Page 39 of That Right Moment

I blinked and stopped staring, clenching my teeth to stop the embarrassing smile forming.

“Aww, you’re blushing.” Milo stopped, allowing me to take the two extra steps to come close to him. He wrapped his arm around my waist, our bodies touching. “Don’t hide the smiles when I compliment you. I like all those smiles.”

I narrowed my eyes at him and took one step back, his arm releasing me. If only he knew the blush wasn’t from the compliment.

“Whales, huh?” I asked, letting go of his hand and walking back toward the coast, taking any measure to hide my flushed cheeks. “Are they here year-round?”

“Pretty much.” Milo kept his stride with me, grabbing my hand again, making sure I didn’t get too close to the edge of the cliff.

He stopped me once we got to the cliff, and his hand went from my hand to around my waist again, pulling me into him. His warmth hit me like a wave, crashing up against my side, hiding me from the wind that rushed past. In the background, the soft and gentle music made the scenery more romantic than anything I had experienced before, even when I felt like life couldn’t get any better when Kent and I started to date. When those new dating jitters flooded my mind and all I could think about was them. But with Milo, those feelings were different.

This didn't just feel like dating jitters. This felt natural. This felt right. This felt…like it was how it should have been all along.

I concentrated on his hand on my waist, the heat it created and the soft pressure from his fingertips. He had once told me he played trumpet in high school, and every now and then, his fingertips would twitch as if he were playing. I took a deep breath and looked up at him. His dark eyes looking out to the ocean and his blonde hair messier than I had ever seen thanks to the wind. He was handsome, he was gorgeous…he was…breathtaking.

How had I never seen this before?

“Oh, look…there.” Milo’s finger pointed out toward the sea, directing my focus toward the back ridge. I saw a black form on the surface, a jolt of water bursting through.

I gasped as two more black whales followed, each one coming up to the surface higher than the last, the water from their spout shooting up and creating the loudwhoosh.

“Wow…” I said breathlessly.

More whales followed as the pressure on my side got deeper, even though his hands hadn’t moved since it settled on my waist. All time seemed to stop as we leaned into one another, watching the whales breach the surface. Milo’s free hand found mine, and he turned into me more, allowing me to rest my head on his chest. We didn’t speak. We didn’t try to tease innocent kisses. We just stood together, motionless as our breathing began to sync.

The music in the background stopped, and a man made an announcement that the bride and groom were about to have their first dance. Had we really been standing here that long?

My eyes widened when I heard an instrumental version of Thomas Rhett’sUs, Somedaybeginning to play. This song was currently my go-to, the one that made me feel all the feels. The one that made me cry when I heard it.

“Isn’t this your song?” Milo asked, breaking our silence.

I gave him a light chuckle, lifting my head from him and nodding. “I adore this song.”

He moved, ever so smoothly, wrapping both arms around my waist, pulling me toward him. I reached my hands over his shoulders and gently placed them on the back of his neck. Our bodies began to move in sync as we sweetly began to dance to the music playing for the bride and groom. I knew it wasn’t, but it felt like it was all for us. The chill from the air vanished as I settled in his arms, and the wind danced with us, pulling us along as we swayed from side to side.

My hand rested on the nape of his neck, his blonde hair tickling my fingers. His eyes were intense on me, and softly, he began to hum. He raised his chin ever so slightly, his eyes now focused on my lips forming the grin he seemed to enjoy. Milo’s humming turned into a whispering of the lyrics.

He knew the words. I didn’t know he knew the words. Once again, my heart fluttered, possibly even skipping a beat.

My jaw dropped, and I smiled. “You know the words,” I whispered. “I didn’t know you listened.” I ran my fingers through his hair.

“You play it all the time, of course I listen,” he muttered back. “If I recall correctly,”—one of his hands from my waist moved and reached up, grabbing my hand that was playing with his hair—“it was playing when I was at the dentist last.”

I chuckled at him. “I don't remember what was playing, so I’m shocked you do.”

He laughed, and his bright smile overtook me again. “I just remember thinking you must have put it on the playlist.” He brought my hand to his chin, lowering his head to kiss my fingers. “You were humming it, most likely absentmindedly, but you were definitely humming it.”

I pursed my lips, looking down at our feet that still dance. I never knew he noticed those little things I did. I hummed while I cleaned teeth, I sang and danced while I made dinner, I would giggle and “aww” while reading. Did he notice those things too?

“Hey.” He lifted my chin with his forefinger and thumb, allowing my hand to fall on his shoulder again. “Don’t overthink things here. This is how we should be.”

I met his gaze, tempted to kiss him again. Not just a quick “oops” kiss, but a real kiss, a deep, intimate kiss, one that I would never want to end. One that would send a connection through us, linking us together.

But instead, I sighed and rested my forehead on his chest again. I wasn’t ready to admit it yet, but I agreed. This was how Milo and I should have always been.

We drove back to Portland, our fingers intertwined as he carefully drove his truck. The sun had started to set, twilight hitting the skies and buildings as we entered the city. I replayed the day in my head over and over, finding the little ways he made it different from the two of us hanging out like we had done for twelve years.

The bookstore, the waffle truck, the ice cream and whales. The dance. The small kisses. To a stranger or even to Ophelia or Jamie, it may seem simple and mundane, but this was by far the most romantic date I had ever been on, and the closer we got to my house, the more the butterflies began to swim in my stomach. I didn’t want this to end. I wanted to invite him in and lay with him, hold him, and touch him in ways I had never thought before. I wanted him.

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