Page 97 of Feast

He just sighed. “Why do you always try to make it weird?”

“You’re the one who just announced to our parents that we’ve been sleeping together,” she pointed out.

“I said ‘seeing’,” he protested. “They don’t know for sure we’ve had sex.”

“My dad caught me in a hay loft with Matty Dixon when I was sixteen. I was naked, and the only thing Matty was wearing was my underwear. Trust me, Dad knows we had sex, and your mom is nobody’s fool.”

“Okay, so they know.” He sighed. “I guess my timing could’ve been better.”

“I liked your timing.”

Hope flickered. “Yeah?”

“Right before you got a lap full of partially digested mashed potatoes and green beans? As romantic gestures go, it’s pretty up there.”

He grimaced. “Don’t say partially digested.”

“My only question is why?”

“Why, what?”

“Why did you tell them? Just a few days ago you thought it was a horrible idea.”

“I know.” He wanted to take her hand, but he didn’t know if she’d let him.

“So what changed your mind?”

“Esme.”

She blinked. “Okay, I was not expecting that. What does Esme have to do with this?”

“She kind of read me the riot act,” he admitted.

“About?”

“Feeling responsible for my mom’s happiness, worrying what would happen if you and I didn’t work out.”

“You’ve been worried about that?”

He nodded. “Probably something I should’ve talked about with you instead of Esme.”

“Probably.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t.”

“I’m sorry, too. I should’ve told you how I was feeling.”

He took her hand now, the knots in his belly unraveling a little more when she let him. “Why didn’t you?”

“I was scared,” she admitted. “What if you didn’t feel the same?”

“I get that.” Her hand was warm and soft in his. “Why don’t I tell you how I feel now?”

“Okay,” she said, but her throat bobbed when she swallowed, and he saw the flicker of anxiety in her eyes.

“I love you, Maddie.”

Her eyes widened, stunned surprise turning to stunned joy. “You do?”

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