Page 5 of Never Have I Ever

“You could fix that, you know.” My heart thumps so loudly he might not hear me.

He grins cautiously. “You think?”

“It’s worth a shot.” What am I saying? If he asks, will I go?

I’m swallowed in his arms as he kisses the top of my head. “What would you say if I did?”

“Yes.” Without a doubt in my head or heart.

He pulls me even closer, burying his face in my hair. “Poppy?” The charm of hearing him say my name is lost in the sound of regret.

I brace myself, my heart flip-flopping in my chest. “Yes?”

“I don’t want you on tour with me.”

Pushing away enough to see his face, I search his handsome features for any trace of what he’s not telling me. “What do you want, Laird?”

Squeezing his eyes closed, he opens them, and the blue strikes like lightning. “You. I’ve never met anyone like you, never felt like this before—”

“Like what?” Would it be so wrong to believe we can make something from nothing? That one night could lead to something more meaningful?

Oh God, did I just fall in love with this man?

“I don’t want to lose you.”

Resting my hand on his cheek, I lean forward to kiss him. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Until morning. Then we’re going to who knows where. I don’t know where you live. I don’t know where the tour is headed next. I just know I want to be with you wherever I end up.”

And there it is. His heart on display.

Too happy to waste time with words, I kiss him. But I’m too giddy to contain myself. “First, tattoos, and now this. Next, you’ll be hitting me with a marriage proposal.” I laugh, and then indulge in another kiss.

But his lips don’t move, the buzz I thought we were riding tempered. Did I misread him? “What’s wrong?”

“Would it be so far-fetched? People have done crazier things,” he says as if that makes this idea less ludicrous.

My jaw slacks, but then I ask, “Are you being for real right now? I know we’ve said a lot of things. We’ve been under the influence of beer and even each other in the past few hours, so if you misspoke or let that slip out—”

“I didn’t know how to say it before, but it’s how I feel.” The conviction in his tone has me believing he’s telling the truth. There’s no way. He can’t be.

“We just met.” I laugh, trying to pretend I’m in on the joke, but it sounds as fake as they come. He doesn’t even try to hide behind a lie. “You’re not joking, are you? Give me something, Laird. Some clarification. Repeat what you said. Are you feeling alright?” I reach out to check the temperature of his forehead.

His chest rattles with laughter, though the sound doesn’t escape him. He takes my hand between his, and the smile gives him away. “I don’t have a fever, babe. I’m not drunk. I’m not even tired. I just know what I want.”

“And that’s me?” Still staring at him, I ask, “For eternity?”

“If you believe in that kind of thing, then I do too.”

Dragging my other hand from his shoulder and down lower, I’m gentle when I place it over the new tattoo and smile when I feel his heart beating with the same conviction as his tone. Suddenly, the what-ifs infiltrate my thoughts . . .

What if he’s right?

What if we’re meant for more?

What if we’re supposed to be together?

What if we’re soulmates?

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