Page 46

Shut Up and Kiss Me

Ricky holds his hand out to me, and my heart beats so fast I may pass out.

When I don’t immediately take it—because why should I after everything he’s put me through; boy owes me at least some sort of explanation!—he starts talking in Italian to the captain of the gozzo, asking for a few minutes alone. (God, that’s hot.)

He turns back to me and takes a breath like the weight of the world is off his shoulders, and, well, isn’t that presumptuous?

“I love you,” Ricky finally says, and it tumbles out louder than even he anticipates, like a foghorn amplified across the water, and I wince.

He starts laughing despite himself. “I love you.” He sighs.

“That feels good. I mean, obviously, I love you, I’ve loved you my whole life, I’ve said it a million times, but I haven’t since before, you know, and I’ve wanted to so many times, but—”

“Now who’s rambling?” I say, so calmly it clearly unnerves him.

“You’re enjoying this.”

“Yes.” I wave him on. “Continue.”

He chuckles. “You’re my safe place, Fielder Lemon.

You never take from me, or expect anything.

You only add to me. I’m not choosing you.

I’m choosing myself. And choosing me means allowing myself to listen to what I really need.

Be a little less practical. Listen to my heart.

Take risks, like you do. To trust you, and us. ”

It’s everything I ever wanted. Why isn’t it enough? “How do I know you won’t break my heart again?”

He shakes his head. “You don’t.” He holds his hand out again. “Just like I don’t know that this will work, but I know I love you and I can’t live without you.”

I sigh.

“What?” he asks.

“I used to think the same thing, that I couldn’t live without you,” I say. “But I realized I could.” I watch as his smile fades. “I mean, I don’t want to. But I know I can.”

This time I take his hands and hold tight to them.

He gets down on one knee.

“Ricky.” My eyes go wide. “What are you doing?”

The captain of the gozzo whistles through his fingers.

“Get. Up! I’m not marrying you.”

“Wait, what?” His hands drop. “No! I mean, what? I’m not, I mean, no—” He stammers. “I-I wasn’t asking you to marry me! I just thought it’d be romantic as hell to—” A laugh erupts from deep within him.

Dear reader, when I tell you my ass nearly fell out of my body.

We both keel over laughing.

When we catch our breath, Ricky says, “No, I was going to officially ask you to be my boyfriend. I know we have a lot to talk about, though. And you deserve answers to every question you have.”

“Go on.” I wait. “Feel free to get back on one knee. For good measure.”

He smirks. “I should have talked to you the billion times I had the chance to. I was thick. Thinking too much. It wasn’t ever because I didn’t love you or that you weren’t enough.

I felt like I was holding you back. I thought if we stayed together, you’d resent me, or I’d resent you, and maybe that would have happened, or it wouldn’t have, but I was wrong because I never gave you the chance to talk it through with me.

I was scared. Reconnecting with you this week has been like falling in love all over again, but different.

I realized I needed to re-meet you, and it made me second-guess everything because how could someone as amazing as you love me after everything I put you through?

What I’m trying to say is that I’m sorry, Fielder.

I could spend my entire life trying to make it up to you, but it still wouldn’t be enough. But I will try, if you’ll allow me.”

I crouch down to meet him. “It’s been nice to re-meet you, Ricky DeLuca.”

Every nerve ending in my body is alight as I move closer to his lips.

My chest flutters.

Breath is staggered.

Ricky bridges the gap between us—or, at least, attempts to because I stop him.

“I set up my own surprise, didn’t I? Topher and Sienna aren’t coming, are they?”

He shakes his head, telling me how he, Benny, and Matty(!) went to Topher this morning and they all plotted to make this happen, remembering how we used to love stargazing together, hoping this would replace our last night together, before the Great Commencement Massacre.

Dear reader, when I tell you I’m both gooped and gagged, tired and impressed, I start maniacally laughing, and he finally kisses me to shut me up.

Somebody had to.