My thirtieth birthday finds me awake at the first light of dawn, as the sun's morning rays paint the sky outside my bedroom window in gradient pastels. I could blame the usual city noises for rousing me from my dreams, but I doubt the sirens or car alarms are at fault. Anticipation is, and so are my nerves.
Last Saturday began as an up-in-the-air, casual reunion with Phoenix to hear what he had to say and figure out how I felt. Today is an actual date. When he asked if he could pick me up at my place, I had no reservations about texting him my address. The concerns I had at this time last week about my home being my sanctuary and inviting him in have vanished into the ethers, so I can't explain my racing heartbeat as I lie in bed, thinking about our plans.
Not that I have insight into what those plans are. He hasn't told me where we're going. I tried to pry it out of him a couple of times this week, in text conversations and when he called me. He would only say dinner is involved and we'll be near the coast, so to bring a sweater or jacket. Outfit planning with these vague details has been a challenge. His answer when I asked if dinner is at a casual place or somewhere dressier didn't clear things up.
You'll be perfect no matter what you wear, he replied. You always are.
I wish I could say the compliment didn't make me smile at my phone. I wish I could say I haven't thought about our kiss and how I want to kiss him again about eighty-four million times since leaving his house on Sunday. The person I became after he exited my life is normally much more grounded than the version of me that has emerged this week, especially with men and dating. No one I've gone on dates with since the last time I dated Phoenix has knocked me off-balance or sent my head soaring into the clouds like this.
Perhaps that's where my nerves come in. It's a little terrifying to feel this way so soon, but then, Phoenix isn't a stranger. We spent two years together, even if there are pieces of his life since then I need to catch up on now. What are the rules when it's someone you have a history with and have been deeply intimate with, or are there any? This is new territory for me, and my brain is working overtime to make sense of it all. For the sake of my sleeping habits, I would really like it to take a break.
I bury my head in my pillow, blocking out the sunlight from outside and trying to muffle my internal chatter. More rest is what I need, and not this. There are hours to go until Phoenix gets here, and I don't want to be exhausted tonight.
Focus on breathing. Focus on one second at a time. Focus on right now.
I try this for a while, and then I close my eyes and resort to mentally repeating a mantra I learned a few years ago in a meditation class I took to reduce the anxiety I had then and remain in the present, during a time I was prone to dwelling on the past. It must work, because it's after nine o'clock when I next open my eyes, and I'm calmer than I was in the early hours. Now I just have to stay that way.
I take my time getting out of bed. Once I'm up, I make my way to the kitchen to brew a cup of coffee. My doorbell rings as I'm pouring water into the coffee maker. I freeze, mid-pour. It can't be Ava, because she's in New York. My family lives on the other side of the country and wouldn't show up unannounced. That leaves Phoenix, but he isn't supposed to come by until late this afternoon. I haven't showered yet, and I'm still bleary-eyed and in my pajamas. Did I somehow get the time wrong?
I abandon the coffee maker and hurry to the door, combing my fingers through my hair as I do. When I get there and glance through the peephole, I'm relieved to see a woman I don't know holding a floral arrangement.
"Hi," I greet her, opening the door.
"Delaney?" she asks. I nod, and she hands over the largest and most fragrant arrangement of long-stemmed roses I've ever had in my possession.
"Thank you," I call out as she leaves.
After nudging the door shut with my foot, I carry the flowers to the kitchen and set them on the counter. There are definitely more than a dozen flame-red roses in the glass vase, mixed with greens and sprigs of baby's breath. There might be more than two dozen, actually. Curious, I count them. There are thirty roses in total.
Thirty roses for thirty years old. Someone put thought into this. I spot a card nestled among the flowers and reach for it.
Del,
You are brighter than the sunrise, more stunning than the sunset, more exquisite than the constellations, and the most loving and talented soul I have ever known. Wishing you a birthday as wondrous and beautiful as you are. Thank you for letting me be part of your day.
-Phoenix
Holy freaking everything.
I expected today to involve romantic moments with Phoenix, picking up where we left off on Sunday and building on some of the cute and slightly flirty texts we've exchanged since. I didn't expect the roses or his message on the card.
"This is real, right?" I ask out loud, reading the words for a second time. It feels more like I've landed in the middle of a dream I'd rather not wake up from.
There was a time when I would have immediately sent Ava a photo of the roses and the card. She used to gush with me about Phoenix's romantic gestures and sweet words when I was first getting to know him and starting to fall. But our conversation from earlier in the week weighs on my mind. It's tough to predict what her response would be if I told her about this, or if she'd simply remind me to find out everything I'm wondering about and not to fall too fast.
Texting her might be out, but I should send a note to Phoenix to thank him for the flowers. I finish setting up the coffee maker and leave it to brew, then head for my bedroom where I left my phone plugged into its charger on the bedside table.
A birthday greeting from Ava is the first thing that greets my eyes when I tap the screen.
Happy birthday! I love you to the moon and back. I hope you have the most incredible day and that you get nothing less than the princess treatment. Have a great time on your date tonight, wherever the night takes you. Talk soon xoxo
Something in me softens. No matter what her reservations about Phoenix are, and no matter how cautious she thinks I should be, Ava is still my best friend. It's clear she's in my corner and is trying to be supportive, even if she's concerned and wants me to be careful. I may decide to tell her about the roses and the card, but it can wait until after my night out.
Thank you! Miss your face and a little jealous NYC gets you this weekend. See you in a few days! ð
I send the text to Ava, close it, and open my conversation with Phoenix. The last message I have from him was from one minute after midnight, when he texted to say happy birthday and to let me know he had just gotten to his house in Laguna Beach after a few hours on the road.
Thank you for the roses, they're gorgeous! And that card... wow. I'm speechless.
It doesn't take him long to answer. Was the card too much?
Don't tell the guy who sent it, but the card is perfect.
Not a word. My lips are sealed.
A flirty reply takes form, and I put it in a message before I have a chance to filter myself.
Not completely sealed, I hope, or at least not when it comes to other things you'd use them for...ð
Hmmm. What other things are you thinking of?
You'll have to use your imagination, then show me what you come up with later. See you soon!
ð ...
I laugh at the eyeballs, but there's a butterfly on the loose inside of me when I put my phone down and return to the kitchen.Auto-pilot takes over while I spoon sugar into my coffee, with thoughts of roses and everything I'm already aware Phoenix's lips are capable of now occupying my mind.
༺â༻ ༺â༻ ༺â༻
When my doorbell rings again at three-thirty, I'm showered, dressed, and ready for the person on the other side. Or I think I am until I open the door and lock eyes with Phoenix for the first time since I left his house last weekend. The warmth and unbridled happiness that exudes from him, including the sparkle in his eyes, the curve of his mouth, and what I swear must be his energetic field, renders me senseless for a good five seconds.
I don't even realize he has something in his hands until he holds out a small cube to me. "Happy birthday."
"Thank you." I take it from him, our fingers brushing together as I do. A single red rose is inside of the cube, and the color of it is the same as the ones that arrived this morning. It's just the flower, with no stems or leaves, encased in a clear acrylic box.
"It's an infinity rose," he explains. "The other ones will last for a week or so, but I wanted you to have one that would last for this whole year of your life."
"I didn't know these existed. It's beautiful."
"So are you." He touches my arm, which has the effect of sending tingles up and down it and all over my body.
"Come in for a second," I say, realizing he's still in the hallway. He steps inside and I close the door behind him, then set the rose on a nearby table. "You're spoiling me with all the roses."
"Nope. It doesn't even compare to what you've given me by saying yes to today."
He kisses the top of my head and puts his arms around me. I lean into him, resting my head against his shoulder. This feels so natural today, and like I could just angle my chin up, meet his lips, and lose myself in kissing him the way we kissed last weekend. There's also a part of me that wants him to take the lead this time and make the first move that goes beyond fleeting touches and lingering hugs, even though he might be waiting for a signal from me.
Maybe he reads something in my hug, or maybe it was our text exchange earlier that does it. Wherever the motivation comes from, he releases his arms so he can brush the hair away from one side of my neck, then dips his head lower. I hold my breath in anticipation, because even though it's been a while, I remember what comes next.
He doesn't disappoint me. His mouth is soft as he trails gentle kisses along the sensitive skin from my collarbone up to just below my ear. My head tilts seemingly on its own, on instinct, giving him greater access to my neck. His lips feel like heaven and the devil's work at the same time.
"Is this what you meant earlier about using my imagination and showing you what I came up with?" His teeth graze my earlobe, and my self-restraint comes precariously close to flying out the window as I clutch his arms in an attempt to remain steady on my feet.
"Gold star," I manage to tell him.
"Glad you rate it so highly." He continues to my jawline.
I no longer have words to reply with, but it doesn't matter. A second later, his lips find mine, and our kiss does the talking for both of us. I thought last weekend was something, but this is a brand-new level of fireworks that leaves me breathless and dizzy when we finally come up for air.
"That was quite the hello, Mr. Alden." I'm still holding onto him, trying to regain my balance as I gulp in a couple of breaths.
"Was it too much?" Genuine concern flickers across his face, like he fears he took it too far and needs to dial it back to the innocence level of last Saturday night. We aren't going back there if I have anything to say about it.
"Did I seem like I wanted you to stop?" In case the answer isn't clear, I press my mouth to the hollow of his throat, and then take my time working my way up his neck. "Let me know if it's too much for you."
The flash of desire in his eyes is reply enough on its own. He bends his head over mine and kisses me again, but it's slower and more controlled this time. I feel him smile, which causes laughter to bubble up inside of me.
This reminds me of how we used to be. I missed this more than I knew.
"I'm trying to remember that we have to be in Marina del Rey by four-thirty." Phoenix leans his forehead against mine.
"Finally, a detail," I tease. "What's in Marina del Rey?"
"It's a surprise."
He's full of surprises today, between the long-stemmed roses and the card, and the infinity rose, and a greeting better than what I imagined. I know there are important things we need to continue talking about. I also know I should listen to Ava's advice from the other day and not get in too deep before I find out everything I have questions about. It's my birthday, though, and so far it's playing out like a fairy tale. All I want to do for the next few hours is see where the evening takes us and stay floating among the stars, come whatever may.