Page 148 of Where Roads Lead

“Elsie, would you please look at me?” he asked, tone gentle and tender.

“Why?” I peeked out between my fingers, watching as his hands came up to lower mine from my face.

“Because I want to answer your question.”

“Please don’t.” I tried to hide again, but he held my wrists firmly, forcing me to look at him.

“The thing is, I don’t really understand what all the lingo is, but to me, dating implies that we’d be hanging out, trying to see if we like each other,” he started. “But I already know I like you.”

“I like you too,” I whispered.

“That’s a relief,” he said. “Because I don’t want to date you. I want to be with you. Exclusively and long term. And whatever term applies to that, then that’s what I want.”

“Oh,” I said, feeling suddenly giddy at the thought of the man beside me saying all that to me.

“Oh?” he asked. “Come on, Els. I need something more than that.”

“Right. Sorry,” I said quickly, turning toward him before sitting into a crisscross position. “I was just overwhelmed because, well, I really like you, Will. Like, really, really like. Like, I think I’ve had a big, stupid crush on you for the last month, at least.”

“Just the last month?” he asked with a scoff. “I’ve been done for since that first day.”

“Nuh-uh.” I slapped his arm. “You hated me. I remember.”

“Did not.”

“Did too. But it’s okay, because I hated you too.”

“Hated me?” He barked a laugh. “That’s kind of harsh, Els.”

“Don’t you remember? You were a jerk to me.”

“Because I was pissed off that you infiltrated my brain without me having a say in it.”

I rolled my eyes dramatically before resting my head against his shoulder, my arm coming up to wrap around his bicep and hug it toward me.

“Fine,” I said. “Prove it then.”

“Prove what?”

“If you liked me right away, what’s the first thing you noticed about me?”

“Easy. Your hair.”

I shook my head. “Boring answer. Everyone says that. Pick something else.”

“But it’s the truth.”

“Don’t care. Make something up.”

“Fine, well. I guess the next thing I noticed was your hands. When I got up closer.”

“My hands?”

“Yeah. You had ink stains all over them, smudged on the sides of your fingers.”

I laughed, shocked that he actually noticed such a trivial thing about a stranger.

“Why on earth would you notice my hands?”