“Well, that settles it. I’m quitting journalism so we can take this act on the road,” Lizzy said, tossing her red hair over one shoulder.
Will hummed to himself, a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Right. So that job that’s waiting for you at theTimes…”
Lizzy shrugged as she let out a deep sigh. “I’m sorry, but the public demands it.”
Will stopped trying to school his expression then and tugged her forward to kiss her.
Freddie turned to look down at Anne. She had her chin resting on his chest, gazing out across the room with a look of contentment that made Freddie’s chest constrict again. From joy, yes, but also an odd anxiety that sometimes needled his heart at moments like this. A reminder that this could have all ended so differently. The series of events that brought them back together could have just as easily kept them apart. The what-ifs were almost overwhelming. And suddenly, the idea of waiting any longer felt ridiculous.
He leaned down, his lips close to her ear. “Take a walk with me?”
She turned to look up at him, her eyebrows pinched together. “Why?”
“I have to ask you something,” he murmured.
She smiled but didn’t object, just turned back to the two other couples. “We’re heading outside for a sec.”
This was enough to pull Emma’s lips away from George and give a disapproving look to Freddie. “It’s cold out.”
He glared back. “We have coats.”
“Whoever told you that incivility was the essence of love never made their date stand outside in below-zero temperatures, Frederick,” Lizzy said, working hard to make her voice sound deep and stern.
Emma let out a drunken snort. “You called him Frederick.”
Then they both laughed.
Freddie sighed. “We’ll be right back.”
He took Anne’s hand and led them through the crowd to the front door, then out onto the sidewalk. He kept a firm grip on her hand as they continued down Avenue A, around the corner to a quieter section of Thirteenth Street. The sound of the city faded a bit as he leaned them up against the brick facade of the building.
“Hey,” he said, leaning down, his face just inches from hers.
“Hey,” she whispered back.
“Do you know how much I love you?” he murmured.
Her smile broadened. “Is that what you wanted to ask me?”
“No. I’ll get to that. But first, I have a confession,” he said.
“What’s that?” she asked, staring up at him, her lips still quirked in a smile, and he had to stop himself from leaning down to kiss her.
“You know those notes I’ve been writing to you for a while?” he asked.
Her eyes narrowed slightly. “I’m familiar.”
“Well, there’s one that I never got around to giving you.”
She paused. “What do you mean?”
His heart tripped as he pulled her closer. “Remember the night we first met? You were sitting alone at the Half Pint, reading a book at the bar. I was there with friends, but I couldn’t take my eyes off you. I spent over an hour getting up the courage to go over and ask you what you were reading.”
“And when I told you it wasA History of Pi, you spent ten minutes talking about whether cheesecake is a cake or a pie.”
He chuckled. “I thought you were just really into baking.”
She let out a soft laugh, too. “You were very charming when I corrected you.”
