Page 49 of Fun Together (Make Romance #1)

Faye

It’s a perfect evening for a date.

The weather is finally cooling off and the fresh change in season has given the city a burst of energy.

I pull up in front of Eli’s apartment and wipe my palms on my dress. I’m nervous, but excited too. In all the times we’ve hung out together, we’ve never actually gone on a real date. It’s nice to be nervous for a date that you’re actually looking forward to.

I go up the stairs and give his door a soft knock. It opens almost immediately, and my heart firmly lodges itself in my throat when I see him standing there.

He’s styled his hair in a different way, his usual waves pushed back from his face. His facial hair is trimmed, and he looks so good I swoon a little. Our eyes stay fixed on each other as he steps back to hold his arm out for me to come in.

“Hi,” I say, breathless. I don’t think I’ve taken a single breath since he opened the door.

He leans down to hug me, wrapping his arms around my lower back. “You look beautiful,” he says into my hair.

His hug makes my nerves completely subside, and I’m left feeling the familiar warmth I always do with him.

“Thank you.” I wore the dress I bought that day we went shopping. I also exfoliated my body within an inch of its life and based on how he’s looking at me right now, I’m glad I did. “You look very handsome.”

He looks down at his outfit and smirks. “Hope you don’t mind the Hanes white tee.”

“I don’t mind it at all.” He looks like Eli. Relaxed, comforting, playful Eli. “Sorry I’m a little early.”

“That’s okay. I’ve been ready for two hours,” he admits. “I was a little eager.”

I smile up at him. “I was too.” I look around his place. It’s s single room, with a small kitchenette in the back. It’s small, but tidy. “I like your place.”

“Yeah, it’s been good to have my own little spot. You want to sit down?” He gestures to the couch.

I take a seat, and then it’s quiet. We both look around, as if thinking of something to say. Then we make eye contact and both start laughing.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

“Water would be good,” I say.

He grabs a couple of glasses from a shelf and fills them at the sink.

“Did you have to work today?” I ask.

He hands my glass to me. “My dad brought Pebbles by for a spa day.”

This makes me giggle, imagining the giant dog sitting there with cucumber slices over her eyes. “Good for Pebbles.”

He turns toward me, inching a little closer. “Did you have any pets growing up?”

I look down at my glass. “There was a stray cat that used to come around sometimes, and I would always leave food out for her. I named her Possum.” I laugh at the memory.

“I would sit by the screen door of my grandpa’s kitchen and watch for her to come up.

But every time I opened the door, she’d run off.

” I haven’t thought about that cat in years.

“I’m sure Possum appreciated you leaving food out for her even though she was scared of you.”

“Yeah, it was always disappointing, though. I wanted so badly to pick her up and cuddle her.” I feel embarrassed about that for some reason.

His gaze wanders over my face. “You should get a cat.”

I laugh. “Maybe I should. I’m surprised you don’t have a dog. You seem like the type that would have a golden retriever or a chocolate lab that you bring around to breweries.”

His eyes sparkle with good natured mischief. “Why do I feel like you’re making fun of me?”

“I’m not making fun,” I take a sip of my drink to hide my smile. “Just making an observation.”

He checks the time on his phone. “It’s 6:30. Should we head out?”

I fiddle with the edge of my dress, suddenly hesitant to leave. We have a seven o’clock reservation at a restaurant downtown, where I was planning to give my whole spiel. But that feels wrong. It doesn’t feel like us.

This, us sitting together on the couch talking, feels like us.

“Actually, can I . . . can I tell you something first?”

He leans forward, looking at me in his intense, but gentle way. “Of course.”

The butterflies in my stomach are back and they have teeth that tear at my stomach lining. It’s silly, but I feel like I’m about to hand him my heart. He already has it anyway, but it’s like I’m fully acknowledging it now.

“I want to tell you more . . . about me.” I laugh. “I know that sounds ridiculous, considering how long we’ve known each other. But I know that I’m not exactly an open book.”

He nods his head, encouraging me to go on. “Okay.”

I clear my throat. “Two truths and a lie.”

He smiles and it’s so sweet I want to eat it.

“When I was six, my mom left me to live with my grandpa for about five or six years. One night, I overheard her telling my grandpa she was leaving, but I thought she meant she’d be gone for like a week or something.

I don’t know, I was little. I even felt kind of excited because my grandpa let me watch all the SpongeBob I wanted. ”

He reaches over and gives my hand a squeeze.

I turn my hand so that my palm lies in his.

“But then weeks passed, and she didn’t come home.

Then I started freaking out, thinking she was dead or kidnapped or whatever my little kid imagination conjured up.

Finally, I asked my grandpa where she was.

” I take a sip of my drink. “Long story short, I didn’t see her again until I was thirteen, shortly before I started high school. ”

“That must have been hard,” he says, brow furrowing with concern.

“I felt like I didn’t even know her, like she was some stranger who showed up one day, expecting everything to be fine.”

“I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

“I had my grandpa, at least. Not many people can say they had someone there for them.”

“Still, you were just a kid. You should have been worried about math tests and field trips.”

“I had this fear, I don’t know, that I would become her. Because when Andrew and I broke up, I felt so guilty. I didn’t want to be alone, but I didn’t want to stay with him, knowing that I wasn’t ever going to marry him.”

His thumb runs back and forth over my hand. “I understand.”

I take a deep breath. “And I lied to you before.”

“About what?”

“You asked me to admit that you didn’t make me happy. But you make me happier than I’ve ever been, and I’ve decided that I need to be brave enough to not only accept that but reciprocate it.” I take a deep breath. “So. . . my final truth is that I love you.”

I set my glass down on his side table. “I love you, because there is no one like you. Who makes me laugh like you. Who sees me, and knows me, like you. And I see you, too. I see you show up for your family and care for your friends. I see you step into everyone room like a beam of sunshine. I want all of your chatter, all of your warmth.” I wrap my arms around his neck.

“I want your bad days, too. To take care of you and support you. I want to try all of it, with you.”

Then he kisses me, hard, before holding my face in his hands. “I love you, Faye.”

The kiss we share is so forceful we both lose balance, and he manages to catch my body as we roll off the couch. We laugh as we kiss and it’s perfect.

He lifts his head up, looking down at me with those sweet, teasing eyes I will never get enough of. “I think we might miss that dinner reservation.”

A piece of hair falls over his brow and I brush it back before pulling his mouth back to mine. I murmur against his lips, “Fine by me.”

We do what we’ve done countless times before but tonight is different. His hands on me are possessive, and my lips on his are finally home. We move together with no more doubts clouding the air between us.

I bury my face in the tender heat of his neck and whisper, “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you more,” he says before pressing his lips to my hair.

I’m so glad I won’t have to miss him anymore.