Page 156 of Jinxes and Drumsticks

“I love you too,” I say on a breath.

And it’s a little tragic when he backs away. I can feel my heart going with him as he walks backwards as far as he can before he has to turn and exit the shop.

There goes my whole world. Carried in the pocket of his distressed jeans. I hear the shutting doors of the hatchback then watch as it passes the windows of the shop. I sigh, cupping my chin in my hands. I think about texting him, then think that would be stupid.

But my phone buzzes on the counter, his picture coming up on the screen with a phone call. I huff a laugh and pick it up.

“Forget something?” I ask.

“No. I mean—well—kind of,” he says. “I feel like I do my best work when I’m cursing the distance between us, you know?”

“What?” I say.

“Like—okay. I asked you to be my girlfriend when I was away in San Diego,” he says.

“Yeah,” I say as Oren says something about it being embarrassing that he did that.

“And then I told you I loved you for the first time when I was on my way to Big Bear.”

“I technically said it first,” I say.

“Implied it,” he debates. “But don’t derail me babe.”

I think I hear Roxie say, “Let the man cook!”

“Okay,” I say chuckling. “What’s next. Should we get a puppy together?”

“And hurt Gloam that way? Not a chance, babe,” he says. “Nah, I was just wondering. How about we make that whole aura sharing thing official?”

“It’s pretty official already,” I say. “Irreversible, and all that.”

He’s silent on the other side of the line. Then the van is also mysteriously quiet. It dawns on me then, what he’s saying. What he means.

“Wait... Damien... are you—”

“Yeah,” he says. “Let’s keep up this whole ‘do major relationship milestones over the phone’ thing.”

“Damien... We’ve only been together for like... a few months,” I say.

“Lillith. I’ve never been more certain of someone than I am of you,” he says. “Come on. What do you say? Want to be a stereotype and get married to a dysfunctional rockstar?”

My face hurts from smiling so much.

“Oh...kay?” I say.

“Okay?” he asks. “Is that a yes?”

“Yeah,” I say, laughing. “Yeah. I’ll marry you.”

Cheers peal out so loudly from the phone that I have to pull it away from my ear. I realize he had me on speaker phone this whole time.

And all of his bandmates are celebrating with him. Celebrating us. My heart feels impossibly full. Like it might burst.

His voice suddenly sounds closer. Clearer.

“I promise I’ll do it properly when I’m back home. You deserve a real proposal, and I’ll give that to you,” he says, low. Intimate. “But... I don’t know. Car rides feel like good luck, these days. You know?”

“Yeah,” I say. “I know.”