I swipe to accept. “Congratulations, you broke the internet. That photo’s everywhere.Rolling Stonewants to run it, and half your fans think you’re secretly married. Apparently, there's some random napkin snapshot from a Waffle House trending with your hashtag, too. Whatever you’re doing,keep doing it.”
Kasia looks over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow.
I meet her gaze and say into the phone, “I plan on it.”
The ride back feels shorter than it should, it always does when you don’t want to arrive. The highway burns beneath us, sunlight flickering through the gaps in the trees, and every mile feels like it’s undoing the last few hours. Kasia’s arms are wrapped around me, tighter than before. It’s not just holding, it’s clinging, like she’s trying to imprint the shape of me to her body before the day has to end.
I keep telling myself to enjoy it, the wind, the warmth of her against my back, but every second the tires eat up is one less I get with her. When we finally pull up outside her place, I kill the engine and just sit there, helmet still on, like maybe if I don’t move, time won’t either.
She taps my shoulder. “You alive under there?”
“Barely.” I pull off the helmet, rake a hand through my hair. She’s already unbuckled hers, smiling that soft, tired smile that kills me.
“Thanks for the kidnapping,” she says. “And breakfast, and the impromptu PR campaign.”
“My pleasure,” I say. Then, before I can give her time to think up an excuse: “Can I see you this week?”
Her eyebrows lift. “You remember what I said, doctors don’t do school nights.”
“I’ll be good,” I promise, grinning. “No chaos, no distractions. I won’t make a mess, you can even give me a stick to chew on.”
She laughs, shaking her head. “You’re something else.”
“That’s nota no.”
She starts to step back, still laughing, but I catch her wrist before she can. The joke dies in my throat when she turns to look at me. I tug her closer, just enough to feel the rhythm of her breathing against mine. My voice drops without meaning to.
“I’m pretending again. I gotta stop doing that, acting like it doesn’t matter,” I say. “It does. Ineedto see you. I mean it.”
For a heartbeat, she just looks at me, the weight of something that could break me if I let it. Then she leans in, “Then ask me,” she whispers. “Properly.”
I blink back a shocked laugh. “What do you want me to do?”
She tilts her head, daring me. “You’ll figure it out.”
So I do the first stupid thing that comes to mind, drop down onto one knee right there on the pavement.
Her eyes go wide. “Rafe—oh myGod.Get up!”
“What?” I spread my arms. “Is this what you meant?”
She’s laughing now, cheeks flushed, glancing around like we’ve just set off a fire alarm.
“Someone’s going to take a picture!”
“I don’t care,” I say, still kneeling. “Half the internet already thinks I'm married. Might as well give them something to talk about.”
She swats my arm. “Get up, you idiot.Kurwa.”
I grin, stand, but before she can step back again I catch her waist, pull her close, close enough that I can feel her breath against my neck.
“Alright then,” I murmur. “Dr. Kasia Sawadzka, would you do me the honor of having dinner with me on ascandalousWednesday night?”
Her lips twitch. “Scandalous?”
“Utterly. There will be wine, possibly dessert. I even promise to chew with mymouth closed.We'll be daring the god's wrath, under the full moon of a bloodyschool night.”
She bites back a smile, trying to keep it formal, but I see it, the yes before she even nods.
