Page 86 of When Alec Met Evie
The first night he kissed me, Alec told me that nothing about our relationship has ever felt normal. It’s only been a week since then, but it still feels true. We haven’t even been on an actual date, but we’re seeing each other as frequently as possible, getting to know each other through snatches of time and stolen moments. Kisses while we watch a movie at my place after Juno goes to bed. Late night text conversations when I can’t sleep and he’s on the road, traveling to or from a game. But it still feels like we’re progressing, learning about what we like and don’t like, growing more comfortable, more familiar with each other.
“So, I have a question for you,” Alec says.
“Okay.”
His tongue darts out to lick his lips, my gaze tracing the movement before I force my eyes back to his. “I know it’s kinda fast, but wehaveknown each other a really long time. And I just think…I would really like to call you my girlfriend.” A hint of vulnerability passes over his expression. “Is that okay with you?”
I can’t keep a cheesy grin from breaking out across my face. “I think that’s a wonderful idea.”
He leans down and presses a quick kiss to my lips. “Really?”
“Really.”
“Okay. It’s official, then.” He grins, looking boyish and totally adorable. “Are you going to tell Megan, or should I?”
I reach up and pat him on the chest. “Honey, I’ve talked to your sister every night this week.”
He nods. “So you’re saying she knows?”
“She knows.”
“But she doesn’t know it’s official,” he says. “Let me be the one to tell her that.” He pulls out his phone. “Here. Come here.” He hooks a hand around my neck and tugs me up for one more kiss, using his free hand to take a selfie. The results are a little shadowy, since we’re standing in a mostly dark corridor, but it’s clear enough to see that it’s me and Alec, and we’re definitely kissing.
He sends the photo to his sister, reading out loud as he types, “Meet my girlfriend…”
“Cute. I love it.”
“There. Sent,” he says, pocketing his phone, but it’s already buzzing with what I’m sure is Megan’s response. He pulls it back out and looks at the screen, then smiles and holds it up for me.
Megan’s message has no words, just a long row of heart eyes and celebration emojis.
“All right,” Alec says, reaching for my hand. “Let’s go get Juno.”
Ruth is sitting right where she said she’d be, but she’s no longer holding Juno. When she sees us coming, she points across the concourse. “The tall one has her,” she says.
We look to see Nathan standing near the opposite wall, Juno fast asleep in his arms.
“He looks like a pro,” Alec says, admiration in his tone.
“Want me to take her back?” I ask Nathan as soon as we approach, and the grumpy glare he gives me is answer enough. I raise my hands in an exaggerated gesture. “Fine!You can keep her.”
He does keep her, and it’s a good thing because now I need to pee. I squeeze my boyfriend’s hand—boyfriend!—and tell him I’ll be right back, then I dart off to the bathroom.
I check my own phone on my way back, sure that Megan texted me too, and find a message just as enthusiastic as the one she sent Alec. All the heart eyes. All the fireworks. Followed by one more message with actual words.
Megan
I have never been so happy for either of you. Truly. Best news ever.
When I find Alec and Nathan exactly where I left them, Juno still sleeping peacefully, I cross the concourse and sit down next to Ruth. We chat about her kids and their plans to visit for the holidays and joke about trash pick-up on our street and how hard it is to predict when the truck will actually come through.
I don’t take Juno back until it’s time for the costume parade, when Alec and Nathan both have to head down to the ice to help supervise.
I sit inside the arena with Summer and Parker and watch as the athletes carefully shepherd skaters of all skill levels around the ice. Princesses and hockey players parade through the arena, along with astronauts and ghosts and fifty other costumes I can’t identify—and twenty-two well-muscled firefighters.
Honestly, the addition of their hockey skates only sharpens the appeal.
The stands are by no means full, but scattered groups of parents and onlookers sit all over. Behind us, a group of dads are talking loudly enough that when they mention Alec’s name, I immediately perk up.
