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Smash

Page 103

by Penelope Ward, Vi Keeland

My brows pulled together. “Seriously?”

“Yep. I also made a list.”

“A list of…”

“Lots of things.” He pointed to the kitchen counter, where a notebook sat open beside a pen. “A list of meal-prep ideas. Long-term goals. Habits I need to work on.”

I looked from the notebook back to him. “Rafe…”

“I figured I should show you what a new-and-improved version of me could look like. One who has dinner planned and doesn’t have blue paint on the bottom of his left foot.”

“Blue paint?”

He held up a hand. “Alright, so I couldn’t get it all off. The bottom of my big toe might still be blue.”

Then I realized what he was doing. Rafe wasn’t being funny. He was trying—painfully, sweetly, and completely the wrong way. “You’re acting like Calder.”

“I’m acting like an adult, someone a woman chooses for more than a night.”

That hurt my heart. I set my bag down. “Is that what you think you are?”

He looked away. “I know what I am. Or what I was.”

“No, you don’t.” I stepped closer. “I like you the way you are, Rafe.”

“For now.” He laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Women like me the way I am for now. For fun. But they always go back to the guy with loafers.”

I looked down, and my heart squeezed again when I saw what was on his feet. His apparently blue toe was covered in a brown leather loafer.

“I don’t want to be your for now, Talia. I want you to look at me and be able to see forever.”

I felt all the air leave my lungs. All day, I’d been thinking about what Rafe’s proposal meant for me. What risk I’d be taking. But I hadn’t once thought about what it had cost him to ask.

I reached for him, pulling the baseball cap off his head. His beautiful curls fell around his face, and I slid my fingers into his hair.

He closed his eyes.

“I don’t want Commitment Rafe,” I whispered.

His eyes opened.

“I don’t want Rafe in costume. I don’t want button-up shirts and khakis. I don’t want you to read books to figure out how to be in a relationship. I want your feet blue, your hair wild and crazy, and your jeans ripped. I certainly appreciate what you’re trying to do, but the best thing you can give me in a relationship is you.” I rested my palms against his chest. “I want you, Rafe.”

For a second, neither of us spoke.

“Does that mean you’re giving me two weeks?” he asked.

“It means I would spend the rest of my life wondering what if, if I didn’t.”

A smile spread across his face. “Yeah?”

I nodded. “Under one condition.”

“Name it.”

“Go change out of that outfit.”

“Into what?”