He frowns in classic Grumptopus style, and I laugh, reaching out to grip his shirt and tug him in even closer to me, our hands still clasped between us.

“I’m just kidding! Well, kind of. You really won’t be winning any Grammys, but it was the most amazing thing I’ve ever heard. That’s one of my favorite Skyler James songs. How did you know?”

His free hand comes around to my waist. “May picked it out. And helped recruit people and organize everything.”

Of course. God, I love my fucking daughter. I totally forgive her for scaring the crap out of me with that bogus phone call.

He lets go of my hand, and I almost whine at the loss, but then he reaches up to cradle my face. “I really am sorry. I was an idiot. But I need you to know that I want to be with you. You make my life better. You always have. And if you feel the same about me, then I promise I’ll do everything I can to keep that gorgeous smile on your face every day. I’ll always be there for you, for whatever you need. And May too, obviously. I love you.”

I open my mouth to tell him that I love him too. Because boy, I fucking do. But then I remember.

“What about your dad?” I ask cautiously, not wanting to ruin this but needing to know how it’s going to work.

Then it hits me that this wonderful grand gesture he just did for me was extremely public, and there’s absolutely no way his dad won’t find out about it. I glance around us, panicking, but he gently takes me by the chin and guides my eyes back to his.

“He was out there somewhere,” he says.

“Wait, your dad was dancing?” I ask incredulously. “I didn’t see him.”

He snorts. “Oh hell, no. He was just watching. And I already came out to him two days ago.”

I gasp. “You did? For me?”

“Well, yeah. But it was also something I needed to do for me.” He chuckles. “Turns out, he already knew. Apparently, I was the clueless one, not him.”

I’m trying to wrap my brain around what he’s saying, but at this point, I’m so overwhelmed. Did the town really just do a flash mob? Did Travis really sing like a frog? He came out to his dad after spending half his life hiding who he was? Or thinking he was hiding it, I guess.

Did Travis Reed actually tell me he loves me?

Oh, shit. I didn’t say it back.

“I love you!” I blurt out frantically. Probably too loudly. Because I don’t want him to take it back.

“Thank god,” he says, much quieter. And then he kisses me.

It’s not brief, not chaste.