Page 74 of Next Time We'll Fall

“I know men sometimes surprise women, and they take them to houses, and they’re like,I bought this house for us.”

He bursts out laughing. “Oh my gosh, Juniper. Do I look crazy?”

“No comment.”

“I’m not crazy. Of course I didn’t buy us a house. We’re here to see someone.”

“Oh … phew.”

“You didn’t really think I’d bought you a house, did you?” he asks, his eyes searching mine. “Because if you really thought that, maybe you’re the crazy one.” But he pauses in a way that makes me realize that even if I was crazy, he’d still be here with me. Cos that’s Rafe. Always supportive. Always there.

“I didn’t really think it,” I say, giggling. “But it would’ve been kind of romantic.” I want to tell him that his acts of just being there for me are romantic as well, but I don’t. I don’t want him to think I’m in love with him or anything like that.

“It would’ve been certifiable,” he says. “Come on.”

“What are we doing here?”

“Do you know Mrs. Seymour?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Well, she has a dog, Sabrina, and Sabrina just had puppies.”

“Yay! Are we going to see puppies?”

He nods. “I’ve just come to check on them, but I thought you might enjoy meeting them as well. I know how much you love them.”

“I hate to admit this but that is so sweet. I do love puppies.”

“I can’t wait until I can get another dog … and maybe some cats … and birds.”

“You always did love pets,” he says. “At least you know if you’re dating me, you’ve got someone to take care of them for free.”

“You’ve never taken care of Lani for free.”

“Well, we weren’t dating then.”

“So, we’re dating now?” I ask.

“I guess I’m kind of rushing things a little.” He grins. “This is, I guess, our first date.”

“Yeah, honey, you’ve got to win me over on the first date before you make an assumption like that.” I start laughing, but my heart is soaring.

I don’t know where this is going, but I’m here for it. Rafe officially asked me on a date. I want to jump up and down. I never thought that this would ever happen. I need to pinch myself to ensure that I’m not dreaming. Am I dreaming?

He rings the doorbell, and we wait for Mrs. Seymour to answer. As we do, I just stare at him. Like I’m trying to memorize him for the rest of my life. Like some sort of creeper. Ugh, I hope he doesn’t notice.

“I have other plans, you know,” he says, looking at me. “It’s not just the puppies.”

“What do you mean?”

“I have dinner.”

“You have dinner plans?”

“Yeah.” He grins. “I have a picnic basket for us that I’m going to pick up in half an hour.”

“But wait … you just asked me on the date.”