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No, I’d never had a mine. Until right the fuck now. She was still staring at me. Go ahead, princess, stare all you want.
If she wanted to flirt with someone, she could flirt with me.
Aviva. It was the perfect name for her. The three syllables settled themselves deep in my chest and made a home there.
“You want it rough?” She glared. “Don’t kiss me like you like me.”
“Oh, princess. I don’t like you. I like watching the Winter Olympics. I like my Classics advisor. Like is too gentle of a word for how I feel about you.”
“I hate how much I want you. How I can’t get you out of my head. How you’ve burrowed so deep inside my skin, I’m worried I’ll never get you out. I hate that when you do let me go, you’ll still haunt me forever, and I hate how much I’ll always wish you’d kept me.”
“I’m not playing this game with you anymore, where you pull away and I retaliate. We’re together now, and whether you come home with me or I sneak into your bedroom again, I’m going to bed with you and waking up with you.
“No, I mean, do you see us. See how well we fit together. How right we look together. How much we are meant for each other.”
“Jack, put me down.” “I like carrying you like this,” he said. “It’s good practice for our wedding.”
“I don’t know if you know how much I love you,” I said, quietly, solemnly. “I don’t even have words for it. I don’t think there are words for it. I love you fiercely, obsessively, relentlessly. I love you in my heart, mind, soul, in my fucking bones, until the day I die, and then I’ll love you still. There’s no heaven or hell for me, little fury—just you, forever.”
“Do you love me?” “Of course I do.” “Then marry me.” “Fine,” she grumbled. “As if you’re giving me a choice.” I smiled and bent my head to kiss her hair. “I’m not.”
