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And I say the only thing that makes sense in my mind at that very moment. “Anything for you, My Queen.”
“Fake dating,” I clarify. He chuckles. “Where we fake hold hands. And you fake like me.” “You fake like me too,” I say. His eyes dart to me, and he squints with a grin. “Do I though?”
“Go,” he says. “I’m not Old Yeller.” “And I’m not shooting you.”
“What the hell are you doing?” she finally asks. “Something I should have done a long time ago.” Then, I cup her jaw in my hands, bend down, and kiss the ever-loving hell out of her.
“Yeah,” he says with a slow nod. “You make me panic. How are you surprised? I’m a mess for you.”
He brushes down the center of my chin before releasing me. And my chest is filled with something. Butterflies? Moths? Flesh-eating bacteria?
“I would wait forever for you,” he says.
