Written in the Stars(99)
Each time she said it, she believed it a little more, and a little more. This time, she believed it all the way, believed it the way she believed in the stars, and the moon. Elle believed in herself, and no matter how much she wanted Darcy—which was an absurd amount—loving herself was no mere consolation prize.
Darcy’s throat worked through several convulsions, and she nodded. “You do. You do deserve that, Elle.”
Elle sniffed and jerked her chin, curiosity finally getting the best of her. “And by the way, I can’t take care of plants. I have the opposite of a green thumb. So . . .”
Might as well be totally honest. What else did she have to lose that she hadn’t already lost?
Darcy stared down at the plant, laughing wryly. “I should’ve asked Brendon for his advice after all. Grand gestures aren’t exactly my forte. And I’m bad at saying something. But it doesn’t have anything to do with you. It’s me. I was scared.” Darcy shut her eyes and rolled her lips together. A pink flush worked its way up her face, turning her nose and the skin beneath her eyes red. When she opened her eyes and lifted her head, the bloodshot look of desperation in her glassy eyes snatched Elle’s breath.
“I was terrified. I’d gotten my heart broken once before and it scared me because I’d watched my mom fall apart and suddenly, I was the one falling apart and I never wanted to put myself in a position where that would happen again. I moved to Seattle and promised I wouldn’t let that happen. Falling in love was the last thing I wanted, but then you came into my life and somewhere along the way what I felt for you was more, so much bigger than I’d ever felt for anyone else. Bigger than I felt for the person I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with. One month, Elle. One month and I was—” Darcy pressed the back of her hand against her mouth. “I fell for you and it scared me because, what if I lost you? What if something happened? What if you broke my heart?” Darcy turned her head to the side and blinked fast, lashes fluttering like butterfly wings. “I was scared of losing you and I was equally as afraid of getting to keep you, because how much worse would it hurt if I lost you later? I said nothing and I lost you anyway.”
Darcy lifted the potted plant in front of her. “It’s cilantro. Because I’ve liked you for longer than I knew how to say, before I could say it. Before I could say it the way you deserve to hear it. But I have and I do. I like you exactly the way you are, Elle. Boxed wine and glitter and astrology and most of all”—Darcy sucked in a gasping breath—“I love the way you make me hope. You make me hope and you make me happy. You make me so happy, Elle.”
Astrology involved a certain balance between prediction and manifestation, preparation and action. This though, Elle never could’ve seen this coming. This was too good to be true, even better because it was.
“Yeah?” she whispered, eyes wide and unblinking because if she blinked, she’d cry and she wanted to be able to see Darcy’s face, watch her, drink her in. Memorize this moment, a picture-perfect snapshot she’d cherish for the rest of her life, for as long as she could remember.
“I told you I didn’t know how I felt.” Darcy set the cilantro plant on the table between them and stood. She brushed her palms on her thighs, shoulders rising with her inhale. “I lied. I know how I feel and I’m five hundred percent certain that on a scale of one to ten, I want to be with you, exactly as you are, infinity.”
Elle pressed her fingers to her lips, both trembling. “Infinity? That’s . . . that’s a big number.”
And Darcy saying it was an even bigger deal.
Darcy rounded the table and reached out, grabbing Elle’s hand in hers. Darcy’s hand shook and something about that little tremor made Elle flush with warmth from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. Darcy cared enough that she was shaking, shaking like Elle. “Technically, infinity isn’t a real number. But what I feel for you? That’s real. It’s the realest thing I’ve ever felt, Elle.”
Thumb stroking the back of Elle’s hand, Darcy met her eyes. A spark. A connection, the kind that couldn’t be faked.
Elle pressed up on her toes and wrapped her free hand around the back of Darcy’s neck, smiling into the kiss. Champagne fizzing and shooting stars, fireworks and late nights riding in the back of a too-fast car, lights of the city whizzing past, the bridge of her favorite song blaring. None of it held a candle to this moment, this feeling burning in her veins and warming her chest, bubbling in her stomach and erupting goose bumps along her skin. Magic.
For the first time, Elle didn’t need a maybe, didn’t need to hope because she knew.
This was it.
Boom.
End game.
A lifetime of butterflies.
Acknowledgments
I count my lucky stars that I have so many amazing people in my life to thank. In this, words can’t do my appreciation justice, but I’ll give it my best.
Sarah Younger, oh my gosh, thank you for seeing something in my writing worth taking a chance on. I’m so beyond grateful to have you in my corner during this roller coaster of a journey. You are a rock star and the best agent anyone could dream of having and I am so thankful for everything you do. To my amazing editor, Nicole Fischer, and the entire team at Avon, thank you for taking a chance on this quirky, queer rom-com that is so near and dear to my heart. Thank you, thank you, thank you for believing in this book and helping make this dream of mine a reality.