So I hold up the ring and say, "Because I want to, and I hope I didn't get this one wrong, because if I did, just tell me. I'll go back and—"

"I love it," she interjects.

"You do?" I question, just to make sure.

"Yes, it's perfect," she declares.

Happiness fills me. It's not arrogance like I often feel when I do something correctly. It's a genuine joy that I actually got something right that makes her happy.

I slide it on her finger, and her eyes dart between me and the ring. I want to kiss her. I move closer to her, but then I freeze an inch from her lips.

I don't need to push myself on her. I do it as often as I can in front of my family, and I don't know if she likes it or not. I think she likes kissing me, but I never know if it's just an act for my family or not. She's not let me kiss her when we've been alone since our date night.

I chicken out and retreat. I focus on the sky, wishing I knew the right way to act around her. It hits me how much I want her to like me. But not just like me as a person.

I want her to like me as a man.

Yet everything I've done is so backward. And I'm so far in, I don't know how to fix it or what I want from her going forward once this is over.

Can there even be anything once January 2nd hits?

She bites her lip, staring at me. I can feel it. Awkward silence mingles with tension and hangs in the air.

I release a stress-filled breath and then decide to put my cards on the table however they might fall. I turn toward her and say, "Georgia, I—"

She surprises me when she puts her fingers over my lips, then straddles my body. She cups my cheeks, gazing at me with her glistening eyes as if she's looking for my soul. She's never looked at me so intensely before, and it chokes me up. She leans closer and whispers, "Thank you."

I don't think I've ever felt so nervous in my life. I can barely reply, "You're welcome."

More silence grows between us, with our breath merging and our hearts pumping harder. I stay frozen, unable to make a move, scared that if I do that, this moment will end, and whatever's going on between us will be ruined.

Then she breaks the tension, softly pressing her lips to mine in the sweetest of kisses.

There's no more holding back. I'm a man, and she's the woman I need to have.

Nineteen

GEORGIA

Sebastian doesn't move when I first kiss him, making me think I shouldn't have been so forward. So I begin to retreat, but his hand slides into my hair and his other arm circles around me.