Page 49 of Hats off to Love

She startles but quickly covers it up. “So many of my friends have reached out and asked about us.”

“Suzy, there is no us, and there never will be,” he tells her in a tone that leaves no questions. “That picture was a lie, most likely orchestrated by you, and quite frankly, I’m disgusted by your enthusiasm over it.”

She starts to say something, but I cut her off. “If you’ll excuse us, we’re famished, and I see snacks over there. Can’t have poor Stokes getting hangry, now can I?” I laugh, and without another glance in her direction, we walk off hand in hand.

“Hangry,” he whispers against my ear.

Looking up at him, I see his face is amused, and I again decide it’s way too pretty for him. “Just keepin’ it real,” I whisper back as we stop next to a table near the food. “You were all tense and super growly back there—not that she didn’t deserve it, but you’re much more pleasant after you’ve eaten.” I grin.

He just shakes his head and pulls me close.

Why is it so easy for us to be affectionate like this?

“You look great tonight,” he says, his lips pressed into my hair.

I’m wearing a burgundy sweater dress with black leggings underneath and black ankle boots. Right now, I want to go out and buy three more of this dress in different colors so he’ll compliment me again.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” I tell him, when really I think he’s the best-looking person here, perhaps in all of Louisville.

He hugs me tighter and then releases me.

“Food,” he says, and I giggle. Maybe he is a bit hangry.

Over and over people come over to say hello to us. This time I don’t feel so out of place as people are becoming familiar, and I love watching him with Christopher, who is once again alone.

Stokes laughs with him. Well, it’s more of a chuckle, but coming from him, it is a laugh, and I soak up the sound. The sound, the smile—all of it has my children butterflies turning into teenagers. They keep growing and stretching, and I know before long, if I’m not careful, they will be fully grown.

As the fireworks start, the lights on the roof dim, and we head to the railing of the building, where Stokes moves behind me. There are people everywhere—on other rooftops, all along the riverfront, even here, next to us—but as the large sparkly explosions light up the night sky in varying colors, I feel like we are the only two people on the planet.

Gold. Red. Silver. Green.

Flares. Shapes. Bursts. Falling stars.

Booms that rattle my chest and send tingles straight down to my toes.

Beautiful.

Or maybe it’s Stokes.

As we watch, his hands slowly run down my arms to find mine, and our fingers lock together. Using the backs of his hands, he softly pushes on my hips to bring us flush against one another, my back to his front, and while I’m being surrounded by his heat, his muscles, and his smell, I lean my head against him.

I’m standing here, like this, with Stokes. It’s still a little hard for me to wrap my head around this, us. With the feeling of being pressed against him, him against me, my emotions vary from suspicious and surreal to DNA-altering.

At some point, although I’m looking out at the fireworks, I no longer see them. I’m lost in my head and lost in him. Every breath he takes, every shift of his muscles . . . I’m so in tune with him that I just want more. Raising our hands, I cross them over my stomach and let out a contented sigh as his arms wrap around me.

His head drops down so his forehead rests on my shoulder, and his arms tighten. His soft hair tickles the side of my neck, and my eyes slip shut. I’m completely enveloped by him, and it’s the most incredible feeling. He breathes in and out, and the air wafts against my skin, giving me goose bumps and a yearning so deep in my bones I’m certain only he has the ability to ease the weight of this feeling.

Eventually the fireworks end, but neither of us move as the people around us begin murmuring about the show and walking away from the edge. We, however, stay frozen together. I’m afraid to move, afraid to pop the bubble he’s encased us in, and I’m afraid that once we drift away, I’ll never get this again.

“Rosie,” he whispers, his lips brushing against my ear. I shiver, and he tucks his face into my neck.

I close my eyes to memorize this moment. I want to relive it once the night is over, but as he says my name again, I know it’s time. Turning, I slide around in his arms and look up at his face. Even though it is still dark, I can see and feel his gaze. It’s deliciously potent with his eyes halfway closed and his stare imprinting on my soul. He’s so familiar and so handsome I find it hard to breathe.

“Thank you for bringing me,” I tell him, wishing we could stop time and this night could be stretched longer.

“Thank you for saying yes,” he says as he tucks a piece of loose hair behind my ear then wraps his hand around the side of my face.

Are people watching us? Maybe, but at this moment, I don’t care, and I don’t think he does either. After all these weeks, all this time, maybe even all these years, it’s all come down to this.