Matt looks off to the side before returning his gaze to me. This time, when his eyes land on mine, there’s something different in their depths. He’s looking at me the way he did in Capri and Rome—when we snuck into pools. When we hung out in his room. When we spent a day and night together by the sea. I’m almost afraid to move, I don’t want anything to change, when he steadily goes on, “What she doesn’t get is that the reminders aren’t necessary. I still think about you all the time.”
I breathe in a shaky, shallow breath. I get the sense that something life changing is about to happen.
“I sent you messages over the past few months. When I never heard back, I figured you didn’t want to see me. That’s why I’m so surprised that you’re here now.”
I blink my eyes as I try to calm my overstimulated and overtired brain. Matt goes on, “You told me when we were swimming in Rome that I should slide into your DMs if I started to miss you. So...I slid.”
My disbelief starts to fade away and a tremor of giddiness takes its place. “Are you sure you weren’t just looking for a booty call?”
I choose not to tell him that I totally would have been up for it.
“No, I wasn’t looking for a booty call,” he says. “I just wanted to see you. I haven’t stopped missing you since the last time I saw you. I wanted it to go away at first, and it did for a while, but then I realized that I didn’t want to stop missing you. Even if it meant I stayed stuck in the past, I’d rather miss you than forget you.”
My chest might combust. My heart’s on fire. My teasing exterior disappears and I’m ready to say everything I’ve wanted to say for the past year.
“I’ve missed you, too,” I tell him. “I’ve really, really missed you. And it’s so confusing because I’ve also been happy. I’ve finally gotten to where I’ve wanted to be in my career. I have incredible friends and I have my family and I know myself now in a way I never did before. I’m living the life I always wanted to live, but I want you in that life with me. And I don’t know what’s going to happen. Maybe we’ve been carrying around an illusion of the two of us that won’t translate into our everyday lives, but I want to try. I want us to try together.”
I take the slightest step closer. Daring to hope that we can have this. “So I guess what I’m trying to ask you is, will you go on a date with me? An actual date as two people who want to give this a real chance?”
“A real chance at what?” Matt asks.
I try to rephrase what immediately comes to my mind, but then I decide against it. I don’t want to hold back anymore. I think we’ve both done enough waiting. “A chance at forever,” I tell him. It’s a bold statement, but it’s how I feel.
Matt breathes in at my words, and a lazy smile pulls at the corners of his mouth. “As a writer, I have to tell you that that was a seriously quotable line. Fair warning, I’m stealing it.”
“What do you mean you’re stealing it?” I ask through a smile of my own.
“I mean it’s going in my show. That was grade-A romantic dialogue and it’s being sent directly into the interplanetary second-chance romance that I’m setting up for next season.”
I step forward again. Or maybe he does. All I know is that we’re close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off his chest.
“Hold on,” I say firmly. “First, do you want to date me or not? And then more importantly, which second-chance romance are you talking about, because if you have Despina’s dead fiancé come back one more time from the great beyond, I’m willing to fight you here and now.”
“I can’t reveal any specific plot details, but to answer your first question, yes, I do want to date you. I’m pretty sure I’ve been trying to date you since the moment I met you.”
He just said that. This is happening. How did we get here and how can I make sure that we stay?
“That’s good to hear,” I tell him. “And in that case, even though the delivery is late, this is for you.”
I hold up the garment bag I’ve carried with me, and Matt cautiously takes it.
“You should know that I’ve been assured by my agent that I’m not obligated to participate in costumed events.”
“How unfortunate for the world,” I reply. “But thankfully, that’s not a costume. It’s just something I’ve been meaning to give you.”
Matt unzips the bag and looks inside, and realization gradually appears on his face.
“It’s the shirt I promised you,” I say as he pulls the piece out, holding it up in front of him. “And if you’re wondering about the pattern, it’s one of a kind. I printed it from a picture I took with the underwater camera you gave me in Capri.”
Matt glances over at me before holding it up against his frame. “I don’t mean to overcommit, but I think this might be one of my favorite shirts. Top five, at least.”
I feel remarkably proud by his reaction, even if he’s just being nice.
“In fact,” he goes on, “I’m going to wear it on our momentous first date. But before that happens, we should take the picture you waited in line for. You may not believe it, but your photo request was the only one I received today.”
I don’t believe it, as a matter of fact. How could anyone not want to take a picture with Matt? Pulling out my phone, I decide I won’t be missing out on my chance.
“In that case, we better make it a good one.”
