I close my eyes and release a calming breath.
“Yeah, I came with Zeke,” I continue. “As a friend. But I don’t know if I can say the same about you. You’re here with another girl, Declan; you have no right to be upset.”
“You’re right,” he mumbles. “I should’ve told you I was coming to this, and I should’ve told you I was bringing Mollie.”
He pinches his nose as he takes a step towards me.
“No, fuck that. I should’ve askedyou. Even if you didn’t want to or were worried about what your brother would say, I should’ve asked.
“Okay,” I say.
“Okay.”
“I’ll see you on Monday.”
“You’re leaving?” he questions; his hand grazes my bicep, stopping me before I reach the door.
“Brinley made me come, and I honestly think Zeke and I both have places we’d rather be.”
“I don’t want you to leave like this,” he pleads. “I don’t want you to walk out that door and think that this is—”
“Over.”
“Ember, we should’ve talked about all this sooner. I’ve known for weeks where I stand with you. Honestly, I think I’ve known since the second we got paired up where I stood with you.”
This can’t be good. I was horrible to him when we first got paired up.
“Maybe there was some kind of miscommunication here, but I thought we were already on the same page.”
“Which is what?” I wonder, hoping it gets him to finish his thought sooner. He invades my space, pulling my arms apart so he can grab my hands.
“I want to be with you.” He grins. “Even if that means hiding away at my place, driving hours away for dates, or dancing with you in supply closets during banquets.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“You mean you’re okay waiting in every aspect of our relationship until I’m ready?”
I want to tell Cam, but I don’t know if it’s something he’ll be able to understand.
“I don’t care if we have to wait years to tell the world,” he says. “As long as the world eventually knows you’re mine. That I somehow got lucky enough to be with you.”
“Hmm, that does sound pretty nice.” I grip his suit jacket and pull him to me, eliminating the space.
“So, we’re an us now, Bowman? Officially?”
“If you’re okay with that.” I glance up at him.
“I’m more than okay with it.”
He rests his forehead against mine before meeting my lips in a soft and sweet kiss.
“You know I referred to you as my girlfriend over Thanksgiving.” His voice is a whisper, but it catches my attention.
“What?”
“My dad was being an ass and trying to get me to be someone I’m not, and he thought I shouldn’t settle for someone,” he rambles. “And I called you my girlfriend.”
