Page 89 of Connectio

“Her name is Princess Fiona.”

“Princess Fiona?” I burst out laughing and turn to face him.

“Yes, and the little dude hiding in the corner is Shrek.”

Scrutinizing the corners of the tank, I spot a tortoise just as Will takes Casper from my grasp, puts him on the ground, and stands directly in front of me, arms crossed over his puffed chest, eyes stern.

“What?” I ask.

“Not all men do that.”

“Do what?”

“Let you down.”

I cross my arms too. “Well, I haven’t come across one who hasn’t.”

“Yeah, you have.” He steps forward, his wrists bumping mine.

I step back. “That’s yet to be seen.”

He steps forward again. “So let me show you.”

“I…” I hold up my hand like a stop sign. “I don’t know. I’m—”

“You’re basing that judgement on him, aren’t you?”

“Him?” I ask, confused.

His eyes narrow. “Oliver.”

I almost choke on the name. “Oliver?”

“Yes.”

I shake my head. “Oliver and I have never dated.” Pausing for a second, I doubt my own words. “Well, I don’t think we have. I’m not really sure.”

“That says a lot.”

Stepping back once again, I scratch the base of my neck. It’s not really itchy, so I don’t know why I do it. “I’m not following.”

“Oliver is a fucksqueak who wouldn’t know pure gold from a pile of shit even if he shit it out himself.” He takes my hands in his. “But I do. I know you’re gold, sweetheart. A prize. And I know I wanna win you.” He closes his eyes. “No, I wanna earn you,” he says, opening them again. Will lets go of my hands and cradles my face. “I wanna be the man who doesn’t let you down, the man who gives you your fairy tale.”

Unable to speak or think, I stand there with nothing but my racing pulse, a heavy throat, and a chest so tight I’m not sure if I’m breathing or not. I’ve never felt this… this alive and useless at the same time.

“Why, Will? Why me?”

His eyes crinkle, and he tilts my chin so that I’ve nowhere else to look but at him. “Because, from the moment I first saw you, I haven’t been able to unsee you. You’re there when you’re not, in my head and in my bed. You’re all I think about, Elizabeth. And that means something.” He gently rubs the pad of his thumb across my cheek. “So let me be that man for you. Let me give you your fairy tale.”

“You can’t.” I swallow, blinking back tears I don’t want him to see. “No one can.”

“Then let me at least try.”

Staring at his lips, I bite my own. Should I let him try? I want to. Really want to. Threading my fingers through his hair, I give in and pull his head down to mine, kissing him like I’ve never kissed a man before. Deep. Sincere. With purpose.

Will envelops me in his arms and lifts me from the ground, our mouths magnets as I wrap my legs around his waist and squeeze him tight, gently grinding against him for the need of friction I didn’t know I craved.

He tastes like Powerade and candy, and I’m finally ready for a sugar rush.