Page 83 of Never Been Worse

On the coffee table are two glasses of milk and two plates of six cookies, which is almost hidden by a giant pillow and blanket fort he built around it with the couch cushions. He found, or maybe he bought, some twinkle lights and lined the fort he made with it, making a magical little hideaway.

“Wes,” I whisper, looking and stepping closer. There’s actually astructureto this, and I look over my shoulder at him. He’s blushing now.

“I bought this kit to make forts last week because I got an ad for it and it sounded fun. We’ve both been so busy, I haven’t had time to do a little indoor date, but today is the perfect chance. I figured you’d enjoy movies and cookies more than a fancy dinner out, though anytime you want, I'll make a reservation at Trattoria Seven, and we’ll be there,” he says of the famous Italian restaurant in Hudson City.

A tear trails down my face at his gesture.Thisis why I have fallen for Wes Holden. He knows me so well, constantly taking notes of what I like or don't like. It’s something I’ve never experienced and hope I never lose.

“No, no,” he says, shaking his head. “Don’t cry. This is supposed to be fun,” he says with a laugh, pulling me into his arms.

“It is. It’s so fun, Wes. I just…no one’s ever done something like this for me.”

He smiles with understanding before taking my hand.

“Let me show you around. So here are a bunch of cookies, and we both have a plate. Some of them are baked from your favorite dough, and some I bought today.” He tossed a few items in the cart today, and I didn’t really pay attention, but now I wonder if maybe I should have. “And I found this little rating sheet, so we can decide which we like best. And inside, we have giant pillow chairs, but we can also merge them to lay together.

“Yes, that option,” I whisper with a nod, and he laughs.

“All right. And I’ve gotBeauty and the Beastqueued up, since I've never seen it, but we can watch?—”

“You want to watchBeauty and the Beast?”

“You said it was a classic and one of your favorites.”

“It is.”

“Then I want to watch it.” I open my mouth, but he shakes his head. “It’s as simple as that, Harper: if you want it, I want to make it happen for you.”

“Wes,” I whisper, emotions clogging up my throat.

“No, because if you cry, it might make your stomach hurt, and I want to eat cookies. Get in the fort, baby.”

I smile at him through watery eyes. For a moment, I think about arguing, but then I say fuck it, shrug, then bend and snuggle into the pillows, ready for what might just be the most romantic date of all time.

“Okay, I see it now,” he says, pausing the movie later right when the Beast shows the library to Belle.

“Right?” I ask. “This is exactly how it felt when you were showing me the design room.”

He smiles then presses his lips to my hair. “You definitely had that silly, shocked look on your face,” he says with a laugh.

I smack him in the arm, then resettle into his side.

“Sorry today was boring,” I say quietly as Gaston falls off the side of the building in the movie.

“What?” he asks, turning to look at me, but I keep my eyes on the screen.

“Today. Reset days are monotone, but you’re…you. Boring isn’t really in your vocabulary. Next time, I can do it myself. Like you said, I can do it some other day when you’re practicing or something, or?—”

“Hey, hey. Look at me, Harper,” he says, and when I do, there’s nothing there, no mask, no lie, just Wes smiling at me. “This was the best Sunday I’ve ever had. Period, Harper. I wouldn’t change it at all.”

“But—” I start, because he’s clearly just being nice, but he shakes his head at me.

“But nothing. Part of being with someone is doing what they like, right?”

“I…I guess?”

“Today was a good day. Anusday. We won’t always have these. Sometimes I'll be on the road, or you’ll be designing late or prepping for some big fashion show.” I roll my eyes, but he shakes his head, holding my chin so I can’t look away. “But I’ll always wish I had this, every damn night. The simplicity of justbeingwith you. I told you I missed the morning after. I missednormal. Someone, a partner, treating me like just that: a partner. A teammate. Someone who helps with the dishes and the grocery shopping and the cooking even though I’m shit at it.”

“I’m shit at it too,” I whisper with a laugh.

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