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“And I can kiss you? Every day?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say, all manner of reason escaping me. “Yes, please.”
Derek leans in, finally pressing his lips to mine and though I feel like the moment just before was torturously long, I exhale against his mouth, a rush of relief flowing through me.
His hand tangles in the hair at the base of my neck, his mouth devouring me with a hunger I’ve rarely known.
“And maybe more,” he whispers.
“Definitely more.”
He kisses me hard, and I relish every moment of it.
I’ve never been the girl who needed the promise of forever. It never rang realistic to me. But I’ve always needed hope. I’ve always needed the possibility, the promise of maybe.
Derek Tanner has always been my hope.
Now, as we move forward, he can be my hopefully, maybe, forever.
Epilogue
DEREK
Three Months Later
“That was the best concert,” Willette says, still giddy in the passenger seat.
“To my surprise, going to see a band called Rainbow Kitten Surprise was actually pretty good, despite their name,” I say.
“Hey!” she exclaims. “That’s a brilliant name.”
“They’re brilliant musicians. That’s all I’m willing to say.” I laugh.
“Are we staying at my apartment or your place?” she asks.
“I thought we might stay at mine tonight,” I say.
She accepts this as she has many times before. Over the past few months, we’ve settled into a bit of a routine as a couple. It’s been surprisingly nice.
In all honesty, I’m not sure why I avoided attachments like this before. Which is why my seemingly normal request to stay at my house is a little different tonight.
Tonight is special.
“Do you want to grab some food on the way?” she asks.
“Actually, I went shopping,” I say.
“I’m sorry, what? Who are you and what have you done with Derek?” she says in mock surprise.
Of course, I don’t blame her for responding this way. I think since I’ve lived in the house, I’ve only gone shopping like three times. All other time spent together is getting or ordering food or Willette bringing the needed ingredients for whatever she cooks. And god bless her cooking, might I add. Sometimes she prepares meals for me throughout the week so I don’t have to eat junk at work. And she sets my coffeemaker on a timer because she knows I’m too lazy to make it for myself in the mornings.
“I know, I’m growing up,” I tell her. I’m not lying. It’s not even really sarcasm. Since being with her, I have grown up, in many ways.
We pull into the driveway, her car parked here from earlier. Well, her new car. It took me forever to convince her to get a new one. I even insisted on helping her with a down payment. Not to show off or be flashy. Willette has always had her own money. But I wanted to help mostly because I was the one who insisted on the exchange. For her safety.
“I hope you have something good. I’m starving,” she says as she exits the car.
“Don’t you worry,” I assure her.
