Page 87 of Mr. Charming

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, but he also doesn’t pull his hand from mine. “I meant everything I said. I’m not going into this as the same man I left our relationship as.”

“I know that. I do.” I crawl into his lap, straddling him, needing to be close to him. To know that I’m not saying no, I’m just saying slow. “You still trust me?”

“You’re still the person I trust the most.”

I put my hands on his cheeks and rest my forehead against his. “Then trust me that with time, we’ll be there again. You’re like a race car, pedal to the floor, tires screeching around the corners, and I just think this time around, we might need to take the Sunday drive approach. We’re going to reach the same destination, I’m sure of it, but it might take us longer than we’re used to.”

He swallows. “I’m gonna be honest. I’m not sure if I’m built for slow, but if I’m gonna try for anyone, it’s you.”

I smile, and his hands tighten on my hips. “Thank you.”

“I have to know, does this have anything to do with the tattoo thing? Because I can book an appointment right now. And this time I’ll get your full name right over my heart. Fuck it if Cory tells me I’m copying him.”

I shake my head. “It doesn’t have anything to do with the tattoo. You made up for that with what you said last night. It’s actually kind of romantic in a very twisted and weird way.”

“I lo?—”

I place my finger on his lips. “Please. Not yet.”

When I remove my finger and draw back, he looks into my eyes. “Me not saying the words doesn’t make it untrue.”

Both of our phones vibrate with a text, but we ignore them.

“All right, let’s go through the rules then,” he says.

I lean back on his lap and tilt my head. “We don’t need rules.”

He nods and holds his hands up. “I am not fucking this up this time, so you give me the rules you want to go by, and if we get to the point that I’m allowed to break them, you’ll let me know, okay?”

“God no, I’m not your teacher.”

“Tedi.” There’s no humor in his voice. He’s serious.

“No more sleeping together.” I cringe.

He stares at me blankly. And then he brings his hands back to my hips, picking me up and plopping me next to him. “Then you need to sit over there. And put on some underwear. Actually, go put on a snowsuit or something.” He waves his hand as though I should go do exactly that.

“You okay?”

He nods. “Continue.”

“No dinners yet. We can do coffee, walks, maybe a lunch.”

His mouth drops open. “We can’t eat dinner together?”

I shrug. “Okay, no romantic dates. Like, I’m not wearing a dress, we’re not making reservations, and you can’t get me flowers.”

He crosses his arms. “I don’t think you can mandate no flowers.”

“Fine. You can get me flowers. But I can’t promise I’m going to water them.”

“That’s just being a shitty human being. If I got you a dog, would you not feed the dog?”

“Don’t get me a dog, Tweetie,” I deadpan because I know this man.

“You’re really making this whole wooing process difficult. It’s supposed to be enjoyable and make you want to date me.”

Our phones vibrate again.

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