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Palming his cheeks, I stare deep into his chocolate-brown eyes. “I love you, Dane Greathouse.”
Our mouths dance, creating a symphony of emotions. Relief, excitement, euphoria, and those beautiful butterflies that flutter in my stomach when he’s in close proximity. Dane is my ending and has always been my beginning.
“We’re on the same page.”
“We’re on the same fucking sentence. We love each other, and nothing can break a love like ours. We were put in each other’s life for a reason. Sixteen years, Lettie. No woman could ever compare to you.”
We exchange I love yous three more times and right when I expect to rip his clothes off, he says, “Well, I’m glad that went as planned.” He pulls the silver dome from the platter. “If you were any later, it would have melted.”
It’s two scoops of ice cream, chocolate and vanilla, with caramel sauce and two cherries on top of a chocolate chip cookie and smothered in whipped cream. He picks up a spoon and wiggles it until he scoops a bite of vanilla for me.”
The moan that comes from my mouth surprises me. “If it’s that good, I’ll have some too. I’ve always told you vanilla is the supreme flavor.”
“No way, Greathouse. You have to eat chocolate if I have to eat vanilla.”
“You just fucking moaned over vanilla,” I protest.
I lift my brows and smirk. “I was faking it.”
“I’ve heard your moans, and that one was as real as when I ate you for an appetizer.”
“Stop it. Never thought you would be a dirty talker.”
Laughing aloud, he says, “And I never thought you would cry out, ‘Pull my hair, harder.’”
“I can’t believe I love you,” I say, half-embarrassed. It’s one thing in the heat of the moment but saying it after… it’s just wrong.
Our laughs come just as easily as they did at the fourth-grade talent show when we sang a song from the movie Grease, “You’re the one that I want.”
We couldn’t get through the lyrics. His hair was gelled, and I had big hair, teased in all directions and did I mention leather? Dane in leather was over the top. It was too much to look at, and all I could do was giggle once the song started.
Mrs. Sparks said we could choose another song that was more appropriate. We pulled up the music to Toby Keith’s version of Mockingbird. So, there we were, singing a country song, looking like John Travolta and Olivia Newton John. At the end, we received a standing ovation from the teachers. But only a few students knew of the song, so needless to say, we lost due to the fake applause meter. But in fifth grade, we nailed the talent show with a Luke Bryan song and won it all.
After the ice cream is gone, Dane lifts the other dome. It’s filled with roasted veggies, grilled chicken, and tortillas.
“If I eat all of this, there won’t be sex later.” I quirk an eyebrow.
“No sex tonight. I’m feeding the inside of your body and nurturing your mind tonight. Tomorrow, I’m going to worship every muscle, every small curvature if you’ll let me.”
I nod, knowing this will take an epic amount of restraint to keep from jumping his bones. “You don’t get to make all of the rules, Dane the Great. I’m adjusting the rules to include: we can kiss as much as we want.”
“That’s not a good idea.”
“All of my ideas are good,” I shoot back.
“Yeah, when you decided we should all do a beer bong freshman year, and we both threw up the expensive steak dinner with my parents.”
I squirm off his lap. “That was one bad idea.”
His laugh is soft, and the way he’s looking at me makes me think that he even loves all the bad things I’ve done. Most of the time, I make him do things he doesn’t want. He’s a rule follower if he’s making the rules. He’s a leader. And he’s mine. My insides do the happy dance as we make our little street tacos.
“Are we going to watch a movie?”
“No, I thought we would make some mad libs.”
I have to do the first night of team game night, so I thought we would make up a mad lib.
“Yeah, that will be fun. Let’s make the topic Game Day Superstitions,” I suggest.
