He pulls back, cups my face. "Never doubt me when it comes to keeping you."
"Okay."
"Say it."
"I won't doubt you."
"Good girl." He kisses me, deep and thorough, and I melt into it. When he pulls back, his eyes are warm. "Tonight. My place. We're celebrating."
"How?"
His smile is wicked. "You'll see."
The rest of the day passes in a blur. I'm floating, untethered, giddy with relief. We did it. We're official. We get to be together.
When my shift ends, I practically run to my car.
Me: On my way.
Justin: Good. I have plans for you.
Me: Should I be nervous?
Justin: Definitely.
I drive to his place with butterflies in my stomach, anticipation making my skin tingle. When I pull into the driveway, the house is lit up, warm and welcoming.
He opens the door before I knock, pulls me inside, kisses me breathless.
"Hi," I gasp when he finally lets me breathe.
"Hi." He takes my hand, leads me toward the dining room. "Close your eyes."
"Why?"
"Because I'm asking you to."
I close them. He guides me forward, his hand steady on my waist.
"Okay," he says. "Open."
The dining room is transformed. Candles everywhere, they are on the table, the mantle, the windowsills. Rose petals arescattered across the table. Two place settings with what looks like an elaborate meal already plated.
"Justin," I breathe. "This is?—"
"A celebration. Of us. Of making it through the hard part." He pulls out my chair. "Sit."
I do, taking in the scene. Filet mignon, roasted vegetables, what looks like homemade mashed potatoes. The wine already poured. No one had ever done anything like this for me before.
"You made all this?"
"I did." He settles across from me. "You're worth the effort."
My chest tightens. "I don't know what to say."
"Say you'll stay. Tonight. Tomorrow. Every night you can." He produces a key to his house and hands it to me. We’re moving fast… but I don’t care. It feels right.
"Yes. Of course yes."
