All of It (42 page)

Just as I’m about to look up and get my bearings to find the exit leading to the hallway, it happens. I step forward too quickly, and my foot snags the side of some innocent by-stander’s shoe. It’s too late to avoid the fall, but I try to execute it with as much grace as I can muster. I fall to the right, as the foot I’ve just assaulted is on the left. I land splayed out, face down, in the open hallway. My bag skids across the floor and stops against the wall on the other side. I’m not hurt but the humiliation is absolutely painful. For a moment, I rest my face on the backs of my hands, which have broken the worst of my fall.

It all happens in slow motion. I raise my head and sneak a peek through my hair that is shielding me from the person to whom I owe an apology.

I see black Converse shoes. They’re worn through in places, but they’re clean and neat. God, I love Converse. Guys look really hot in them.

I sweep my hair aside and smile weakly, my eyes running from the shoes, to the dark jeans (they fit well, that’s two points to the assaulted), to the faded T-shirt fit snugly over a thin, lean, muscular build, and then the instant before I see his face, his hand is extended down blocking my view. He’s trying to help me up. With the flames of embarrassment rising in my cheeks, I accept his hand. It’s strong and firm, but gentle at the same time. He pulls me slowly to a standing position, where I can get a better look at him. He’s tall and skinny; just
right
skinny. I
love
just right skinny. I look up at him and he smiles. The smile lights up his beautiful gray eyes.

My breath catches in my throat. It’s the boy from my dreams. I would know him anywhere. I exhale slowly and a smile melts through my lips, across my cheeks, and settles deep inside my heart.

His smile turns mischievous.

I love it when he does that.

“Hi, my name’s Veronica.”

“Hi, I’m Dimitri.” His voice is quiet, but confident.

• • •

Life is sometimes … memorable, wet (and beautiful), a racing heart, like a dream, tingly and covered with goose bumps, gentlemanly, sexy, imperfect, consumed with guilt, bruised and broken, over-thought, destined, an epiphany, mind-blowing, dead, whatever your heart tells you, incessant, finding something to live for, just a series of goodbyes, auspicious, enduring, just right, your past and your future, ceremonious, burning, a waiting game, a gift, looking back, just life … and death …
never-ending
.

Achieving dreams is hard work. It requires tireless dedication, luck, and an amazing support system—in equal parts. That being said, I would like to thank, from the bottom of my heart, the following:

My editor, Monica Parpal: who blessed me with her intelligence, talent, honesty, and kindness. She is a rock star! Without her,
All of It
would not have reached publication.

My first readers: Brandon, Mom, Marg, Barb, Robin, Debbie, Anne, and Liz. Your encouragement and support made all the difference. You helped make my dream a reality.

My parents: who always told me that anything is possible. They’ve cheered me on through every stage of my life. I still enjoy making them proud.

Creativity requires constant inspiration. For me inspiration comes in many forms: people, books, nature, and art. Personally, my writing process requires music. Constantly. Lots and lots of music. So, to anyone out there creating and sharing your music with the world—I thank you. Music provokes thought. Music evokes emotion. Music makes everything better …

And last, but not least, thank you to my husband, Brandon (my Dimitri), and our son, Phoenix: my two favorite people on the entire planet. I love you. (Love isn’t a big enough word).

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Kim Holden lives in Denver, Colorado with her husband, Brandon, and their son, Phoenix.

To find out more visit her at
kimholdenbooks.com