He doesn’t want to end things.
He wants to repair them.
The realization arrows down to her toes, warming them inside her boots.
“Even after we agreed it wasn’t serious?” She doesn’t get it. She’s giving him an escape hatch, setting him free from this life he never consented to—and he isn’t running.
The look on his face could crack her open. The way his hair curls from beneath the beanie—unfairly touchable. “I thought that’s what you wanted. Ramona…you have to know, I’ve been serious about you for months.”
“I just—I’m not sure I understand why,” Ramona says, fighting against the ache in her ribs, even as she realizes how skittish they both were during that conversation. But it isn’t panic, she doesn’t think, and she’s not being purposefully dense—it’s just that all of this is so foreign to her. “Why I’m worth all this effort. I know it’s not just the way I look.”
There’s that insecurity, rearing its ugly head again.
“No,” he says, “I didn’t gamble with my career just because you’re so beautiful it’s devastating, or because sometimes I can’t believe you’re even looking at me the way you do.” He inches closer, brushing her coat sleeve with his. “You’re the most honest person I know. You’re sharp, and you’re funny, and I never know what you’re thinking, which at the beginning was incredibly frustrating, but now I love how you surprise me. You have a giant house full of things I’d never be able to afford, but your favorite thing is a five-dollar saltshaker. And maybe you want the world to think you’re this angry storm cloud of a person, but I think you’re the opposite.” Another step closer. “When you showed upin class the first day of the quarter, I was so deep in my own head, I didn’t know if anything could drag me out. And then you were there, insulting me and challenging me and making me believe I could trust someone again. We were both in the dark, I think, but somehow we could still see each other.
“The timing and circumstances were…questionable,” he continues with a quarter smile, “but, Ramona, you didn’t just drag me out of the dark. You gave me a flashlight, and you let me follow you.”
She doesn’t even know where to start. Her throat is dry, heart racing. And she knows, even without looking at him, that he means every single word. Because Nick isn’t someone who makes grand platitudes unless he’s ready to put his whole soul into them.
He’s thoughtful and he’s caring and he’sgood, and he wantsher.
Not the girl on the album covers. Not the one with the Getty-stamped watermark.
“I don’t even know what the hell I’m doing with my life, though,” she says quietly. “I’m just…in this weird limbo, still trying to figure out what I’m good at.”
“Funny,” he says with a small smile. “That’s exactly why most people go to college.” He curls his index finger through a strand of her hair, then lets it go. “I know you want to be normal, but you’re probably always going to be famous, Ramona. Yes, it was a little jarring that first time, seeing my face on the internet. But if that’s what I have to go through in order to be with you, it isn’t even a hurdle—that’s how badly I want you.
“We’ll be smart about it. We’ll get the highest-end security cameras invented. Whatever the media puts you through, whatever you decide you want to do—I can handle it. I mean, fuck, do you know why I haven’t signed a lease for any of those apartments?Because I couldn’t picture you there with me.” His thumb finds her wrist, strokes her pulse point, and that simple touch could light a fire inside her chest. “I don’t want you to be a secret—I want you to be my girlfriend. I want a life with you. And I think you’re trying to push me away because you’ve never let someone get this close, but I’m not just some idiot who isn’t going to fight for you.”
Girlfriend.
In all her years of performing, it’s a role she’s never truly played. Not with someone who made her feel this safe.
She knows now, probably should have always known, that she can’t simply stop being famous just because she wants to. There is no obscurity for her, and maybe she can use it to her advantage.
Even as all the tightest parts of herself uncoil, she has one last Hail Mary. One last fragment of her old self fighting for control.
“And what if it’s not what I want?” she asks, even though she’s never wanted anything more. Lazy Sundays and cooking brunch together and watching a basketball game in the worst seats in the arena. “Maybe I want someone casual. Someone who doesn’t try to overanalyze everything I do. Maybe”—her voice catches—“maybe I only want you to fuck me like it doesn’t mean anything.”
“I don’t think you do, honey.” He draws her in close, kisses her wet eyelids. Ramona didn’t even realize she was crying. “It’s never meant nothing to me. Not even that first time.” Mouth on the tip of her nose. “I think you want to be adored. Treasured.” He kisses each of her cheeks. “I think you want someone to drop everything just because you’re sick. Someone to tease, and someone who teases you back. And then I think you want to be fucked by someone who loves you. Someone who’s going to take their time with you, who isn’t going to let you go until you’re swearingtheir name.” His voice has dropped, sending shivers up her spine. “I want to do all of that for you—I’m dying to. If you’d let me.”
The vision he’s painted goes against all her instincts, her desire for self-preservation and control.
Somehow he’s seen her so clearly when she wanted the whole world to stop looking.
“I’ve been scared to,” she finally admits, eyes shut as his thumb caresses her cheekbone. Her breathing is erratic, but there’s that calming scent of him, folded between layers of coat and scarf. She can’t believe she was ready to let this go. Thank god he was willing to fight for it. “You just—you upended my entire life a few months after I upended it myself, but, Nick…you made it all makesense. I never have to perform when I’m around you, and it’s the biggest relief I could possibly imagine. You make me feel like I’m whole, exactly the way I am.”
“You are,” he says, voice ragged.
She runs her hands up his coat, tucks them where his scarf meets his neck. One finger lifting up to graze his earring. He deserves every romantic thought she’s ever had and more. “I like you when you’re honest with me. When you’re teasing me. I like you as a vinyl snob, and a Clippers superfan, and a trivia nerd—you have no idea how badly I want to see your team play. I like you when you’re bribing my cat. I like you in front of the classroom, running around and making everyone fall in love with psychology, and when you’re wrapped up in your grading with the cutest look of concentration on your face. I like you in bed—or up against a wall, or on a desk, or wherever else you want me.” A brush of her lips against the scruff of his jaw. “But I think most of all…I like youhere. With me. Just…trying our best and existing together.”
His eyes flutter shut for a moment, and when he opens them back up, there’s a new softness there—or maybe she just hasn’t let herself see it. “Ramona. I love you with my whole fucking heart. Maybe it’s not enough, but it’s all I have. I’m not saying it expecting anything back, I just—I can’t keep it to myself anymore—”
She kisses him hard. Cold tips of their noses, warm mouths, utterly lost to each other. “I love you too,” she says against his lips, and suddenly she can’t believe how easy it is. “I am so out of my mind in love with you, Nick Navarro.”
Then she can’t stop saying it and neither can he, the two of them passing it back and forth as snowflakes melt on their cheeks. They’ll have to return to the cabin eventually, but for now all they can do is press closer. Hold tighter.Savor.
He unzips his coat and bundles her right up against his heart—her favorite place, and her favorite person, and her new favorite three words.
