Page 78 of Meant to be Mine

“Yes, Ms. Blake, I think I am.” I laughed and sipped the margarita. It was strong.

Soon after, the food arrived. Four different kinds of tacos, rice and beans, chips with three different salsas. Kensey’s eyes went wide.

“This is too much food,” she said.

“It’s to soak up the alcohol.”

She picked up the first taco and took a bite. I watched her face. Her eyes closed. She made that sound again, the one that went straight to my dick.

“Okay,” she said, still chewing. “This is insane.”

“Right?”

We ate without talking much, which was how you knew the food was good. We ordered a second round of drinks. I felt a buzz so I knew she was.

“I’m so full,” she said eventually. “Why do I spend so much of my time with you feeling like a whale?”

“Because food brings us joy.”

“I can’t move.”

“You’re going to have to. We’ve got a bus to catch.”

She looked at me. “A bus? Like some kind of peasant?”

I chuckled and took her hand. “Yep.”

We waddled the six blocks to the bus stop, moving slowly because we were both stuffed. The evening was cooling off and fog was starting to roll in from the bay. Kensey tucked herself against my side and I wrapped my arm around her shoulders.

The double-decker tour bus was waiting when we arrived. Bright red, open top, completely ridiculous and exactly what I wanted. I paid for two tickets and we climbed the narrow stairs to the upper level.

“Are you serious right now?” Kensey asked as we settled into seats near the front.

“We always talked about doing this,” I said.

“We did.”

The bus lurched forward and the pre-recorded tour guide’s voice crackled over the speakers, welcoming us in three different languages. Kensey laughed and shook her head. “This is so cheesy.”

“It’s perfect.”

She leaned into me, her head resting on my shoulder as the bus wound through the streets. The tour guide pointed out landmarks. The painted ladies. Alamo Square. Haight-Ashbury.

I held her hand, our fingers laced together resting on my lap. She filled my chest with electricity, making me feel more alive than I had in years.

The sun was dropping lower. I didn’t want the day to end. I wanted time to slow. I was in love with her. Completely, stupidly, irrevocably in love with her.

The realization settled over me quietly, like it had been there all along and I was only just now noticing. Of course I loved her. I’d probably loved her since I was a dumb teenager who didn’t know what love was.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked, turning to look at me.

“You.”

She smiled. “Good things, I hope.”

“Never.”

She laughed and kissed me. And it only made me fall for her more.