Page 126 of Into Pitch

“This is insane.”

“I’m aware.”

“You don’t believe in doing things halfway, do you?” She rasps, amused.

“No.”

I watch as her lips part, then press back together. I can see the gears turning and the way she’s already plotting three steps ahead.

“This isn’t romantic,” she mutters.

“I’m not romantic.”

She snorts. “Yeah, well that I’m aware of. It’s not normal either.”

“We aren’t normal.”

She laughs incredulously, scrubbing a hand down her face. “You’re asking me to marry you like you’re asking me to stay over for dinner.”

I reach up, brushing my knuckles along her jaw. “I’m asking because I don’t intend on ever losing you. And because I won’t lie to you about what I want.”

“And what if I say no?” She sighs. A question she asks quite often I am finding. Each time giving me greater and greater amusement.

I don’t hesitate, tugging on a lock of her golden hair. “Then you’ll still leave this room alive and unrestrained.”

She levels her eyes at me, clearly not overly enthused with my try at humor.

“But, I will still love you and I will still wait.”

She chuckles and smacks my chest. “Insanity.”

“I think the word honest we toss around quite a bit is more fitting,” I tease.

She studies me for a long moment, then exhales before collapsing back against my chest. Groaning as she presses her forehead into my shoulder.

“You are a lot.”

“That I am aware of,” I murmur softly.

Her fingers wrap around the back of my neck, toying with the strands of hair that she’d already mussed with her fingers.

“I’m not answering that right now,” she decides softly.

I hum, smiling as I tighten my arms around her and pull her to me. “Take your time.”

And I mean it, because whatever comes next?

She’s not going anywhere, and neither am I.

I text Imogen once I make it back to the bus and she shows up like a force of nature.

I’m barefoot, still half-unpacked emotionally and very unpacked physically, when she pounds her fist off my door.

“You alive in there?” She yelps as she barrels in. “Because if you’re not, I’m kicking this thing over.”

I unlock the door and barely get it open before she’s inside, eyes sweeping over me in a rapid, ruthless scan. She goes as far as to grab my face with both hands, tilting it left and right like she’s checking for cracks.

“You look… uh, intact?” She mutters.