Page 108 of You Found Me
“Buttering me up won’t save you now,” I tell her as I reach for the bottle of caramel, aiming the tip at her head.
Her eyes widen. “Don’t you dare. I just washed my hair, and you know how much I hate having to do that.”
I think about it, letting my eyes roam over her, and that’s when I think how cute she’d look with a chocolate handprint over her chest. I lower the bottle back down and flick some cocoa powder at her. When she looks down, I dip my hand back into the batter.
“I’m not sure why I thought wearing a white tank was a good idea when I knew I was going to make brownies,” she says with a sigh. “Now it looks dingy.”
“Actually, I think it looks like it’s missing something,” I say as I get closer to her, trying to keep my voice even.
“Oh yeah? And what’s that?” she asks, finally looking back up in time to see my hand coming towards her.
“This,” I tell her, placing my hand on her left boob. Her gaze goes from my hand to my face in rapid succession, as if she’s not sure I really just did that.
After that, it’s a blur of powder, batter, and sauce flying everywhere. I make a move to get out of her line of fire but end up slipping on something sticky, causing me to take her down with me. Her laughter fills my ears, letting me know she’s okay and that’s when I finally let myself laugh.
We sit up, and I pull her into me, throwing an arm around her shoulder and the other holding her knee. I look around and note the cocoa powder, flour, brownie batter, and caramel sauce are all over the countertop, the floor, and us.
Emmy turns her head to look at me, and I brush strands of hair out of her face, and say, “You really didn’t want to share those brownies, huh?”
Emmaline throws her head back, the sound of her laughter so loud and free that I just sit there in awe of her. I can’t believe how lucky I am to call her mine.
And maybe that’s why when she finally calms down, I open my mouth intending to say one thing, but instead. . .
“I love you.”
The words tumble out of me.
“Wh–what did you just say?”
The panicked look on her face tells me that she knows exactly what I said. I could pretend I didn’t say it and actually said something else. Except that’s not what I want to do. I’m not going to lie to her or to myself.
“Emmy. My Buttercup. I said I love you,” her eyes widen even further, and she opens her mouth to interrupt. “Please, just listen. I’m not expecting you to say it back, or to even feel the same way I do. We’ve only officially been together for a few weeks but that doesn’t change a thing for me, I love you. It’s possible I loved you from the moment I met you.
“I felt something with you in that first hour that I’d never felt with someone else and I knew I felt it again seeing you in the diner. I stuffed those feelings down when I saw the engagement ring and even after you broke it off with him because . . . I didn’t want to be the guy that went after the heartbroken girl. I didn’t want people to think I was taking advantage.
“Except then he put his hands on you, and I watched you cry, sitting on that bed boldly asking me to be your fake boyfriend. And I knew as soon as the words left your lips that I’d do anything to not see you upset again. Maybe a better man would have been able to keep his feelings separate. But no matter how hard I tried, I found myself falling for you, desperately wishing it was all real. I’m willing to wait for as long as you need to love me back . . . or to decide if you can ever love me. It won’t change how I know I feel about you.”
She still looks surprised.
Shaking away my own doubts, I swipe a tear that’s fallen down her face. “Now, why don’t we get cleaned up and jump into the hot tub?”
“Actually, I have to tell you something.” I nod, urging her to continue. “I, um, hate hot tubs. Tubs in general, really. If you want to get in, I’ll sit next to it and talk to you. It’s just not my thing. Then you have to think about how often it getscleaned—or if it even does get cleaned. You just know people are doing dirty things in there, and I’d rather not sit in bubbling semen water.”
“Jesus christ, Emmy,” I say in choked laughter. “Okay, no hot tub for us—or for me like ever again. We can get cleaned up and maybe lay together in the hammock? Does that sound better?”
Her cheeks flush. “Sorry. I got carried away. That actually sounds really nice, I would really like to do that. Maybe while we’re out there I can talk to you about something?”
Curious, I nod. “We can talk about anything you want, anytime.”
Chapter 33
Emmaline
We’ve been snuggling in the hammock for the last half hour, my playlist softly filling the air from the speaker behind us.
“What is something you believe that you’ve never told anyone? Doesn’t have to be anything deep.” I break our comfortable silence.
“Hmm . . . the fact that I think octopuses are actually aliens.”
