Er, wait. Love? I didn’t mean that. I couldn’t meant that.
“What was that?” I teased, too afraid of the direction of my thoughts to stay serious. “We’re a couple? Are you sure, because this is the first time I’m hearing about it.”
He smiled, in that self-deprecating way that told me he knew he’d slipped that profound declaration in a little too casually.
“Is that all right?” he asked, and it was the sweetest question I had ever heard in my entire life.
“Hmm, that depends,” I teased. “What exactly are you asking?”
Now his lips pursed into a frown, not nearly as happy with my question as I had been with his. “This is awkward as grown-ups,” he admitted. “If we were seventeen, I’d ask you to be my girlfriend.”
My smile was probably blinding him, but I couldn’t help it. “You could still ask me.”
Surprise flashed in his eyes, but it settled into that same mysterious affection I noticed earlier. God, I wanted to know what it was. I wanted him to open his mouth and spill all his secrets. I wanted to know every last thought in Vann Delane’s head because I was positive, I would love them all.
“Will you be my girlfriend, Dillon Baptiste? Exclusively?”
I nodded while I tried to find the ability to speak. It was a juvenile request of me to ask. And probably obsolete as most people our age didn’t sit down and ask each other to go steady with them. But I had never been formally asked to be anybody’s girlfriend before, so to me, it was everything. Everything I had been waiting for and wanting and needing.
And he wanted to be exclusive. Not that he ever had anything to worry about on my side, but dang, it was good to hear him say exactly what he wanted.
Sorry, but there was nothing wrong with a little define the relationship talk, especially when it led to such happy results.
“Yes,” I breathed, pushing the word past my lips. “Yes, I’d love to be your girlfriend, Vann Delane. I’m exclusively yours.”
Stepping closer to me, he wrapped me up in his arms and held me there for a long time. My cheek pressed against his chest, his heart beating steadily inside him. It was incredibly comfortable and wonderful and… safe.
I realized with Vann I felt nothing but safe.
“Are you ready for this?” he asked after a few minutes. “It’s going to be fun.”
“You say that like you’re convincing yourself.”
He took my hand and pulled me with him out of his office. “It is fun,” he insisted.
“See? You’re kind of backing up my point here.”
“There are tacos. And margaritas.”
“If I’m reading between the lines accurately,” I looked at him, suppressing a smile, “and I do believe that I am, this whole bike ride thing is going to suck but you’re reminding me that there will be food and libations if I persevere through the sucky parts of it.”
His smile and rumble of laughter was enough to send tingles racing through my body. “What? That’s crazy.”
I couldn’t help but smile in return, even if I knew I was exactly right. “Uh-huh.”
“I bought you something,” he murmured, the smile never dimming. “I mean, you know I own the shop and everything. But I promise I picked this out just for you.”
I repeated the words echoing through my head. “Wait, what?”
We stepped outside into the hot early August heat and I nearly melted right then and there, next to the prettiest Tiffany Blue bike with a comfy white banana seat and a basket between the handlebars. There was even a pretty pink bow tied around the front.
The realization of what was happening hit me like a ton of bricks and for a second time, I said, “Wait. What? Are you serious?” He wore the most beautiful smile yet. It was his biggest, his brightest, his most blinding. This was, hands down, the most stunning creature I had ever laid eyes on. “Vann, did you buy me this bike?”
He tucked his hands into his pocket and grinned away.
“Vann, for real, is this for me?”
He shrugged. And shuffled his foot. “You’re always complaining about how uncomfortable bike seats are.”
