I waited.
“Will you be my partner?”
Emotion crowded my chest until I could barely speak.
I touched his face.
“Yes.”
His eye filled immediately.
“Just yes?”
“Yes, Noah.”
I leaned closer.
“I want to be your partner. I want this life with you. The one we have now.”
A small laugh escaped him.
“I thought you’d make a speech.”
“I can.”
“No.”
“Too late.”
He caught the front of my coat.
I kissed him before either of us could lose control of the moment.
The kiss tasted faintly of chowder, coffee, and salt air.
Noah laughed against my mouth.
I held his face between my hands, gentler than the happiness inside me.
He kissed me again.
Then again, as if the decision needed repeating in touch.
When we separated, his cheeks were bright from cold and emotion.
“You’re my boyfriend,” he said.
“Partner.”
“Boyfriend when I want to annoy you.”
“Then nothing has changed.”
“No.”
His expression softened.
“Something has.”
