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“And a date,” Haze adds.
“And write ours wedding vows.”
“I don’t need to write my wedding vows. I’ve got them all right here.” He taps his forehead.
“Really?” I cross my arms over my chest. “Go ahead. Let’s hear it, then.”
He clears his throat and picks my hand into his. “When I was in high school, I met a girl. She called me out on my shit. We fell in love. After six years of me pestering her, she finally agreed to marry me.”
“That’s it?” I mock.
“I didn’t say it was long.”
He draws a laugh out of me and grins, proud of himself.
“Jerk,” I tell him.
“Prude,” he says right back.
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