Page 360 of Seasons of Love
When that happens, there will be nothing between us. No more lies or misunderstandings.
I mouth at him, “I love you,” and his eyes fill with tears.
Please don’t run from me. I need you.
He keeps walking forward until he crashes into my arms. I wrap mine around him and hold tight. He’s not getting away from me anytime soon.
The music ends. He looks up at me.
“No. When you’re sixty-four, I will love you more than I love you today because even after all the heartache and the things we need to talk about, you’re still the only one I want.”
I cradle his face and kiss him.
In seconds, we’re surrounded by kids cheering, jumping, and clapping. It’s insanity.
When we part, Curtis’s cheeks are pink and his lips are red from me sucking on them.
“Go on, you’ve seen everything. You can go home,” I shout so everyone can hear.
“Go, Bubble!” the cheerleaders shout.
“It’s odd how they seem to have this weird vested interest in us being together,” I say, placing my hand on his chin and turning his face back to me.
“How did you put all of this together?” he asks.
“Justin helped. He’s a total enabler. My low-key surprise turned into a one hundred-people flash mob.”
I take his hand and pull him inside the building, locking the door behind us.
Curtis raises a brow but doesn’t ask questions.
His earthquake detection kits are still on the walls as we walk through the locker room, but it’s the office I want him to see.
“Are you ready for it?” I ask.
“Is there another band and more music?”
“No.”
“Magic Mike, but naked?” He wiggles his brows.
“What? No.”
He shrugs. “That’s okay. You can put on your own show for me.”
I open the door and let him through.
“You moved my desk?” He runs his hand over his desk, where it joins with mine. They’re side by side. His inspirational quotes have been moved so they cover the space behind both desks, and now I can see the paint on the wall.
“You belong next to me, Curtis. In every way possible.” I pick him up and place him on his desk, pushing his coat off his shoulders so I can get closer to him. “I’m sorry about Mel. Anything she said or implied wasn’t true. My mom was so angry when Mel said you’d dropped off a pie. She wanted to meet you.”
“Mel didn’t know who I was,” he says.
“No. That is true. But the polite thing to do would have been to invite you in.”
“Do you think she knew? That you maybe were with a guy.”
I shrug. “No, and it doesn’t matter. I came clean to my mom about what Mel did and the reason for our divorce. I will tell you the story later, but there’s something more important that I think you should know.”
