Page 132 of The Fast Lane
He looked over at me just once after he sat, his eyes warm and full of love. The dragons and their wings were performing a Cirque du Soleil act in my stomach.
The dancing started soon after. Like we’d planned it, we found each other and met on the edge of the dance floor. Standing close, but not too close.
“That poem was terrible.” I clasped my hands in front of me even though I wanted to touch him.
Smiling, he shook his head. “It’s my favorite poem. I have it memorized.”
“Have you really kept it in your wallet all these years?”
“Also, true.”
“It’s like I don’t know you.”
He took a step closer. “You know me. You know all the important things.”
“I want to find out all the other things, too.” I bit my lip. “But I’m scared this won’t work out somehow. Or I’ll screw it up. Or you’ll realize I’m not worth the trouble.”
“You don’t think I’m not scared?” He slid a hand down my arm and threaded his fingers with mine. “I’m scared of all those things too. But you know what’s bigger than the fear?”
I shook my head.
He brought our joined hands to rest on his chest, above his heart. “It’s how I feel about you.”
“Oh,” I breathed.
“You’re stuck with me. I’m not going anywhere,” he said, his voice firm. “If I need to spend the next month, year, decade proving that to you, I will. I’ll write you poems and bake you your favorite cake and scare off any man who starts looking a little too friendly and remind you every single minute that I love you.”
“You will?”
“I will. Like I said, when you find the person who makes you feel like you’re home, you do everything you can to hold onto them.”
My mouth lifted slowly in a trembling smile. “I might drive you crazy sometimes.”
“Go for it. Do your worst.”
“I can be a menace.”
He shrugged, not looking the least bit concerned. “Don’t forget slightly unhinged.”
“That, too.”
“But you’re also sweet and kind and funny and up for any challenge and loyal and fierce, and when you smile at me, I feel like I could do anything.”
I stared up into his eyes, those blue, blue eyes shining back at me with such love. “I love you.” A laugh escaped me. “I really, really love you.”
One minute, he was smiling at me, the next I was wrapped in his arms, and he was kissing me, a slow, lingering kiss, a promise. When we broke apart, he rested his forehead on mine.
“I do have to tell you something,” he said. “I’m moving.”
I frowned and tried to pull away. His arms tightened around me. “What? You can’t just say all that and then tell me you’re moving to Chicag?—”
He put a finger on my mouth. “To Two Harts. I’m moving to Two Harts. I want to make sure I’m able to vote in the next election. Someone I know is running for mayor. And she’s smart and hardworking and loves that town. She’s going to do amazing things.”
My eyes narrowed. “I haven’t even told you I planned to run.”
He held his palm out. “Don’t get mad.”
“About what?”