I’ll do it right … “Tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at six?”
“For poker night?”
“No. Before that. Just us.” I step closer, drawn to her like gravity. “I want to take you on an actual date. No emergencies. No blizzards. No mascot costumes. No interruptions. Just you and me.”
Her expression softens. “A date.”
“A real one. The kind where I pick you up at your door, your grandmother interrogates me, and I promise to have you home at a reasonable hour.”
She giggles. “Grandma Joyce will love that.”
“I’m counting on it.” I reach for her hand, threading our fingers together. “So? Will you go out with me, Parks & Rec Princess?”
“I’d love to.”
“Six o’clock.”
“Don’t be late.”
“I’m never late.”
“You were on Monday morning.”
“That was—” She stops, tilting her head. “You noticed?”
I pull her closer until there’s barely any space between us. “I notice everything about you.”
My gaze strays across her face, not sure where to land—the flush in her cheeks, her parted lips, the way her breath snags. Then our eyes tangle together and everything clicks into place.
Close contact clears the fog that’s been sitting heavy in my heart for years. I bury one hand in her hair, the soft strands sliding through my fingers, while my other hand traces the line of her jaw. My lips follow—brushing her neck and finding a soft spot behind her earlobe. She shivers. I kiss the dip in her collarbone, feel her pulse racing there.
When I lift her hand to my mouth and press a kiss to the inside of her wrist, then each knuckle. A long sigh escapes her chest. She gives my shirt a gentle tug, pulling me toward her mouth, sweet yet wanting.
Our lips crash together.
This kiss isn’t soft or tentative like before. It’s raw and deep and full of everything I can’t quite say yet.
Her arms drape around my shoulders, drawing me closer. Iwrap my arms around her waist like I can anchor her here, in this moment, where nothing else matters.
Not the bet, not stress, not fears.
Entranced by each other, it’s like we run as far away as possible from the real world, toward each other.
When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing hard.
I walk Winnie to her car, holding her hand the entire way. When she’s safely inside, I lean down to her window. “Text me when you’re home.”
She smiles a sparkly, starry night smile. “You’re bossy.”
“You like it.”
“Maybe.” She starts the engine. “Goodnight, Patton.”
“Goodnight, Winnie.”
I watch her taillights disappear into the night. Cheeks frozen in place, I head back inside to finish cleaning up. Austin is back, eating a Crush Cake he absolutely doesn’t deserve.
Around a mouthful, he says, “Whoa. That’s quite the smile you’re wearing. Tomorrow night should be interesting.”
