Page 64 of The Hang Up
Love.
The second the word left her lips, he knew. He felt it deep in his chest like a white-hot ball of energy.
He was in love with Miriam Ashley.
Holy shit.
They walked in silence for a moment while Jason grappled with the realization. How the hell had this happened? He loved being around her, obviously. She was funny and beautiful and smart and kind and all the things he would have looked for in a partner if he’d been looking at all.
He hadn’t. Not one tiny bit. But love had gone and found him anyway, sneaking around his defenses like some sort of cupid ninja. He should feel annoyed, but instead he just felt happy. Giddy, really.
“I think we should date each other,” he blurted.
Miriam stumbled, apparently caught off guard. Jason held on to her hand, not letting her fall.
“Wow,” she said, clearly as stunned by his words as he’d been by the feelings. “We’re sleeping together,” she said slowly, glancing up at him. “We’re holding hands on a hike. Is that the sort of thing you mean by ‘dating’?”
“Kind of,” he said, not entirely sure what he meant. He just knew that he wanted to be with her. A lot.“I guess I mean dating seriously. Exclusively. Like in a real relationship.”
She fell quiet a moment, and Jason realized he was holding his breath. A little tricky, considering they’d reached an incline on the trail. He ordered himself to breathe again, but the tension stayed in his shoulders. What if she wasn’t interested? What if he’d read her wrong? What if?—
“Okay.” She turned her face up to grin at him. “Okay, let’s give it a shot.”
“Really?” His heart flooded his chest with something warm and liquid. “Wow, that was easier than I thought.”
She snorted. “It’s hardly easy. God knows I’m nervous about getting involved with a guy who likes to throw himself off mountains?—”
“I hardly ever throw myself off mountains.”
“—and go barreling through white-water rapids?—”
“I prefer a raft to a barrel.”
“—and cycling down a mountainside with no brakes?—”
“Brakes are overrated.” He squeezed her hand and grinned. “It’s a trade-off. You get a little anxiety from my daredevil habits, and I get the knowledge that you’ll always be judging my choice of neckties and utensils.”
She laughed and returned the hand squeeze. “Okay,” she said, sounding a little breathless. It might have been the exertion of the trail, but he didn’t think so. “A relationship. We’re really doing this.” She sounded both bewildered and excited, and the combination left him feeling a little dizzy.
“So you’re my girlfriend.”
She gave a rather unladylike snort, which only made him love her more. “Can we not use that word? It sounds so—middle school.”
“What do you want to be called? My lady friend?
Concubine? Schmoopie?”
“How about just Miriam? ‘I’m in a committed relationship with Miriam.’”
“I’m in a committed relationship with Miriam.” He liked the way that sounded. “Nice.”
“And I’m in a committed relationship with Jason.” She laughed. “God, that sounds cheesy.”
“But nice.”
“Yes. Very nice.”
They fell silent again, fingers intertwined, their footsteps muffled on the sodden trail coated with a thin blanket of pine needles. The scent of damp moss and wet earth filled his lungs to bursting. Or maybe that was his heart in his chest, all warm and solid and throbby while the birds chirped around them and a creek burbled in the distance.
