Page 127 of Ripped & Shipped
“Trust me, it’s good. I love my shoes—but I extra-love those Jimmy Choos. But seriously, Chris. I honestly have never felt like this before for anyone.”
“I know. I feel it too.”
“You’re the bright spot in the middle of a whole lot of not-so-bright things right now.”
I pause, tilting my head up to see if I just freaked him out. He’s steady as ever, looking down at me.
“No pressure,” I joke.
“I thrive under pressure,” he assures me. “Bring it.”
Then he asks, “What if I have something big to say to you?”
“Are you moving?” I ask, mostly joking, but secretly freaking out when the thought occurs to me.
“No. Not moving.”
“Pregnant?”
“That would be Shannon.”
“You got a promotion?”
“Boots … Ella Mae …”
He shifts, sitting up and taking me up with him. He makes sure I can see his face, cupping my jaw and flicking his eyes between mine like he’s searching for something—I sure hope he finds it.
“I love you,” he says.
Then he leans in and kisses me before I get a chance to answer him. His kiss is tender and warm. But it ramps up in no time. Oh, yeah. He loves me alright. I kiss him with my mouth, but more so with my heart. My kiss says,I love you too. You’re everything. How can you be so good and be mine? I want to keep you forever.We lay there kissing until the darkness closes in around us and the stars start to smatter the sky overhead.
When we come up for air, I look at his muted features in the darkness. “I love you too, Chris.”
“You do?”
“Yes. I love you so much it hurts.”
“It’s not the love that hurts,” he says, running his hand up and down my back in soothing strokes.
“It’s not?”
“No. It’s the fear. And I feel it too. This is so good. What if we don’t get to keep it?”
“Are you a psychic?”
“Nope. Just a man who watches people and pays attention. And I know when you’re freaking out. But you don’t have to. I’m not going anywhere.”
But I might. How do I tell him I can’t take this town much longer? Even with him in it, I can’t be the pariah. It’s like every day I’m trying to climb up a hill, while people at the top kick dirt down toward me. I need to be able to live where people don’t think of me asthatElla Mae.
So many things feel uncertain right now. If I’m honest, even creating online content feels flat. I need a boost, or maybe a complete change of pace. But what?
Chris settles back onto the truck bed, then he pulls me down with him, so my head is on his chest and his arm is wrapped around me. We stare up at the stars, his heartbeat steady beneath me.
“Can I tell you something?” I ask.
“Anything.”
“I’m afraid of losing my fame.” He’s silent, so I spill the rest. “I mean, what am I if I’m not Fab-U-lous Ella Mae?”
