You're It

by Cleo White

For my neurospicy girls, who would totally buy a seven-foot-tall game-show wheel for fifty dollars if the opportunity presented itself.

“I’ve never wanted anyone like this. Only you. Last night, the thought of you with someone else”—my hold on her waist tightens—“wrecked me, baby. If you don’t feel the same, tell me to leave you alone. Tell me now, because the things I want to do to you aren’t decent, and once we start…” Once we start, I won’t be able to stop.

“Just to be clear.” His thumb strokes the delicate, translucent skin of my wrist, and goosebumps erupt all over my body. “I have feelings for you, I’m attracted to you, and I won’t pretend otherwise. Not anymore.”

It takes every ounce of control I possess to keep from dropping to my knees and telling her right now. I love you. I’m going to love you for the rest of my life.

Because I freaking know. I am going to marry that big, grumpy nerd and have his oversized, grumpy, nerdy babies (sorry vagina), and that’s that.

“No. No, Savvy. You are my safe space. You are my home—you are my fucking partner.”