We are an us, right?” When she says us, she peeks up at me from under thick lashes, shyly. I blink at her, scanning her face for some sign that she might be joking. Because in what universe does this woman want me to be an us with her. I literally shake my head and count my lucky fucking stars. And then I kiss her hard, hold her to me tight, and show her how badly I want to be an us. “We are definitely an us.”
