Page 37 of Secret Pucking Unicorn

“Of course. I’d love to.” It’s amazing the different expressions a pair of raised eyebrows can make. Before, they were saying, “Okay, fine, I’ll go along with it.” Now, they are saying, “Oh, hell no.”

My eyebrows aren’t as chatty, but my eyes are telling him, “Suck it up, Buttercup. It’s a dance, and he’s my best friend.”

His eye roll and sigh say it all—fine, go ahead, but you’re dancing with me too.

I can’t wait.

16

DECLAN

Holding Miranda’s hand, looking into her smiling face and happy gray eyes, with our friends cheering us on, is like a glimpse into the future I desperately dream of. I can picture us at the altar, exchanging vows to love and honor each other until death do we part, our family and friends watching. It’s what I’ve wanted since I was a teenager and realized she is more to me than my sister’s best friend. She is my world. I kept my promise not to pursue her until she finished college, and I didn’t interfere with her going to New Zealand. I trusted the universe would bring us back together when it was the right time. That time is now. She’s meant to be mine, and tonight is the night to tell her how I feel. The new year is going to be the start of our forever.

My wolf wants to howl watching Carter and Miranda dance to a fast song. It’s like a mishmash of a jive and a swing dance. They dance well together. I’m sure doing something choreographed would be incredible if this is what they can improvise. I know she’s a wonderful dancer. We’ve danced together countless times. Most of it was as kids when my mother was teaching us all how to ballroom dance. We can all do the basics. My sister Sophie and her twin, Ian, stuck with it to make it a profession and follow in Ma’s dance shoes.

I approach the stand and slip the bandleader some cash to play a request. I’ve been patient. It’s my turn to dance with Miranda and I don’t plan on ever letting her go.

Their song ends and I approach them.

“My turn,” I say, extending my hand. The tingle when Miranda takes it races up my arm directly to my heart.

“Hi,” she says when I take her into my arms as the first strands of the band’s cover version of “Perfect” by Ed Sheeran come from the stage.

“Hello.” I lower my head to place my lips at her ear. I can do the fancy spins and turns Carter did, but all I want to do is hold Miranda close to me and relish her body against mine. Humming along with the song as we sway, I echo the line about her looking beautiful tonight. She shivers, but the way her breath hitches tells me it’s not from being cold.

“It’s like this song is about us,” I murmur.

“Wha…what?” She stutters, and I think she’s holding her breath.

Okay, Declan, it’s now or never.

“We were kids torn apart, but now we’re together again.”

Her hair brushes my cheek as she nods.

“And I love you.”

Her breath comes out in a whoosh that tickles my neck. She turns her head, and we are face to face, inches apart.

“You do?” she whispers. Her beautiful gray eyes are wide in shock.

“I do.” I do. I can’t wait to say those words for real someday, to bind our lives together like our fates already are. “I have loved you for years. I’ve been waiting for you to come back to me.”

Her grin splits open wide, and her hands on my shoulders tighten, as if she never wants to let me go. “I love you too. I always have.”

We stare at each other. Holy shit. I lower my face and finally, finally, kiss her. This is something I’ve been wanting to do for almost a decade. Her lips are soft against mine and she is trembling. Or maybe I am. I know it’s an innocent peck to anyone else, no tongue, no roaming hands, but to me this is a fantasy come true. I could do this for the rest of the night—the rest of my life—but I don’t want an audience.

Reluctantly, I pull back. My brain is so muddled, I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “Stay or go?”

“Go,” she says.

“Upstairs or home?”

“Home.”

“Need anything?”

“You.”

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