stare at each other for a while, the air thickening.
I try to focus.
“So, this museum. How did you get us here after hours?”
Muscles shift under his shirt when he gives a small shrug.
“I bribed the security guy.”
I fix him with a look. “Bribed how?”
“With a Taylor Swift ticket.”
My chest warms so fast it can’t be healthy.
“He was a Swiftie,” he adds earnestly, like that explains it. “It just happened.”
“It didn’t just happen, you made it happen. For me.”
“I wanted to make you happy. Besides, I bought the ticket ages ago on a
whim. So it’s not a big deal.”
I feel faint.
“Not a big deal? You don’t even care about history!”
“Hey, that’s not true,” he protests. “I care about it. Not as much as you, but, like, the normal amount.”
“That’s not what Steve said.”
“Steve’s an idiot.”
“Okay,” I say, unable to resist the opportunity, “give me a historical fact.”
His mind goes blank. I watch it happen.
“Um… cave paintings?”
He looks so pleased with himself that I want to kiss every inch of him.
“They were all the rage in the–uh–the Paleolithic era, right?”
My breath stutters.
“Stop talking dirty to me,” I groan, only half-joking.
“You like this? Okay, how about—hieroglyphs.”
I’m gone. Destroyed. A puddle of gooey substance.
“That’s all I got.”His eyes sparkle. “But now that I know the effect history words have on you, I’m going to study the hell out of them.”
How did I get this lucky?
“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
The words just slipped out.
