“Are my words not registering with you, Asher?” I asked. “You seem to be speaking English—as am I, so…” My words trailed off as he set a stack of tiny handwritten cards I’d lost long ago on my plate.
The one on top read, “I wish he’d gone further with me that night…Just so I could know if it was all in my head…”
“Like I was saying,” he continued, “I liked you before that night. I actually liked you the first day we met—hot coffee assault aside.”
“It was hot tea.”
“It was anassault.” He angled closer. “Anyway…As much as you scowled at me and treated me like I was the scum of the earth for ruining certain moments, I still liked you.”
He didn’t wait for permission this time. His hand slid to my lower back and stayed there, steady and possessive, like he’d already decided I wasn’t going anywhere.
“And the reason I didn’t ask you out or ‘go further’ with you the times I could’ve is because you’re a long-term relationship type,” he said. “You wanted commitment, flowers, and grand gestures, and I couldn’t give you that.”
He paused as the violinists lightly strummed the final stanza, as the first round of applause filled the room.
“The first dance is almost over,” I said softly. “You should get to your seat.”
“You were also taken back then.” He ignored me, continuing. “Well, if I count being ‘off and on’ again as a real thing, and I don’t.”
He leaned closer, cupping my face in his hands.
“I’ve been trying to call and text you all weekend to tell you I’m sorry,” he said. “And to tell you that I don’t want to go back to running into you at weddings every couple of months.”
“I don’t see when else we’ll see each other.”
“Stop.” He pressed a finger against my lips. “Let me finish…”
My breath hitched as he trailed his thumb against my bottom lip.
“I don’t appreciate you leaving out the times we’ve talked on the phone late at night, or the times you’ve called me for help here and there in your notes,” he said. “But because I’mgenerous, I spent last night filling all those in, and I noticed a pattern.”
“The new Mr. and Mrs. Brooks, everyone!” The DJ announced from the stage. “Let’s all dance together now!”
“Come on,” he said, standing before I could argue. “We’re not having this conversation sitting down.”
“We’re absolutely not having it at all?—”
“Too late.” He pulled me to my feet anyway.
“Next to family, you’ve been the most consistent person in my life over the past few years, and I don’t want that to end,” he said. “Ever.”
The room fell away around us, and suddenly it was just him and me.
He pulled me against him, his hand settling at my lower back again, firmer this time.
“I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you,” he said. “Whatever it takes to make you stay.”
“And if I say I don’t want the same thing?”
“You’d be lying, but I’d let it slide for a few minutes since you have to make everything dramatic.”
“I build weddings,” I said. “You destroy them. That’s not exactly a cute compatibility issue.”
“I can’t be with someone who takes pride in trashing people’s love stories,” I said. “I know you have your reasons?—”
“Had,” he interrupted. “I had my reasons and I’ll explain what they were in long detail…But I’ve recently decided to make some significant changes to my business model.”
“Like what?”
