He keeps one hand on my lower back and brings another up to wrap around my neck, to tilt my head back so he has a full view of me.

“Do you know I still have one of your roses?” he asks. “One you left for me on the dock.”

I shake my head, fighting against the rising tide of emotion. I don’t want to cry here on the dance floor.

“I admit, I didn’t preserve it well. I was a teenage boy who thought sticking it in a shoe box for a few years would do the trick. I’m surprised it hasn’t crumbled by now.”

He studies my face, seeing everything I’m too overwhelmed to conceal, including unabashed love, I’m sure.

“Did you ever wonder why I went down to the lake every night to swim?” he asks.

I knit my brows as I consider those nights so many years ago. I had it worked out, or at least I thought I did. “I assumed you needed the escape, the freedom, the same way I did. Swimming like that helped you quiet your mind.”

“You’re right, that’s true…though there were quite a few nights where it went a bit deeper than that.” His solemn voice almost scares me. “Times where it was my only means of survival. Swimming night after night…it kept me going during a time when I felt I had very little to live for. So when that first rose just appeared on the dock—an angelic white one, no less—I took it as a sign. It felt like a real beacon of hope.”

His forehead wrinkles with emotion. “Do you understand what I’m trying to say? What you unknowingly did for me with those roses?”

I nod, but it’s too difficult to speak.

His head tips down until his forehead touches mine. I squeeze my eyes closed, but still, a tear slips out.

“I love you, Lainey. I didn’t realize it was you at the time, but I owe you for being my guardian angel all those years ago. If nothing else, I’m at least glad you know that.”

My hand tightens on his bicep as if I’m worried now that he’s said that, he’ll slip away.

I’m so desperate to keep him.

“Where do we go from here?” I ask.

He doesn’t seem relieved by the question. His features haven’t relaxed. He’s as worried as I am.

“I don’t know. Should I ask you to come home with me for tonight or to move in? Should I ask you to be my girlfriend or my fiancée? I know what I want, and I can’t take it slow.”

I’m trembling, and I’m sure he can hear it in my voice. “How about we only worry about tonight? Or maybe not even that far? Maybe just our next step?”

“Okay. Do you think your grandmother would mind if I stole you away?”

He’s already starting to lead me off the dance floor.

“No.”

“Then, let’s go.”