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His hands rest gently on my hips, my arms hang around his neck. He leans forward and rests his forehead against mine.
“Wyatt?” I whisper.
“Hmm?”
“I found our song.”
He smiles and I fall in love with him to the melody of Zach Bryan’s “Sun to Me.”
Chapter Forty
Wyatt
“Okay,ifyoucouldgo anywhere in the world, where would you go?” she asks.
We’re driving back home, and I tap the steering wheel, thinking. She’s been asking me random questions for at least thirty minutes, some silly enough to make me laugh and some deep enough to make me question my existence.
“Is it too cheesy to say where you are?” I wonder.
She rolls her eyes, but I can make out the reddening of her cheeks.
“Yes,” she teases. “Pick a place.”
“Fine, I'll pick Scotland.”
“Really? Why?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I feel like it fits my vibe.”
She laughs and I grin.
“What about you? Where would you go?” I ask.
“Everywhere.” She sighs wistfully. “I want to go everywhere.”
“Then we’ll go,” I say impulsively.
“We?”
“Well, yeah. We’re a package deal now, sunshine.”
She laughs and then yawns, pulling her legs up and wrapping her arms around her calves.
“We. I like the sound of that.” She sighs sleepily.
I smile and turn up the music a little, a few minutes later she’s asleep.
I don’t wake her up until I pull into her driveway. And even then, I wish I didn’t have to. I unbuckle my seatbelt and lean over, pushing her hair out of her face gently.
“Lucy, you’re home,” I whisper.
She stirs slightly, and opens her eyes slowly.
“You let me fall asleep,” she accuses.
“You didn’t give me much choice.” I laugh.
“Semantics.” She waves her hand.
