Page 155 of Elevator Pitch

“Selah, why was your mom quizzing me about pinochle when I picked her up from the airport yesterday?”

I inquire, “She’s been in town since yesterday, and I’m just now finding out?”

“Don’t change the subject. She was fully aware of these plans and has been living lavishly atThe Woodwardsince I dropped her off. You do not want to see that bill.”

“Good for her.”

He continues, trying to hide his smile. “Back to my question. Why does she think I’m an expert pinochle player?”

“Umm—I may have mentioned that as a joke when she was accusing us of having sex and we weren’t.”

“When was this?”

“Thanksgiving. She saw how you looked at me, like you’d swallow me whole. Mama knew it was going to happen anyway and told me to call whenever it did. If I said ‘pinochle’ three times you were a good neighbor and just once if you were a bad one.”

“So, the whole time, it’s a code word. I was looking it up and hoping to impress her,” he says, shaking his head.

I can’t hold back my laughter, and he eventually joins me.

I bring my eyes to his with a thought. “Greyson, when did you know you loved me?” I ask with a shaky breath.

“I could ask you the same,” he challenges. “On the count of three?”

I nod. He keeps eye contact, holding my face in his hands. Tears fall down my cheeks, and his thumb swipes them away.

“One, two, three.”

“March eleventh,” we say in unison.

He takes my lips in a demanding kiss, capturing my moans, and I quickly remember we have a party we need to return to. When we come up for air, I remind him of that, and he lights up as if he has an idea.

“Dance with me.”

“There’s no music.”

“There’s always music,” he counters, holding up his phone.

He turns onLay It Downby Allen Stone.I place my hand in his and take his lead as we softly sway across the terrace. Meeting my gaze, he sighs contentedly as his free hand travels my bare back, stopping just before my ass.

He guides me across the terrace effortlessly and mouthsI love you, and I mouth it back. It’s funny, like we’re still adjusting to the words and how they sound out loud. I break our gaze for a moment to peer reluctantly at the night sky or lack thereof. It's darkness. with faint signs of light. I love living in Manhattan, but I really miss stargazing. It was something small that brought me joy on even the worst day.

On nights like these, I wish I could see the stars.

“Wishing we weren’t in New York right now so you could stargaze?”

Seriously, how does he do that?

“How’d you know?”

“A wise woman once told me, ‘Everything is obvious when you’re paying attention.’” He dramatically dips me, and my eyes widen. He smirks and pulls me up, resuming the slow dance. “To know what’s going on inside your head is a gift, an honor that I don’t take lightly,” he adds with a sweet kiss to my forehead.

The song changes, and we don’t stop moving. I could get lost on a dance floor with him for the rest of my life, and I hope I do. I’ll never know the time, allowing me to make the best of every moment.

“Don’t look, but everyone’s watching. Tissues are being passed around.”

I chuckle into his chest, and we keep on for one more song in front of our spectators. I eventually look up and see Mom and Chess crying. Audrey, Daya, and Eric are cheering, as expected. Rome, August, and Avery, the brothers I never had, stand there with soft smiles. If they cried, it would be in private. We head back inside to rejoin the party when Greyson stops me.

“Do you still hate surprises?” he asks.

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