Page 38 of The Love Losers

Rosie’s in my arms, and she’s looking up at me in a way that makes me believe a horse really can become a unicorn, and this building could be something more than a symbol of everything I’ve failed to become.

I believe because of her.

I dip her, and she laughs, her whole body shaking with it.

And I want to kiss her. I want it more than I can remember wanting anything. But if I do it, it might ruin this moment, and it’s a perfect moment—the kind that shouldn’t be touched or tarnished. So I pull her up from the dip, my dick aching and myheart straining to grow or break at her command. And in that moment it’s hard to care about any of it—about the New Year’s threat or my trust fund or even the job of walking in my father’s too-tight shoes.

All I want is to live in this moment.

And then the song ends, and I’m speechless, as if all the words inside of me have been dried up by the magnitude of what I’m feeling. Of what I want.

She’s still wrapped up in my arms, staring up at me, her expression surprised. Her pink lips part, showing me a flash of white teeth.

Probably because I’m gaping at her like a man who just experienced a miracle for the first time.

“That felt like a bucket list moment, didn’t it, Anthony?” she asks, her voice breathless.

She still hasn’t moved, and even though we’re both wearing our outdoors things, I can feel her warmth pulsing through me—a promise that won’t be kept. My hand flexes around her hip, wanting to draw her to me, held back only by the knowledge that she’s not mine and has spent the majority of the night encouraging me to marry another woman.

I clear my throat. “It did.”

“Yours did too, in a way,” she tells me, her eyes a bright gleam even in the dark, as if the light within her is so desperate to find a way out it’s seeping through. “I liked watching you take control at the bar. It was hot.”

A groan escapes me before I collect myself enough to say, “You implied I have no talent for bartending.”

“You don’t,” she says with a smile. “But you have a real talent for taking control of a situation.”

One of my hands lifts to trace her smile, her lips soft beneath my thumb, and a gasp escapes her as I cup her cheek. “You shouldn’t talk that way,” I say, leaning in slightly even thoughI’m not going to kiss her unless she signals the situation has changed. “Not if you want me to marry Leigh. Not if you plan on using those condoms in your bag with someone else.”

She watches me for a long moment, her pupils dilated, her lips still parted. I don’t think. I run my thumb over her soft bottom lip again because I need to feel it under my touch. She shakes her head slightly, hair brushing my arm, and all of my nerve endings roar to life. It’s like my body was slumbering with the rest of me, and she awakened it. “I took them to see how you’d react. It was stupid.”

“Thank God.” I have the pleasure of watching her smile for me, but the smile falls half a second later.

“I don’t know what I want, Anthony,” she says in a fervent whisper. “Or what would even be possible. I don’t want to ruin your life.”

“There’s not much to ruin.”

“Bullshit. Losing that trust fund would ruin your life. Or at least you’d think it did, which would be almost as bad.”

So marry me, I think.

It would probably be a disaster, but if I married Rosie, it wouldmeansomething. I would feel something when I said those words…

“Maybe that’s what this is about,” she continues, leaning in closer. “Our lists, I mean. Maybe we have to do them, both of us, to figure out what we want next.”

“Iwant to kiss you,” I admit, because we agreed to be honest with each other, and I’m sick of covering up everything I do and say with gilded wrapping paper and hidden meanings. This need I have won’t be contained so easily. So properly. “I know that much. I’ve been thinking about it all night. All week.”

A gasp escapes her, but she’s quick to collect herself. She doesn’t pull away, but I feel something inside of her changing. A resolve hardening.

“I’ve thought about it too,” she admits. “I think it should be on our list. The last on mine, and the last on yours. I think…when we do it, we’ll know if this thing—” she motions her hand between us as if she knows I’ll understand, and Ido. “If it means something.”

“So why not move it up the list?”

She surprises me by getting onto her toes and kissing my cheek, her lips leaving a mark on my soul. When she lowers back down, she gives me a sly smile. “Maybe I really want to ride a unicorn and paint with you.”

I’m more wounded by this than I want to show her. “I would do that for you anyway,” I say, moving my thumb over her soft cheek one final time before releasing her. “I’d do it for you even if it was the worst kiss of both of our lives, and we agreed we never wanted to see each other again for fear of reliving it.”

“You would, wouldn’t you?” she says, smiling up at me.

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