The Fall Up (The Fall Up #1)(69)

I had no idea how he’d found a picture of me on my hands and knees, but somehow, he had, and he’d placed me directly in front of him. If it hadn’t been for the rooster I appeared to be chasing from between his feet, it would have most definitely been X-rated.

Henry suddenly piped up behind me. “I’m going to need a copy of this book.”

“Consider it done,” Sam answered without hesitation.

The next page read: And that was when the princess began falling for the pauper.

I immediately recognized the picture as the first one he had ever sent me. Everyone around us began laughing, but warmth washed over me at the memory.

The following pages were the rest of the pictures he’d sent me while I had been in Maine. Each one was captioned with: And falling…

With each page, the group would laugh louder, pausing to point out something funny, like the random chickens Sam had hidden in background. I, however, couldn’t tear my eyes off him—in person or in the pictures. In Sam’s little story, I was the princess and he was the pauper, but in that moment, with his friends and family huddled around us, I realized he was the wealthy one. I was most definitely the pauper in our real story. I didn’t care though. I’d never been more proud to call someone mine in my entire life.

After several pages, the caption changed to: But the good news is he was falling for her too.

The following pages were brand-new images I’d never seen before.

And they were stunning. Not because I really looked great, but because they were pictures of us. Real pictures. It started with the selfie of us that had been taken outside the theater before we’d gone to see Fifty Shades of Grey just a few nights earlier, only Sam had transported us to the red carpet at what looked like the premiere, and he’d added a pair of handcuffs dangling off the wrist he had slung over my shoulder.

Ryan burst out laughing, throwing Sam a high five that got left hanging.

The next page read: And falling…

It was a picture of me sleeping, cuddled up in a ball on Sam’s bed. Only the side of his face was visible as he kissed my nose. My heart began to melt at something so sweet, but a laugh bubbled from my throat as I leaned in close, realizing he had added a trickle of drool coming from my mouth and a wet spot on my pillow.

My hand immediately snaked up and tweaked his nipple. I figured mine were safe since his mother was sitting beside me. But Sam didn’t hesitate before reaching down to pinch mine as well.

“Sam!” His mom swatted his arm, but he just shrugged, completely unfazed.

Laughing, I turned to the last page in the book, only to freeze when I took in the image in front of me. My heart began to race, and frenzied butterflies stampeded in my stomach.

I wasn’t in the last picture at all. It was just a picture of Sam in those same filthy clothes from the beginning, and he was standing in a jewelry store, handing over Sampson’s leash and a crate full of chickens in exchange for a huge diamond engagement ring.

His mom gasped.

But I had absolutely no air in my lungs. Was he proposing? It was way, way too soon, but the word yes wasn’t even teetering on the tip of my tongue. It was in the starting block, ready to fire from my lips the moment I opened my mouth.

The caption read: And, eventually, that pauper sold all of his meager possessions just to be able to afford to keep that princess forever.

As I slowly tipped my head up to look at him, another traitorous tear escaped my eye, giving Sam my answer to his unspoken question.

Smiling warmly, he lifted his thumb to my cheek, wiping the damp trail away before pressing it to my lips. Whispering, he said, “That’s what I thought. But I just wanted to check. Turn the page, Levee.”

I didn’t want to turn the page at all.

But, at the same time, I’d never in my life wanted something more.

I was terrified that he was just being rash. We had so much going on. So much more to overcome. He didn’t even know what it was like to really be with me. So far, we’d been living in a perfect little bubble of solitude. What if Sam didn’t like life in the limelight? What if he couldn’t trust me when the tabloids attempted to ruin us with rumors? We needed more time.

It’s too soon.

I was unquestionably going to say yes though.

And, for as long as I lived, I would never regret that yes.

I knew, from the depths of my soul, that Sam was the rest of my life. Everything else would fall into place.

We’d fall up together.

So, sucking in a deep breath, I turned the page.

Then I burst into full-on tears.

Jumping to my feet, I threw my arms around Sam’s neck as he held me tight against his body.

There was no proposal.

But there was definitely a promise.

And, in that moment, it was better than any ring he could have put on my finger.

There was no picture. It was only a white page with the words: To be continued. (In thirty days.) “Well, that was anticlimactic,” Henry deadpanned.

I was still holding Sam impossibly tight when Meg’s hand slap his shoulder as she said, “That was mean!”

It wasn’t mean.

It was us.

And, more than that, it added a whole other gear to my drive to get myself together over the next month.

It was the best gift he could have ever given me.

“I love you so much,” I murmured into his neck.