“Way,” he replies.
It’s impossible to describe the feeling inside me.
Devin is SunshineGuy.
All those late-night debates about whether instant connection is real. All those times I rolled my eyes at his romantic optimism while secretly looking forward to his next message. That was Devin. It’s always been Devin.
It appears I’ve spent the last two years arguing with my soulmate about whether soulmates exist.
It’s like discovering that the two separate blueprints I’ve been studying were actually different views of the same structure all along, and now they’re snapping together into something so complete it should have been obvious from the start.
The feeling inside me bubbles out of me in two words. “Marry me.”
Oh my god, I can’t believe those words just exited my mouth without clearance from any rational part of my brain.
I’m horrified. Mortified. Completely fucking terrified of what I’ve just said aloud.
But Devin doesn’t seem at all fazed by me proposing to him the morning after our first date.
Instead, his smile spreads even further.
“One day,” he replies.
Of coursewe end up back in bed after breakfast. Because what else are we supposed to do with our discovery? Continue our endless chats about the feasibility of various love stories? Create a new spreadsheet?
No, we fall back into bed and let our bodies finish the arguments our brains have been having for years.
It’s round three of studying our intense sexual connection. I have a feeling that this particular subject might become the most well-investigated thesis of my entire life. Forget engineering. I want a PhD in the way Devin’s breathing changes when I kiss that spot just below his ear.
Now it’s almost lunchtime, and we’re just lying in bed gazing at each other. He’s stroking his hand along my forearms in lazy, hypnotic patterns that are shorting out my brain.
Yes, I, Travis Sinclair, am lying in bed with Devin, a.k.a. SunshineGuy, the one person who could make me believe in every ridiculous love story I’ve ever debunked, because, apparently, weareone of those statistically impossible,completely illogical, absolutely perfect matches I’ve sworn don’t exist.
“So, I was just thinking I’ve got every incentive for this to work so I can prove I was right,” he says to me.
I clear my throat. “Luckily for you, I want you more than I want to prove you wrong.”
He smiles. “That might be the most romantic thing you’ve said to me. Well, despite the proposal at breakfast.”
I flush.
“Don’t be embarrassed. Or maybe you should be. You’re cute when you blush,” he teases.
My phone beeps, and I pick it up, taking the opportunity to tamp down the level of heat radiating from my face right now.
I groan when I see the message is from my brother. Shit, another person I’m going to have to put up with gloating from for all of eternity.
Brocker
So…how did your date go?
Might as well get it over with.
Travis
Yeah, it turns out he’s my soulmate, so I guess I should thank you for your interfering ways.
Brocker
