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“What’s this?” you asked, turning over the small, wrapped object your boyfriend had given you. It was plain, brown paper, and had been somewhat messily wrapped, probably in a rush, but your heart had skipped a beat as Steve handed it to you from where he’d been hiding it behind his back. You had no idea what it could be, or if there was a reason. Not that Steve needed any reason to give you things, though he usually stuck to flowers, or food, or one of the shirts you’d been begging to “borrow.”
“Just open it,” he encouraged, shaking his head with a smile. Steve was sitting on the edge of your bed, one leg crossed underneath him, the other dangling over the edge of your bed. He looked pretty, sitting on your soft quilt, staring at you adoringly with his warm hazel eyes. The way he was biting at the inside of his lip — his nervous habit that he always insisted he didn’t do — didn’t go unnoticed by you, though you chose not to comment on it.
“Okay, okay, I’m doing it,” you grumbled, though you were smiling at him. Your fingers slid underneath the paper, peeling back the tape as you unwrapped the object delicately. Immediately, you could tell that it was a book, something hardcover, and your eyes flickered with joy as you glanced up at Steve, who was still smiling at you nervously.
Flipping the book over to read its title, you let out a small gasp, eyes wide as your head snapped up to look at Steve again. It was your favorite book, a special edition that you’d been looking at in the local bookshop a few weeks ago, but had resisted buying.
“Whatchya got, baby?” Steve asked from over your shoulder, seemingly appearing out of nowhere as he settled one of his palms on your hip.
You held the book up for him to see, smoothing a hand over the cover lovingly before glancing back at him, “My favorite book. It’s a special edition; signed by the author and stuff.”
Steve nodded thoughtfully, leaning forward to rest his chin on your shoulder. His nose nudged into your cheekbone as he pressed a kiss near your jaw, genuine curiosity in his voice as he asked, “What’s it about?”
Before you could stop yourself, you’d launched into the whole story. The characters, the romance, the action, the plot twists. You were passionate about books, about reading, and sometimes could get carried away before you even realized that you’d been ranting. Steve loved that about you, though. He loved the way your face lit up when you talked about books, and that was more than enough to listen to you talk about it for hours.
As always, Steve was listening intently, and couldn’t help but frown as you cut yourself off, realizing that you’d been rambling for a few minutes. Tilting your head back, you gave him a sheepish smile, “Sorry, I didn’t realize I was rambling…”
“None of that,” Steve huffed, arms sliding around your waist to pull your back fully against his chest, “I like listening to you talk about books. Actually, I just like listening to you talk in general.”
Your cheeks filled with warmth as you leaned into Steve’s touch, against his solid chest, “Oh, stop it.”
“I’m serious!” he protested, head dipping down to press a kiss to the crook of your neck, “You could talk for hours about, like, molecular biology, or something, and I’d be listening intently the entire time.”
Giggling, you twisted in his arms so he could see your face when you rolled your eyes, “You’re so full of it, babe.”
He huffed, hands moving so he could cup your jaw carefully, “Am not!”
“Okay, whatever you say,” you replied, leaning up on your toes slightly so your lips brushed over his. His thumb swept over your cheek and his lips pressed to yours, ignoring the comment. You could feel his smile against your lips, and you wished you weren’t holding the book, so you could hold him close instead.
You finally pulled back, though Steve pressed one last kiss to the corner of your lips. Turning in his arms, you placed the book back down in the spot you picked it up from. Steve’s eyebrows furrowed together, glancing down at you in confusion. You’d just talked about your love for the book for nearly five minutes, but you weren’t going to buy it? He voiced his concern, “What are you doing, baby? You’re not going to get it?”
Shrugging your shoulders, you slipped out of the space between Steve’s arms and the table you’d been standing at, “I shouldn’t.”
“Why not?” Steve asked incredulously, moving to grab the book for you, “You talked so highly of it, I think I need to read it.”
“Well, I already have a copy that you can borrow,” you grabbed at his wrist to stop him, “and besides, I shouldn’t be spending my money on more books.”
Steve stared at you for a few moments, your hand still grasping his wrist as he tried to decide what to do. He decided to nod, but promised himself he’d come back to get it for you later, without you knowing.
That had been a few weeks ago. And in that time, Steve had gone back to the bookshop on his own, and bought the book for you.
“Steve!” you exclaimed, hugging the book to your chest as you grinned at your boyfriend, “You didn’t have to buy this.”
“I wanted to,” Steve replied earnestly, feeling a bit of relief at the way you lit up again, and reached out to set his palm on your calf gently. “The way you talked about the book… you were just so happy. And I like seeing you happy. Plus, you said it was a special edition? Signed by the author and stuff? So I wanted you to have it.” His other hand had lifted, scratching at the hair at the nape of his neck; he was nervous for you to finally open the book.
“Thank you, Steve, really,” you sighed happily, keeping the book clutched to your chest with one arm, leaning forward on the other to press a kiss to his cheek.
A soft pink filled Steve’s cheeks at your action and he shook his head, “No need to thank me, baby. Open it up.” Your fingers slipped between the pages about halfway through the book, and you began thumbing through a few of the extras that had been promised in this edition of the book. Leg bouncing with jitters, Steve tried again, “You… you should, um, look at the first few pages.”
You gave Steve a bemused look, eyes narrowing at him slightly, but did as he suggested, and opened the book up from the beginning. There, on one of the first pages was an inscription written in what was unmistakably Steve’s messy handwriting. You couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped your lips as your eyes flicked up to Steve, who was smiling nervously, before you looked back down to read what he’d written.
He’d scribbled the date he’d written the note near the top of the page, followed by your name, and then his favorite term of endearment for you; one he saved mostly for special moments.
My love,I had to go back to buy this for you after seeing you talk about it. You know I’m not a big reader, but maybe we could read it together? I love you to the moon and back again. And again. And again.
Love,
Steve
Your love for Steve in that moment was overwhelming, bursting in your chest as tears began to form at the corner of your eyes. You launched yourself forward, dropping the book onto the bed next to you in the process as you threw your arms around Steve’s neck, nearly knocking him off of the bed. His name came out of your mouth choked, into the crook of his neck, “Steve.”
Steve’s heart was beating wildly as one hand moved behind him to steady himself, the other wrapping around your waist, holding you as tight as he possibly could. Once he knew he wasn’t going to topple to the ground and bring you with him, he moved his hand to cup the back of your head. He turned his head just enough to nudge his nose into your hair, just above your ear, and murmured, “D’ya like it?”
You pulled back just enough to look at him, staring into his warm eyes as they searched yours nervously. Nervous still, even when you’d just thrown yourself at him. Letting out a shocked laugh, you swiped one hand under your eyes to wipe away a few of the tears as your other hand came up to cup his jaw, “Steve, baby. I love it. Thank you.” Your thumb brushed out over his cheek, over the little bit of stubble that was starting to grow, as you stared at your boyfriend for a moment, feeling like your heart was going to burst out of your chest. Leaning in, you planted a kiss squarely on his lips, soft but firmly as if to get your point across, “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” he replied, response immediate, voice tender. The tip of his nose brushed against yours as he leaned in for another kiss that was nothing but smiles. After a moment, he added, “Could we read it together?”
“You want to?” you asked, heart fluttering once again as you lifted a hand to stroke through his hair and push it out of his face.
“Of course. You love it, and I wanna know more so we can talk about it. I’m just… just not very good at reading myself. I figured if we read it together, I’d like it more, and—“
“I understand. I’d love to read it with you, Stevie. It means a lot that you want to read it, too.”
Later that evening, wearing nothing but a pair of underwear and one of Steve’s old shirts, you crawled underneath the covers next to him, grabbing the book on your way. Steve was propped up against the headboard, holding his arm out towards you so he could move into his grasp. You settled into his side and his arm curled around your shoulders, pulling you into his bare chest. His fingertips grazed over your skin, just underneath the hem of the sleeve as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “Ready?”
“Are you?” you asked teasingly. Opening the book to the page Steve had written on, you swept your fingers over the writing as you read it one more time. Tilting your head back so you could glance up at Steve, you grinned, “Some guy confessed his undying love for someone on here. Cheesy, right?”
“Baaaabe,” Steve groaned, pressing his forehead against your shoulder as his cheeks flushed.
“I’m teasing, baby. I love it. I think my heart is going to explode every time I see it. I’m going to cherish this forever.”
Steve’s hand moved, palm cupping your bicep to squeeze it gently, “It’s true, you know. I love you to the moon and back again. ‘M glad you like the book.”
Pressing your head into Steve’s chest, you leafed through the next few pages, murmuring before you started reading aloud, “I love you, too, baby. And again, and again, and again.”