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name? Travis."
I blushed and looked away. My fuck buddy.
"And I didnt . . ." her voice trailed off for a moment. "I didnt want to just have a fling with you. I wanted more than just a one night stand."
"Why?"
"I dont know," she replied. "I think it was because I didnt meet you in a bar. You were more than just a girl I could fuck and then leave the next day."
Inwardly, my stomach flipped, and not in the bad way. McKayla was telling me that she felt the same way I did about "us". My pulse began to race.
McKaylas arms tensed around me, pulling me close to her. She took a deep breath. "Ive been praying a lot lately. Ive been looking for direction. For purpose . . ."
I kissed her gently on the cheek. Her mask of certainty slipped away. My hands closed over hers and I squeezed her reassuringly. It was good to know that she reciprocated the feelings I had for her. I also wanted to take this woman in my arms and hold on to her. Maybe it was some maternal instinct to protect the people we care about.
Or maybe I was falling in love.
Her lips met mine and I melted into her embrace. The two of us stayed like that for a long time. Neither of us said anything else. We didnt have to.
The moon was out before we got up and went inside.
"I have something for you," McKayla said, letting go of my hand and pushing the sliding glass door open. "Ill be right back."
When she returned, she held a box that was wrapped in elegant silver paper with a big bow. It was a lot heavier than I expected. I looked up at her incredulously. She only smiled.
I slipped the paper off the parcel and opened up the box. Inside was a thick, leather-bound book. There was a faux-lock on the cover, like you might see on a wizards spellbook in a Lord of the Rings movie. The pages were thick and gilded with gold. The volume had been carefully made up to appear as it had come to life from a fantasy world.
My eyes welled up as I read the words on the cover, The Elfstones of Shannara.
"Where did you—?" I gasped.
McKayla smiled—that beautiful, haunting smile that made my heart melt—and pulled me close. "Theres this thing . . . its called the internet . . ."
I was laughing and crying at the same time. I pressed my forehead against hers. Our noses brushed together.
"Thank you," I whispered.
"Youre welcome," she replied warmly and we kissed again. "Just one thing, though: You just have to promise that youre not going to turn into a giant tree."
Tears began to roll down my cheeks. It had been years since I had read the story, but I knew the gist of it and how my namesake ended up at the end of the book.
"You read it?" I asked. I set the book down on
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the kitchen table and took McKayla in my arms.
"Of course," my lover replied. That was a silly question; McKayla read anything and everything she could get her hands on. I bet that she got through the entire book in a few days. "Its a good story."
"You know," I wiped the tears from my eyes. I kissed her playfully. "If I do turn into the tree, Ill protect you and the rest of the elves from the demons."
McKayla pressed against me. Her grasp was firm, almost desperate. I tilted my head back as her lips descended on mine. This kiss was hungry and primal. My arms wrapped around her.
"Youre doing that anyway, Amberle," her whisper was so soft I almost didnt hear her.
I could hear the blood pounding through my veins. I could feel her heart beating next to mine. Her touch was hot. Her face flush. I looked McKayla in the eyes and saw something there I had never seen before. It was more than lust or desire. It was love.
We stood in the kitchen holding one another for a long time. I never felt rushed around McKayla. I never felt like she was trying to hurry me into bed. I loved that she was just as content to hold my hand as to feel me up. When we were together, we could lay against one another without tickling or groping (not that those didnt have their places, though . . .) and be content just laying next to one another.
"Where did you get the book?" I asked finally.
"Theres a store in California that specialises in that sort of thing. One shot collectable type books," she smiled, apparently happy that I liked her gift. "For fantasy geeks."
"It must have cost a fortune," I started. "You didnt have to do that."
"I wanted to," McKayla said simply.
"Well, I love it," I told her. The smile I returned to her was a little subdued, a little bitter. "My parents would have liked it, too."
"What were they like?" she asked.
"They were dorks," I didnt mean that in the bad way. "They liked to read almost as much as you do. They used to play dress-up, too, and theyd make us go along. They belonged to a group called SCA: the Society for Creative Anachronism. Ever heard of them?"
"I have," McKayla grinned broadly. "Dont tell me they used to put you in costumes and take you to Renaissance Fairs?"
"They did!"
"Got any pictures?" she asked teasingly.
"Not that Im going to show you," I retorted playfully.
She leaned in and kissed me again.
"They loved fantasy books and all that stuff." Talking about my parents brought back a flood of happy memories. "When other kids parents belonged to bowling leagues or had poker games, my folks were making my little brother chainmail armour out of paper clips or playing Dungeons & Dragons with their equally dorky friends."
"Its a wonder you turned out as normal as you did," McKayla said and there was something in her voice that sounded
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