Page 34 of The One I Need
“Not just for the compliment. But for tonight. I know that I pushed you out of your comfort zone with the magic show. I’m sorry, but also, I’m so proud that you did that.”
“We exited the comfort zone when I agreed to go out with you,” she says with a laugh.
“Very true. And I want you to know that I’m honored you took a chance on me.”
“In my defense, you broke down my defenses with candy and flowers. And coffee.”
“Just part of my arsenal,” I tease as we come to a stop where the pathway intersects with Broadway. “And I meant what I said. I enjoy spending time with you. I know what you said, that you don’t date, and I respect that. I’m just glad I got to see you again. And I hope it’s not the last time. Because while you might say that I’m something, I think you’re everything.”
Fuck…why did I say all that? Why did I have to make this some sort of romantic hero monologue? Hell, I might as well just drop a “pick me, choose me, love me” line.
I said too much. I see her eyes growing wide. Similar to how she looked when I dropped the whole “will you marry me” question at the wedding.
“Everything, huh?”
No sense in covering my tracks now. “Yeah. I do.”
“Wow,” she says, taking a second before she continues. “I don’t think anyone has ever said that about me.”
“That sounds like a them problem.”
She laughs quietly, letting go of my arm. “Every part of me is saying that I should say no, because that’s what I normally do. But somehow I can’t. Is that weird? Do you always get women to say yes to you after a speech like that?”
I let out a laugh. “Not even a little bit. In fact, I’ve never got a yes after that kind of speech.”
She takes a step closer and leans up, giving me a kiss on the cheek. “Well, consider this your first yes.”
I once again hold back from doing a little dance in front of Izzy and the crowds of people in downtown Nashville.
“Next weekend?” I ask.
She nods. “Yes, but this time I get to make the plans. And I have a few more stipulations.”
“I expected nothing less.”
“Again, this won’t be a date.”
I shake my head. “Of course not.”
“And there will be no sex.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“This is just two friends, who enjoy spending time together, hanging out.”
And there it is. The word that I knew was probably going to be my fate. Funny, though, it doesn’t sting the way I thought it would. Or how it’s stung in the past when women have given me the “just friends” talk.
“I think that sounds like a great night.”
She gives me the double blink, almost as if she’s shocked that those words just came out of my mouth. “Really? You’re good with that?”
I nod. “Yes. I told you, and I wouldn’t lie—however I can have you in my life, I’m good with. I like spending time with you.”
She gives a small smile. “I like spending time with you, too.”
“Then I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship,” I say as I casually wrap my arm around her shoulders and pull her into a side hug. “Now, I’m going to need another sandwich. Let’s go back to the hot dog stand.”
She shakes her head. “You’re ridiculous.”
