Page 31 of Love By the Book
She nudges me again. “Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you never got into trouble as a kid.”
“Me? I was a perfect angel,” I deadpan. “Just don’t ask Piper about it.”
“I’m desperate to meet her now.”
As our laughter fades, I become acutely aware of how close we are. In the starlight, Rhianna’s eyes seem to hold galaxies of their own. The air between us crackles like a storm is brewing but the skies are perfectly clear.
A light streaks the sky, breaking the moment. Rhianna gasps and points. “It’s starting!”
Another gleaming streak of light soars across the heavens, and I release a breath. “Meteors?”
“Yes,” she whispers, her face lifted toward the heavens, her skin bathed in moonlight. When another meteor bursts acrossthe darkness she reaches for my hand. I embrace her smooth fingers, my pulse racing at the touch.
Over the next fifteen minutes, more follow, painting bright arcs across the dark. But I find my gaze drawn more and more to Rhianna. The wonder on her face, the pure joy in her eyes—it’s more breathtaking than any celestial display.
“Eli,” she whispers, turning to me as a grin slides up her face. “Have you ever seen anything like this before?”
I look at her—really look at her—illuminated by starlight, eyes shining, a strand of sky-dark hair falling across her cheek. Staring for a moment too long at her mouth, I wonder how she'd taste if I closed the distance between us—if she'd lean in, if she'd let me. My pulse quickens at the thought. But even if she wouldn't, I'd still choose to be here watching joy spread over her face as stars streak the skies above us. Suddenly I know with absolute certainty that I’ve fallen for her. It’s not a maybe anymore. It’s a definite, irrefutable fact.
“No,” I whisper back, my eyes never leaving her face. “I haven’t.”
Something in my tone must give me away because her smile falters, replaced by a look of… anticipation? Fear? Hope? I’m not sure.
Slowly, giving her every chance to pull away, I lean in. Her eyes flutter closed as our lips meet. The world falls away. Maybe a thousand more lights rush above us, but I see none of them. There’s only Rhianna—the softness of her mouth, the warmth of her hand in mine, the faint scent of her perfume, and the taste of cherry ChapStick.
When we finally part, we’re both a little breathless. Rhianna’s eyes open slowly and her brows pull together. “Eli,” she whispers, “what are we doing?”
I take a deep breath, my heart pounding. The words I want to say—about how watching her tonight made me realize I’m already rethinking my plans—stick in my throat.I've seen her hesitation, heard her jokes about avoiding serious relationships, and watched her careful dance away from commitment. And maybe I'm careening toward heartbreak, but I'd take it if it means even another day with Rhianna Wilder. So, I offer what I hope she can accept. “We don’t have to define it,” I whisper, my voice barely carrying over the rustling leaves. “No pressure, no expectations. What if we just… explore whatever this is? Like another adventure?”
There’s a pause of time where the wind howls and an owl hoots. I’m terrified Rhianna is going to say no. Terrified that even this carefully casual suggestion will send her running.
The thought of her rejection makes my chest ache. Three weeks of late nights planning this tour, of shared meals and stolen glances, of watching her step into rooms and gather everyone’s attention—it’s changed something in me.
I’ve never been the type for casual relationships. The Type A in me wants everything catalogued, organized, defined. But for Rhianna… for the chance to be with her, even temporarily, I’d rewrite every rule I’ve ever lived by. Maybe it’s foolish to hope that ‘exploring things’ could grow into something more, but after tonight—after seeing how she brings magic into everything she touches—I can’t help but hope.
“I’m not a serious-relationship person, Eli.” Her voice is quiet but firm. “I like you too much to lead you along and make you believe this could go somewhere. And you don’t exactly strike me as the casual type.”
I nod, heart still pounding, but keep my tone light. “I’m not usually.” A beat passes and I chuckle. “But I’m trying new things, remember?”
She hesitates, and I can see the war waging behind her eyes—the fear of hurting me or perhaps of getting too close. And maybe I’m a fool, but I’d risk it all for Rhianna. Even just for a few more weeks of holding her hands and listening to herdreams. My heart is already hers. Risking it feels inevitable. Almost easy.
So I lean in, just enough that my whispered words barely rise above the hush of the breeze. “If you’re even considering this, just know—if or when you’re ready to call it quits, I’ll respect it. No guilt. No pressure. You say you’re done, then we’re done.” I give her a small smile. “Until then… maybe we just explore this. See where it goes? Just for now?”
There’s another long pause. Rhianna doesn’t look away, but something shifts in her expression. Her lips pinch, just slightly. Her eyes flicker, like she’s replaying every reason she’s told herself this is a bad idea. Like she’s weighing the risk, counting the cost.
I want to tell her it’s okay. That she doesn’t owe me anything. But I can’t make myself say it because if she turns me down right now, I think it might break something in me.
My stomach churns, every second stretching out like it’s trying to teach me patience. Or humility. Or the precursor work for heartbreak.
This is so miserable it could almost count as bold move number three. If only it didn’t also feel so terrifyingly natural.
Then slowly, Rhianna’s lips curve into a smile. “You know what, I’d like that.”
Relief floods through me, so sharp and sudden it almost makes me feel dizzy. She said yes. Not to forever, not to something defined. But to this. To me. Hope unfurls in my chest like a lit match, fragile and flickering but real.
This time, she’s the one who leans in, her soft hands grazing down my jaw then sliding down my neck. Her mouth is warm and sweet and I’m pretty sure the entire purpose of my three bold choices was this moment, this woman.
When we finally break apart, we’re both grinning like fools. Her hair is wild in the wind, dancing with the stars. I reach over as I’ve longed to do a hundred times and tuckstrands back. She smiles up at me, glitter still clinging to her cheeks from her ghost makeup, and it nearly undoes me. I know what we agreed to. This isn’t forever. I made that clear. The moment it stops feeling right, she’ll walk, and I’ll honor what I said. No pressure. No expectations.
