Page 64 of The Way I Am Now
“I wasn’t trying to—you’re just very focused.”
She looks both ways before reaching out to pull me closer and leans down to kiss me. “So this is what it feels like to be tall,” she muses, still standing on the stool and a full two inches taller than me. “It’s a whole different world up here.”
“Want me to start carrying around a stool for you everywhere we go?” I ask.
“Why do I think you’re not entirely joking?”
“Hey, if you really wanted that, you know I would do it.” I hold her hands as she steps down and pull her in for a hug. “Hungry?” I ask.
She nods and checks again to be sure no one will see us, as we go to the end of the aisle and make our way to our corner table, which is hidden from view. As I unpack our sandwiches, she leans her head on my shoulder and groans, “I wish we could go home and lie in bed all day.”
“So do I,” I sigh. “You were out cold this morning. How late did you stay up last night?”
“I don’t know,” she says, rubbing her eyes. “I had a lot of reading to catch up on.”
I touch her face; she has these dark circles under her eyes. “Baby, you look so tired.”
“It’s okay, I can sleep in tomorrow; I don’t have to be at the café until the afternoon. Still on for date night tonight, right?” she asks.
“Definitely,” I tell her. “Practice ends at six, but if I hurry I can probably be home by like six forty-five-ish.”
“You don’t have to rush,” she says, covering her mouth as she takes a bite of her sandwich. “Our reservation isn’t until eight.”
“Reservation? Fancy.” I wait a beat, try to judge her mood a little better. “Are you proposing?”
She coughs and widens her eyes at me. “It’s notthatfancy.”
I laugh. But if she were, I’d totally say yes.
“You’re insane, you know that?” she says with a grin.
“Me? You’re the one proposing after one month,” I joke.
“Let’s at least get it straight; it’s more like three years.”
“So, youareproposing?”
She shakes her head, trying not to laugh. “Oh my God, you’re ridiculous.”
I nudge her shoulder with mine. “You love it.”
She nods. “Mm-hmm. You’re right, I do.”
We’re kissing when someone clears their throat.
“Oh,” Eden says. “Hey.”
“Uh, sorry.” A boy who looks too young to be in college is standing there—I can see he has the same work-study ID badge Eden has. “We need some help downstairs at the circulation desk.”
“Sure, yeah. Sorry. I was just taking a quick break.”
He shrugs and shuffles back down the aisle.
She stands and takes one more bite before wrapping up the second half of her sandwich, trying to stuff it in the pocket of her hoodie. “Obvious?” she asks.
“No,” I lie. “Just make sure you finish that at some point.”
“I will.” She squeezes my hand before walking away, turning around to whisper-shout, “I’m picking you up at seven forty-five— don’t forget.”
