Page 128 of That Fake Feeling

Connortakes another step closer.

“So, yes,Ihope you’re proud of me.Butfor the first time,I’mproud of myself.AndIknowIcouldn’t have done it without everything you opened my eyes to.”

I’venever been prouder of anything or anyone. “Youalways had it in you,Connor.Iknow you did.”

Heshrugs one shoulder. “Idon’t know about that.Youdefinitely brought it out.”

Iswallow past the giant lump in my throat. “Well, look what you brought out in me.LookwhereIam.”Ipoint atAuntJen.

Shepoints at herself. “Me?WhatdidIdo?”

Mylaugh shatters the tension in my body and knocks tears down each cheek.Iwipe them away with the back of my hand asImeetConnor’seyes.

“Youtaught me that shutting myself off and not letting anyone close might be safe, but it’s no way to live.”Isniff. “Andit’s definitely no way to love.”

Connordrops his chin and looks up at me from under his brow, his mouth quirked at one corner. “Areyou telling me you love me?”

Shit.Iam.

Neverin a million years didIimagine that the first timeItold the man of my dreamsIlove him would be in the middle of aWashingtoncoffee shop with the owners, the locals, andAuntJenstaring at me while rainwater drips off my raincoat, forming a puddle around my feet.

Inod.Theactual words can wait for another, more private moment.

AuntJengasps and her feet do a little tappy dance.

“Iknew beforeIleft,”Itell him. “It’swhyIcouldn’t face you to say goodbye.So,Icame out here to seeAuntJenand pull myself together and get over you.ButIcouldn’t.Thenyou paid all my bills, andIwondered if maybe you might feel the same.Iwas going to go see you and tell you whenIget back toNewYork.”

“Well,Icouldn’t wait a second longer.”Hebeams. “AndIalso can’t wait any longer to tell you, and everyone in this shop, thatIloveRoseBellamore!”Hespreads his arms wide, throws back his head, and shouts the last four words.

Ishould be embarrassed, but it just makes me love him more.Anaffectionate laugh ripples through the other occupants of the shop, and there’s a whoop fromMikey.

Asthe chuckles die down,Connormoves toward me till he’s so closeIcan inhale the scent of his skin. “AndIbrought you these.”

Hepulls open the top of the green bundle and hands it to me.

It’sa bunch of flowers.Oris it?They’resort of like red roses.Butthey’re weird.

Mybrain’s already on the spin cycle from all this, and it’s having trouble processing whatI’mlooking at.

Ihold up the bunch and examine it from a different angle. “Oh!”

Hesmiles and nods as more tears spill down my face.

“Tomatoflowers?”Iexclaim. “Youhad someone make tomato flowers?!”

Henods like it was nothing. “Turnsout, the chef atWalker’spub inBrooklynis a master tomato carver.Well, at least, he used to work at a fancy restaurant where he learned to cut vegetables into all sorts of shapes.”

“Ican’t believe it.”

“Hewas up half the night doing it.AndIwas up half the night watching him.Andyou wouldn’t believe the shenanigansIhad keeping them safe on the plane.Theflight attendant wanted to stow them, butItold herIdidn’t charter a private plane just so my tomato flowers could be squished.”

Hedid what? “Youcame on a private plane?”

“It’squickest.AndIcouldn’t wait another second.Anyway,Itold her ifIcouldn’t keep them on my lap for takeoff, she had to put them somewhere extremely safe.”Hepeers over the top of the wrapping. “Theyjust about made it okay.”

“Well, that one is a little worse for wear.Oh, and that one is too.”

AuntJenappears by my side and takes them from my hand. “Forthe love ofGod,Rose.Hetraveled all the way across the country cradling a bunch of tomato flowers that took all night to make.Givethe man a goddamn kiss.”