Page 132 of The Guy Who Fake Dated Me

“Thanks,” I grunted.

He grabbed my chair and set it down before dropping a kiss on my cheek and a s’more in my hand.

“I think you’ve got yourself a good one,” Teresa whispered.

I nodded, mostly because I was now chewing through sugary heaven.

“Oh my gosh, I see it!” Brooke squealed as she pointed at the sky. Sure enough, several streaks of green light fell from above, hovering to my right.

Logan pulled up a chair next to me and scooted close. “How was your s’more?”

“Ten out of ten,” I said with a smile.

He smiled back, then reached for my hand.

I looked at him as I took my glove off. “This is a sacrifice for me.”

“I’ll do my best to keep you warm.” Logan kissed my fingers, then pulled my hand into his jacket pocket. I could feel the rise and fall of his stomach as he breathed.

“There’s more!” Jessica waved.

A few streaks of green slowly turned into a waving curtain of light. The top of the towering phenomenon was almost white, until it faded to green, and then yellow at the tips.

The others jumped up to take pictures.

Logan leaned over and whispered in my ear. “Look straight up.”

I did so and let out a gasp. It was like looking through a tunnel lined with Hollywood special effects, only I was seeing a very real spectacle with my own eyes. It felt like I was staring at the beginning of something more beautiful than I could describe. A scribble of white and yellow turned and twisted, releasing the shards of light that lanced toward us.

“It’s beautiful,” I said softly.

“You’re beautiful,” Logan whispered in a husky voice.

I turned to him and found him staring at me. I grinned and pointed up. “You’re missing the show.”

“I’ve seen it before.”

“It’s pretty amazing.”

“I can’t take my eyes off of you.”

A blush heated my cheeks as he stared at me and not the exquisite display above. Logan pulled our hands from his jacket, and he began kissing my knuckles. One. By. One. His gaze never left mine.

I wanted to look up—this was a once in a lifetime experience—but I suddenly realized that if Logan asked me to marry him, and I moved here, that we could do this every night during the winter.

Logan moved to a new finger, his lips leaving imprints of magma on my skin.

My insides ached, and I yearned to grab Logan, kiss him until he couldn’t see straight, and then ask him to marry me.

Logan finished with my pinkie and then drew my hand to his chest. “Victoria, I know that I promised to wait until March to talk about our future, but I’m not sure I can.”

My heart thundered, and my blood tried to freeze and melt at the same time. Normally, I’d have a string of smart remarks for him, but not today. Not about this. I tugged his hand to my lips, and I kissed the spot where a wedding ring would sit.

His eyes went wide.

I smiled. “I’m not sure I can wait either.”

I stopped breathing when Logan slid out of his chair and onto one knee. His fingers started to shake, but his voice remained steady. “Victoria Cooper, I love you.” Now his voice hitched. “So much.”

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