what Nolan sees when he looks at me, so why can't I? Why can't I just drink in the wise words of my therapist and snap my fingers into a whole new life?

I guess healing isn't meant to be easy. Maybe sewing up the wounds of deep cut scars is meant to take time, to make you earn and appreciate the journey to something better. Maybe it wouldn't feel like something better if it came easy.

"Close your eyes," Nolan says beside me. I'm currently sitting in the passenger seat as he drives us to a location only he is privy to knowing.

"That seems a bit theatrical," I say.

He drops his gaze, squeezing his hand in mine. "Come on. It's a surprise."

I hold his eyes for a moment longer before I cave, letting my lids close as I rest my head back along the seat. The lull of the car relaxes me as I settle in. I stay that way, letting the quiet mull over me in calming waves, his hand still in mine as the car finally pulls to a stop. I lift my head, eyes still closed.

"One sec," he says, lifting my hand and placing a kiss there before he lets it go and leaves the car. I wait a few seconds before my door opens and his hand is back in mine. "Okay, step down. I've got you."

I follow his lead, cautiously stepping out of his truck and squeezing my hand in his. I walk beside him, feeling the concrete beneath my feet and trying to gain any sense of familiar smells as we continue forward. The sound of a door catches me by surprise as he guides me through. The sudden smell of car oil rushes through me and I'm smiling before I can even get the words out.

He drops my hand now, moving his over my eyes for extra coverage as he continues to lead me forward. "Nolan," I say, unable to contain my excitement. "Is it done? Did you finish her?"

I can feel his smile behind me as he centers me in place. "Open," he whispers, dropping his hands from my eyes.

I slowly roll my eyes open, the 1967 Chevy Camaro coated in a vibrant red coat of paint. "Nolan," I breathe out, stepping forward to soak in every ounce of it. "This is beautiful."

He steps beside me, a smile bright as the sun itself as he looks from me to his baby. "It's unreal," he admits.

I look at him, the light behind his eyes shining with a vibrancy I've never seen before. He did this. And looking at him, seeing the pride behind his eyes, the pure sense of joy and utter hardwork, I know without a doubt that this is more than a mere hobby. It's a passion.

"So," I say, stepping up to the car and running a hand along the bright red paint. "You went with red, huh?"

He looks at me, a smile along his face that's much more playful than the one he had before. "I know, you said Bumblebee yellow," he begins. "But it felt like red was much more her color." He steps closer to me, his hand along my cheek, sliding along my skin and releasing that very shade he seems to love to make blossom.

"Like a rose," I say, looking back at him.

"Yeah," he nods, "like the vibrant shade of a rose. Or the sultry shade of your cheeks when I get too close, or the silky red of your hair in the sunlight."

"Nolan," I breathe out his name, his chest close to mine as he pulls me in.

"Red's become my favorite color," he admits, bringing his lips to mine.

My breath catches, swallowed whole by the thing beating within my chest. He seems to always be able to do that, to set it in flight. When he releases me, his eyes held with mine, he smiles. "You want to take her out?"

"Wait," I say, stepping back with wide eyes. "She's ready to drive?"

"Yeah," he smiles. "I hope so."

"Hope so?"

"I haven't actually taken her out of the shop yet."

"Why? What are you waiting for?"

His head drops to the side, that adorable smile across his lips. "Do you really have to ask?"

I breathe out, that same smile stretching along my face. "You waited for me?"

"I'll always wait for you, Rosalie."

My heart ignites within my chest, a heat only he can bring spins circles around every beat. I nod, jumping over to the passenger seat and sliding into the black leather seats. Nolan jumps into the driver's seat, his eyes set on the steering wheel as he runs his hands along the edge. He glances over at me, his hand on the keys in the ignition. I wait, letting this moment sit in silence, in everything he's worked so hard for. When he's ready, he turns the key, and the engine roars to life.

***

My hand out the window, the wind picking up my hair, a smile a mile wide as I take in the passing view. I don't know how long we've been on the road. Heck, I don't even know what town we've landed in. What I know is this car is amazing. The fact Nolan built it, put it back together piece by piece, makes it feel like a chariot.

He slows, turning off the road and pulling into what appears to be some type of rest stop or lookout point. I glance over at him, his eyes still set in front of us as he pulls down a small road.

"Why are we stopping?"

"I want to show you something."

I look back out the windshield, taking note of passing trees leaning low over the narrow road. "Are we even supposed to be here?"

"Probably not," he answers.

I nod. Under normal circumstances, I'd fight him on this. But there's something in the calm of his eyes that has me relaxing back in my seat.

We drive through to a clearing, the edge of a hill the perfect place to park. When he cuts the engine, he pushes open his door, quickly circling around to my side to pull my door open for me. I step out, moving around him before his hand is in mine, pulling me back. His chest to mine, he leans in and kisses me.

The soft caress of his lips rest along mine, so completely full. He pushes me up against the car, his hand along my waist, mine wrapped around his neck as I pull him in.

When we part, his forehead falls to mine, our breaths heavy as he holds me. "Come on," he whispers, his hand in mine as he pulls me from the car.

We circle to the front, leaning against the hood as we look out over the clearing. The entire town rests in front of us. A vast display of open fields and scattered buildings and houses. All of it lost against the vibrant blue of the midday sky.

"Wow," I breathe out. "Is that Blueridge?"

"Some of it," he says.

"It's remarkable."

His hand stays wrapped with mine, his shoulder resting against me as we take in the view.

"I used to come here with my dad," he says, his voice drifting as the moment settles between us both. I look over at him, waiting for more. "We would sit on the hood of his car and dream of a future. Of football. It always felt so straightforward here. I knew what I wanted, what I had to do to get there."

My hand tightens in his. "You've done it, Nolan. You've lived that dream."

He brings his eyes to mine, holding on in the quiet passing of the breeze. "Yeah. I think I have more dreams, though."

I smile, lifting a hand to his cheek. "Oh yeah? Then it seems you came to the right spot."

His smile mirrors mine. "I want to restore old cars, Red. I want to bring them back to life like I did this one. To give them a second chance. But I want football too. I want to go to New York and play. I want to major in automotive technology. I want to do it all. Is that crazy?"

"It's not crazy to chase a dream, Nolan. It's admirable."

I let my hand fall from his cheek as we look back at the view in front of us. It's truly breathtaking. All that Blueridge is, held within one snapshot of a view.

"Have you heard anything from the National Ballet Academy?"

"No. But they said two weeks. It's only been one."

He nods. "You're going to get in."

I glance over at him. "That's the dream."

"You know what else is the dream?" he asks. I look at him, waiting for the answer. "Taking you to Homecoming next week."

"Nolan..."

"I know," he stops me. "I know I can't take you. But I want more than anything to be the one to hold your hand when you dance, to take a ridiculously cheesy photo together, to bring you flowers and keep you out far too late."

I smile, thinking about how perfect such a night with him would be. "I want those things too."

"I know we can't go together, not officially, but will you be my date, Red?"

Heat fills my cheeks as I look up at him. "Yeah. I'd love to be your date."

He leans forward, kissing me. "Someday, I'll take you on a real date. One where I can hold your hand in public, kiss you on the open sidewalk, and laugh together at a restaurant."

"Someday." I nod, knowing that what I want more than anything is to be with him, and for the whole world to see it.