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“You liked that I was supposedly steering the wrong way?”
He picks up a blueberry and pops it into my mouth. I try to latch onto his finger and suck it, but he gives me a look of gentle reproof.
“Yes. It was wrong but adorable.”
“You did a terrible job communicating that you found me adorable.”
He lifts one shoulder. “I’m not great with people. With new people.” He turns and scoops out some warm chocolate sauce with a spoon.
“But…you liked me?” He slips the spoon into my mouth when I open it, and the chocolate is rich and decadent. The more Sigurd feeds me, the more I wish he was eating it off me with his tongue and those gorgeous lips.
“Honestly,” he says, looking down shyly, “I liked the look of you when I peeped your I.D.”
“You went through my wallet?” I say, feeding him a dab of hot fudge with my finger. I’m not particularly upset about this fact. I would, too, if I thought someone was squatting on my property.
“Yeah. I had a feeling about you right away. I wasted time before acting on my feelings.”
He takes my fingertip into his mouth and sucks off the sauce, the swirl of his tongue making me shiver.
“You call the last two days…slow to act?”
Sigurd’s brows knit together while I pull my finger out of his mouth, letting him know with my eyes I want him to kiss me.
“I love you, Stasi.”
I suck in a breath.
“That’s what I should have said when I said I loved watching you come.”
My feet are glued to the spot, which is fortunate because my knees may melt, and I might pass out.
This is going super fast, and I’m not ready.
“You…love me?”
He gives me a stern look. “I live by instincts. And with you, I just know.”
I shake my head and watch his throat bob.
“I have no frame of reference for this,” I say. “No one has ever said that to me.”
His big mitt reaches up for my face, and I itch for it to cup the back of my head and kiss me because I don’t have words. But instead, he gently tucks a lock of hair behind my ear.
“I’ve never been in love before either,” he says.
He’s not getting it.
“Listen to what I’m saying. No one has ever said they love me, period. Not a boyfriend, not a friend, not a foster parent. No one in the group home, certainly. Absolutely no one but you.”
He watches me closely for several beats.
“You deserve so much better, my girl.”
Can we go back to eating snacks off each other because that was fun. That was easy. It feels…like my building blocks are falling, and I have to put them back up.
But maybe, just maybe, I don’t want to put them back up.
Maybe some part of me does want to stand here with chocolate on my boobs and my heart a quivering mess. Maybe I want to let this man love me. Love all of me—the me with no makeup and a sunburn.
