“Well then, Wheeler, let’s have a conversation.” Now thathe’s made eye contact, we’re locked. I couldn’t look away to save my life.
My stomach lurches. I’m getting braver, but sincerity is still the scariest thing. “Three questions.”
He nods to the water. “Do you mind if I get in?”
Yes. No.My heart thrums painfully. “I won’t stop you.”
He cocks his head to the side, annoyed. “See, you’re being evasive already.”
“Me?” I gasp in faux surprise. “I’m not the one who refused to answer my Would You Rather question.”
“It won’t happen again,” he promises. He unbuttons his jeans. “Fair warning, I’m going to take off my pants now.” Maybe it’s the heat, but I’m suddenly lightheaded. I don’t remember what we were talking about. A soft sigh escapes his lips as he sinks into the hot water.
My throat dries up.
He advances toward me but stops just shy of arm’s length, which is probably for the best, because I’m internally freaking out.
“All right, Wheeler, question one. Are you ready?”
My stomach is fluttery, and I feel pinned in place by his eyes. “Do your worst.” (My false bravado is out of control.)
“During Would You Rather, you said you’d go back in time. Is that to avoid meeting me… or something else?” he asks. Direct and to the point.
I swallow my nerves. “I’d do it again without changing a thing.” Even if we’ll never get autumn walks past the brownstones in Lincoln Park, I can’t bring myself to regret a single minute of knowing King Theodore Geoffrey Edward George.
He edges closer and his eyes flutter closed for a split second.His shoulders relax a fraction. He’s moving in inches, as if worried about scaring me away. He should be. There’s a part of me that wants to run, but as always, there’s something about Theo and me that feels inevitable. We can fight it all we want, but the universe will run our airplane into the ground before it allows us to outrun each other.
“What’s your second question?” I ask.
He looks at me like he knows something I don’t. “Turns out I only needed one.”
“Are you serious?”
“All right, all right. Er. Oh, I’ve got one! Is it true that Americans eat peanut butterandjelly on the same sandwich?”
I bark out a laugh. “What kind of question is that? Yes, we eat PB and J sandwiches, and yes, they’re delicious.”
He grins. “Fascinating. Three—”
“You already asked three questions.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Your first one was when you asked if you could get in the water.”
He slants me a frustrated look. “That’s against the spirit of the game, Wheeler, and I have a real question this time.”
“Why do you call me ‘Wheeler’?” I blurt it without thinking and regret it immediately. I hadn’t planned on wasting one of my questions on this.
He narrows his eyes and slides an inch closer. “It just happened. It probably started as a doomed attempt to put some casual distance between us, but then I saw the way your eyes sparked when I said it. You looked half annoyed and half in love with me, and I guess I got addicted to that expression.”
“No one with an accent like yours should be allowed to be so charming. It’s not fair.” I never stood a chance.
His expression softens into one of amused delight. “I’ll take that under advisement. Question two?”
“Why did you write your real name on our marriage certificate?”
He exhales in relief. “I would have let you have as many questions as it took until you asked me that.”
