Lost in Love (The Miss Apple Pants series Book 2)
Page 25
I held up my shaky hand to stop him. “Can I say something, or ask something now?”
“Of course, I’ll shut up now.” He looked down at his hands. Even though he had let go of my hand, I could still feel the warmth of his touch.
“Why now? Why are you telling me all this now?”
He leaned back on the bench and looked up at the string lights. “It was actually Eleanor, that little shit. We were looking at the picture of you and Alfred, from two days ago, I think, and she looked at me and said, ‘I think it’s about time.’ I asked her ‘For what?’ She said, ‘To tell her that you love her.’ She traced a finger around the edges of your face and it was like I had been hit with a truck when I suddenly realized I had to tell you. I realized how I had spent all these days and months dating all those women, one crazier than the other, when all I was doing was trying to prove to myself that I wasn’t in love with you. I didn’t want to be in love with you, because of the big age difference, but I was only fooling myself. ‘Cause every time I look at you, my heart skips a beat, my mouth runs all dry, and I’m at a loss for the right words to say. I just ramble.” He moved closer and grabbed onto my hand again.
I swallowed hard and looked down at our hands knitted together. He had just described how I had felt, too, all those nights we had spent together, trying to convince myself that I didn’t feel that way too, but I did. I knew every inch of him, too. I secretly loved every inch of him, too. Eleanor had even joked about it the time we had set up his Tinder profile, but looking back now, her words suddenly had a different meaning.
“You think you could help me set up an account for Dad?” she had asked, moving the curser over a woman with big blond hair and a lot of lip liner.
“Sure,” I had said, not really wanting to, but what was I supposed to say—“I won’t because I don’t really want him to date, to love someone else?”
“You know him better than anyone, even better than me. Besides, you’re a woman, too, and you know what women like.”
It had taken me less than five minutes to write his profile, and when I was done, Eleanor stared at screen. “You sure make him sound adorable. Anyone would be a fool not to have him, don’t you agree?” She looked at me with such hope in her eyes, not so much that her dad would start dating again, but that, perhaps he would date me?
I shook the memory from my head as I returned to the present and asked, “She really said that? How did she…”
“She said she just knew. And then she told me to go tell you. I almost chickened out, until I saw that photo.” He held my hand tighter and looked straight into my eyes. “I have to ask you. Is there any way you could ever lo—”
“—I thought you said you knew every inch of me. Is every inch of me not sitting here, holding your hand on this bench? And didn’t you just brag about how you can always tell when I’m about to cry—on the dot?”
“—Yes, but I…” A soft smile spread over his lips when he saw a tear slip loose down my cheek. “But this time, I’m not sure why you’re crying.” He reached up and wiped the tear away. “Whether this is a happy or sad ending?”
“Well, do I always pick movies with a sad or happy ending?” I asked, as I felt a few more tears fall down my face.
“Happy,” he whispered. “The ones where they kiss and make up by the time the closed captioning comes on.”
“Uh-huh.” With the mentioning of the word kiss, my spine stiffened, and I believe I stopped breathing.
“Well, can I?” His face was so close to mine now that I could feel his breath on my cheek.
I swallowed hard and nodded.
“Oh God. I can’t promise I won’t pass out.” He grabbed my face between his hands and brushed his lips softly against mine. “Man, I’ve been wanting to kiss you for so, so long I might get it all wrong. It feels like I’m about to kiss a girl for the first time.”
I smiled and closed my eyes. I felt the exact same way. “Just kiss me already.”
I’m not sure how long the kiss lasted, it could’ve been anywhere between a minute and ten, but it did feel like my first kiss ever too. It also felt like someone had pulled a warm and fuzzy blanket over my insides.
When he finally let go of my face, we just sat back on the bench in silence.
“I feel I should say something right now, but I’m at a loss for words.”
“Me too.” I leaned my face against his and nodded. “Maybe it’s because you finally stopped rambling,” I teased.
“Ha ha ha. Never short of a smart remark.” He lifted my chin up and gave me another soft kiss on my hungry lips. “I only have three words left for you.” He cleared his throat, and, with a tender voice, he whispered, “I love you, Eleanor Rigby Jensen.”
“I love you too, Thomas Jensen.” God, it felt both so wonderful and weird to say it out loud. But every fiber in my body agreed with every single word. I loved him. And he loved me. We had both defied our fear of the big age gap and had followed our hearts, all the way to Liverpool. Martha was right. Love truly was age blind.
I looked up at the string lights and took a deep breath and that’s when I suddenly heard it. “You hear it?”
“What?”
“Listen.” We both sat perfectly still and listened.
“Yes, I hear it now. It sounds like someone singing, or more correctly, yelling.” He smiled and nodded toward the restaurant. “It’s coming from in there.”
I sat up straight and faced the French doors but even before I could see them, I already knew: it was Mom and the kids singing, probably accompanied by some form of silly dancing.
“What are they doing?” Thomas whispered, looking over my shoulder and that’s when I saw them. It was not only Mom and the kids dancing and singing but Mrs. Rockefeller and Aaron too. They had all formed a human snake and were dancing across the marble floor, maneuvering between chairs and serving tables.
“OMG. Look at them. They’re fucking crazy.”
“They most certainly are. I like it. What are they singing?”
I couldn’t quite recognize the melody at first, since it sounded like they were all singing at their own pace and in different keys all together but I, still, I had a pretty good feeling about which song it was.
“I think I know what it is, but your guess is as good as mine. You heard Mom: Martha raised her son well. You know your Beatles songs pretty well too.”
He was about to say something when suddenly his face split into a big silly smile. “Is it, ‘She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah’?” His singing was even worse than he had let on but, of course, it only made him even more adorable.
“My guess too.”
He grabbed my waist and pulled me onto his lap. “How ‘bout we just hang out here for a few more days? This hotel is so ‘cheerful’ to quote an old lady’s words in one of her latest Facebook posts, and I think it deserves us for a few more days.”
“What about Eleanor?”
“She fell in love with a horse named Pinky Promise. She’ll be busy for a few days, but I’ll pick her up the minute she calls me. Can I stay here for a few days, with you?” He leaned down and brushed his lips against my neck, leaving me almost breathless.
“Well, if you don’t mind staying in a room with a bunch of crazy people.” I nodded toward the French doors and smiled.
“Well, it beats hanging out with a bunch of lonely people on a bench somewhere in Liverpool. Wasn’t that how you once put it?” I could hear the smile in his voice.
“I did.” I scooted back a little and looked up at him. “Did you really restore that wobbly old bench for me?”
He nodded, and I noticed a vulnerable look on his face I had never seen before. “It even has an engravement on it, on the bottom of it where no one can see it.” He looked nervous all of a sudden.
“Wh-ha-at does it say?”
“It says, ‘Mrs. Eleanor R. Jensen a.k.a Miss Apple Pants.’” He looked down at his feet, his face almost as red as his recycled Converse shoes.
“Mrs.?” What was he saying?
“Well, I’m sure I can find a suitable Beatles song to elaborate on that in the near future, but for now I say we just kiss some more. We have a few years and a million kisses to make up for, so we’d better get going.”
“A million and two,” I added before I surrendered myself, my lips (and the million and two butterflies in my stomach) to Thomas—on a bench, in Liverpool, where two lonely hearts were finally beating together as one.
THE END
Table of Contents
CHAPTER 1
Ticket to ride
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CHAPTER 2
Beats me
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CHAPTER 3
A day in the life
CHAPTER 3
Merde
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CHAPTER 4
The swearing jar/pig
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CHAPTER 5
Gluten free on steroids
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CHAPTER 6
The not so big surprise party
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CHAPTER 7
Bridge over troubled water
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CHAPTER 8
The real surprise
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CHAPTER 9
A tower of suitcases
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CHAPTER 10
Mrs. Rockefeller
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CHAPTER 11
Pot pies
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CHAPTER 12
Sandwiches and sentences
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CHAPTER 13
Berlin
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CHAPTER 14
Collective sadness
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CHAPTER 15
“Who?”
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CHAPTER 16
All you need is love
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CHAPTER 17
Eleanor Rigby
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CHAPTER 18
Hello, Goodbye