He turned toward me fully.
“That’s why I’m staying.”
My breath caught.
“Noah.”
“I chose your apartment because you felt safe. I chose your bed because I slept better beside you. I chose the yard because I knew the work.”
He took a breath.
“I’m choosing you now because I know you.”
I could not speak.
His voice became less steady.
“Not all of you. Not six years. But enough to know what I want.”
“What do you want?”
He gave me a nervous smile.
“A word.”
“What word?”
“Boyfriend sounds too young.”
“It does.”
“Partner sounds like we’re discussing taxes.”
“We often are.”
“Stop.”
I smiled despite the pressure in my chest.
Noah rubbed his thumb across my knuckles.
“I want us to be together because I said yes today. Not because a photograph says we were.”
“We are dating.”
“I know.”
“I sleep in our bed.”
“Yes.”
“We kiss in the workshop.”
“Frequently.”
He looked exasperated.
“Reid.”
