Page 87 of Endgame

“Angel, feeling defensive after such a great loss is perfectly normal. Please let me know if you need any assistance wiping your ego off the floor. I’ve got a cleaning crew on standby.”

Dakota is plowing into me with kicks and punches.

It’s incredible.

Her playfulness tonight has been such a good time, a clear indicator that we’ve both needed this—the fun and the time together.

Once we got to the Adrenaline Park, she immediately set her sights on the go-carts; she was adamant about crushing my manhood with a win.

I swear this beautiful woman reminded me of a teenage boy shit talking me the entire ride. Her feistiness is one of the things I love most about her; it only made me want to destroy her even more.

That's how we got here—a win in my pocket and a bruised ego for Dakota.

Her laughter rings out, allowing me to look at her.

She’s so beautiful I find myself struggling to breathe at times. It’s a strange feeling to be so swept away by the closeness of someone. I’ve always been able to feel it, but now I can take it.

I grab her hand instinctively and watch as her eyes draw to the motion.

Accept me, angel.

This is just the beginning.

Her head lifts, delighting me with a soft smile; I know this is her way of showing me she’s okay with these inevitable small steps between us.

Looking ahead, I spot one of my favorite hot dog shacks. I can’t play in Cleveland without hitting it up.

“You hungry? This shack has some of the best hotdogs in Cleveland. I’m failing you if we don’t eat here.” I’m starving and silently hoping she likes hot dogs and can get down with some messy grub.

“Ugh, yes. I’m starving. A hot dog sounds perfect.”

My kind of woman.

I’m the kind of guy who likes to see his woman eat. If we’re at the best burger joint in town and she picks the green salad, it’s an immediate red flag.

My worries seem to settle themselves because Dakota wastes no time ordering what she wants.That's my girl.

“I’ll take a cattle dog with extra bacon and onions, a side of ranch cheese fries with extra ranch, and a large Diet Coke.”

I’m undoubtedly staring at her like she orchestrated the damn planets. As if I couldn't be any more crazy about her, she knows what she wants and goes for it—just like that cattle dog I’m going to have the pleasure of watching her eat.

I move to stand beside her, gently placing my hand on the small of her back. She shivers at the touch.

I catch it but decide not to say anything.

I love the effect I have on her.

She stares at me patiently with a small smile, waiting for me to order. I lean forward to kiss her forehead gently, throwing her off guard and no doubt irritating the people in line behind us. But I can’t find it in me to care. I’m acting on feelings with Dakota, and right this second, I feel like doing that.

Once we’ve secured our food, I lead Dakota to a small bench off the side of the park. We’re surrounded by a butterfly garden with various colorful plants to the left of us, resembling a quaint oasis and a mini putt-putt course to the right. Children and families around us filter the air with laughter and excitement.

Despite the chaos around us, we sit in silence for what feels like hours, enjoying the quiet of each other's company.

I love that this feels comfortable. She’s someone who doesn’t require much, doesn’t expect much, and that feelsinvigorating.

We are the start of something much greater than me.

I understand what she meant when she claimed I was calming for her. I feel it too. The ease of her company feels sublime.

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