Page 53 of Shockproof

There’s no reluctance to reply. “Hm?”

“What’s the answer?”

I shift my stare to where the man I love is squatted down in the space in front of me.

“What did you wanna be when you grew up?”

“You,” a playful poke to the nose is presented,“wanted to be an astronaut.”

“I did.”

“And not because of E.T. like most kids but because ofMac and Me, which interestingly enough had plenty of rescue and recovery plot points that could easily add to the behavioral reasons you do rescue and recovery now.” My lips scrunch to one side of my face. “Er…Did. Will do again?”

“Angel Cake.”

Pressing my lips tightly together is mindlessly done.

“I now see I don’t have the answer to that because you don’t want me to.”

“That’s…a bit of an oversimplification.”

“Then unsimplify it.”

I clamp my mouth shut a second time.

“Why don’t you wanna tell me?” Pain struggles not to pump through his crystal gaze. “You worried that I won’t know what it is? ‘Cause I’m okay Googlin’ shit I gotta when I gotta. You know that.”

Light giggles bounce my shoulders.

“Was it an astrophysicist? Aliteralrocket scientist?”

The apprehension keeping me silent slowly starts to waver.

“Chemist? Mathematician? Cryptanalyst?”

“I love that you know what that is.”

“I know what that isbecauseI love you.” He lovingly lets his hands land on my legs. “So, what’s the answer?”

A long, still beat precedes my eventual answer, “A veterinarian.”

“Huh,” is grunted out in obvious bewilderment. “Really?”

“Animals were always nicer to me than people,” I quietly confess, doing my best to smile. “They didn’t make fun of me for always knowing the answer or reading really big books about pattern recognition or being able to see things that aren’t technically there.” Bouncing my shoulders appears right before a heavy sigh. “They were just…kind to me…so I wanted to do something to be kind to them.”

Without another word, Slater uses both of his hands to cup mine, knocking the markers back to the couch. Rather than pry for more information about those particular moments or other emotional scars, he lovingly brings my fingers to his lips. Plants a kiss on each set of knuckles. Lowers them back to my lap and strokes them while looking affectionally into my eyes for what feels like forever. Finally, in a volume just above a whisper he declares, “You can do anything you wanna do in this life or the next, and I’ll always be here to love and protect you through it. Understood, Angel Cake?”

It's my turn to coyishly nod. “Understood, Cowboy.”

Andthat,ladies and gents, is what makes me the real winner of the day.

Chapter 8

Slater

We’re gonna be late.

Iknowwe’re gonna be late.

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