Page 103 of Everything's Coming Up Rosie

“I realized I might not have been clear in my intentions.”

I’m standing in the doorway of my cottage, at the end of my Sunday with Arthur and the lights, and Booker is back on my porch.

With a pizza.

And those eyes.

“Oh?” I try to tell myself to stay strong, arm’s length, aloof, but I feel my resolve crumble the second I see him standing outside. I’m like a giddy teenager the second I step onto the porch.

And when he says, “I want to date you,” all bets are off.

Never mind the way it sends my pulse racing, the way I could easily lose all sense of reason. It’s like the part of me that cares about that decided it needed a nap.

“You want to date me,” I repeat, looking down at the pizza box, then back at him. I have to keep this light or else I’m going to get lost. “And feed me more pizza?”

“Yes.” He smirks. “You seem to really like pizza.”

“I’m leav—”

“Leaving at the end of the summer,” he cuts in. “I know, I know. But I like you, Rosie.” He takes a step closer. “I’ll take whatever time I can get.”

It’s not late enough for it to be dark outside, but I almost wish it were. I’m certain my face is showing every single emotion I’m trying not to have. I assumed that the night at the bar was just aglitch because this whole past week we’d hung out and talked and had our second Friday questions—and it really seemed like he’d backed off of the whole idea.

“I was kind of waiting for your cue, but you’re hard to read,” he says.

“I know,” I say, because I could’ve easily been straight with him.

“I think there’s something here,” he says. “I had fun with you. It’s nice. We can keep it casual.”

“I don’t really do casual,” I say.

“Neither do I.” He leans against the doorjamb and smiles down at me.

“Then why would we start dating?” I ask lightly.

“Because we’re trying new things this summer?” He smiles—acasualsmile—and I don’t know why I’m bothering to pretend. I’m going to give in. I’m going to agree to dating him against all logic, and that should concern me more than it does.

Because I have a feeling I won’t be able to say no to this man. Because I had fun with him too. And also because I like him. I like that he feels safe. That he knows a few things about me that nobody else knows—and he doesn’t seem to mind that I’m full of flaws.

I like that I actually want to tell him all of my secrets, even though wanting it terrifies me.

And I really like that he’s a grown-up. No games. He just says what he feels. That’s hard to find.

I shake my head. “This is a really bad idea.”

His smile is slightly wicked. “My favorite kind.”

He takes a step toward me, and I draw in a slow, deep breath. It’s been a while since I kissed anyone, and honestly? The only thing I’m thinking about is trying to remember how to do it. Is it like riding a bike? Will muscle memory kick in? What if I’m way out of my league and Booker is somuch better at this than I am?

What if—but my inner monologue is silenced by his lips on mine, dashing away all my fears.

Heisgood at this, and while I want to hold up my end of the kissing bargain, I also want to close my eyes and let myself get swept away for once, even though it doesn’t make sense.

He drops the pizza box onto the porch and pulls me closer, hands at my waist as I wrap my arms around his neck. His lips are soft but firm and fully attentive to me. I lean in, our bodies pressed close, savoring each sweet movement as his mouth sweeps over mine. There’s a fluttering inside my rib cage, like the release of a thousand happy butterflies. It’s a rush of excitement and nerves and an endless desire that awakens something inside me. Something I’m not sure I’ve ever allowed myself to feel.

It’s a heady, intoxicating kind of kiss. So intoxicating, in fact, that when he pulls away and searches my eyes, I go up on my tiptoes for more.

A wave of worry washes over me. I could fall for him. The thought scares me, and yet, that fear is exactly what makes this so exciting.

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