Page 51

“What picture did you not want me to see?”

I’d almost forgotten about that incident. “I’ve known Tatum all my life. She has more blackmail material than anyone else. I’m not sure which photos she was showing you, but I’m sure it involved some bad hairstyle and me looking awkward from my teenage years.”

He releases my hand and pulls his phone from his pocket. Holding it up, he said, “And here I thought you looked gorgeous the day we met.”

There on his phone is a photo of me in Catalina—hair blowing wildly in the wind, the ocean off in the distance behind me, and a smile that could light up Brooklyn. It’s a photo I insisted she take when we walked out of the bar where I said I think I just met the man I’m going to marry.

I may have been tipsy, but that encounter with Nick is unforgettable. A lot like the man in front of me now. Why am I already missing him? I barely know him. My heart knows him best. His sweetness toward me draws me in like a bee to his honey. Don’t even get me started on the sex . . . Call me shallow for loving our physical as much as the emotional connection we’re building, but damn, I love that he cares to put my needs at the forefront of his pleasure. That’s a first for me to experience, and now that I have, I’m not sure I want to let him go. As a matter of fact, I don’t.

I return to him. “Tatum gave you that?”

“Yeah, I asked her if I could have a copy.” His words are tentative as if I’ll tell him no. “I hope you don’t mind.”

I look back at the photo again. “I don’t mind. Now you have something to remember me by.”

“Do I need something to remember you by?” Lowering the phone, he keeps his hands to himself when all I want is to have them touching me. “Because I’ve been thinking that maybe we could give a long-distance relationship a try.” I open my mouth, but he’s quick to put a hand up to stop me. “I know you said it’s impossible because we’re in two different worlds. Beaches to skyscrapers. Sunny all year to changing seasons. Hollywood to Broadway. But if I could move my world closer to you, I would in a heartbeat. I can’t promise you I’ll see you every weekend, but I can promise you that In-N-Out Burger is pretty damn good. So whether I come here or you fly there, I think whatever this is between us is worth giving a real shot.”

“If you keep this up, Mr. Smug and Sexy, I’ll be a pile of romantic mush to clean up off the sidewalk.” I giggle, and say, “And I think you’re playing dirty by dragging burgers into this big life decision.”

“I know your Achilles heel—add in a mound of fries, not as a side, but on a plate of its own with extra ketchup on everything and all the added extras no matter the expense. That’s what I’ll give you if you give me . . . if you giveusa chance.”

“You’re speaking my love language.” If I wasn’t already weak to him, he has me ready to take the leap. I hold my hand over my stomach because now I’m hungry, but there’s too much to talk about to skip over and lose sight of this conversation over a plate of fries. “As much as I love talking about food, can we loop back to the long-distance dating part again?”

We clasp hands again and resume walking. “Yes, what do you want to know?”

“Where your heart lies.”

“My heart has been yours since that day in Catalina.”

This time when I tug him, I’m successful. “Now you’re trying to steal my heart, Mr. Christiansen?”

“I thought I was smug and sexy.”

I bump into his arm, knocking him off track just like he’s knocked me off mine. “You’re so bad. I knew you’d fixate on that part.”

He shrugs. “Well, you did call me smug, although I’d prefer to hear more about the sexy part.” I roll my eyes, and just when we reach the corner, he steps down into the street putting us closer to eye level. Cupping my face, he kisses me, and then says, “If I get the girl, I’ll be bad every damn night if I get to spend them with you, Ms. St. James. How does that sound?”

“How can I say no to that offer?”

“I’m hoping you can’t.”

I press into the space left between us. Snug in his arms, I know what I want to say. I can’t let fears of being dumped or, worse, not being good enough for him to keep me from trying.

Angling my head on his shoulder, I look up, catching my tiara before it slips off. “Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?”

His fingers weave into my hair, holding me close, and he kisses my forehead. “I am. Will you be my girlfriend, Natalie?”

My heart is racing, but there’s nowhere I’d rather be than in his arms and work my way into his heart like he’s worked his way and settled into mine. Long distance may be something new, but for him, it’s worth the fight to make it work. “I’m yours, Nick, and have been since Avalon just like you said you’ve been mine.”

We kiss, the new commitment a part of every ounce of our embrace, and two become one.

18

Nick

This fucking sucks.

It’s my turn to leave, and I don’t want to. How is this fair or right? We just decided to give a cross-country relationship a try and here I am walking out less than ten hours later.