More dangerous.
Why now?
Why like that?
Why not before?
So I answer the real thing.
“Because the last time the lights came on, I let other people tell the story.” My thumb brushes once under her jaw. “That doesn’t happen again.”
There.
That’s the vow.
Not future tense.
Present.
Her eyes shine.
She laughs once, shaky and beautiful and wrecking.
“That was a lot.”
I smile.
“I know.”
“You called me one of the best athletes on campus.”
“You are.”
“You said you loved me badly.”
“I did.”
She exhales and tips her forehead into my chest again like my honesty is physically tiring.
Fair.
I hold her there and let the noise of the arena fade behind us.
Then she says, very softly, “You chose me in daylight.”
My heart does something near-fatal.
I tighten my arms around her.
“Yeah, baby.”
And because there is no point pretending I understand moderation anymore, I tip her face up in the fluorescent half-light of an arena corridor and kiss her.
Not hidden.
Not quick.
Not for anyone else.
