“Sometimes. When I bought this house, I was most excited about having a real mailbox. Isn’t that stupid? I guess I thought having one meant I had a real home. But, since everything’s online, it’s always empty.”

“That’s not stupid,” Andrew said quietly.

They got out of the car, and she grabbed his hand, smiling up at him. “But my house won’t be empty tonight. I’m glad you’re here.”

She cooked fajitas, because he’d said it was his favorite food, imagining he might be able to feel the love she put into the meal’s preparation. She’d certainly felt his affection with the flowers that morning, and the several silly love-related puns he’d sent her in text messages throughout the day. And in every brush of his fingertips around her waist as she cooked.

Andrew coughed a few times during dinner, and she worried she’d made the meal a little too spicy, but he assured her it was perfect. He had two servings, so she figured it couldn’t have been too awful.

Instead of a movie they watched a documentary about the Seven Wonders of the World—not romantic by any means, but perfect for them. They watched it in her bedroom, side by side on her bed, her head on his chest. Toward the end of the film, Lauren registered Andrew’s breathing had sped up. She lifted her head. “You okay?”

He smiled. “I’m good. I was just thinking about how pretty you are in pink and wondering how much longer this damn documentary was going to last before I could do this.”

He pulled her on top of him, her legs straddling his thighs, and slid both of his hands into her hair, pulling her face down to his. He kissed her thoroughly, and soon she, too, was breathing heavily.

Sometime later they lay beside each other, both on their backs. Andrew had one of her hands in both of his, toying with her fingers.

“Do you think we’ll get married?”

Lauren froze. “You’re not asking me, are you?”

“Not right now.”

“Oh. In that case…I’d say maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“What do you want me to say? That’s not a good question to pose theoretically.”

“What if it wasn’t theoretical? What if I was asking you to marry me?”

“Are you?”

“No.”

“Andrew!”

“What? I’m just curious what your answer would be.”

“Why are you even thinking about that?”

“Because I love you. Isn’t that what people in love should think about? The next steps?”

“Probably.”

“So?”

“I already told you. Maybe.”

“You’re infuriating. You know that?”

“You should have thought about that before theoretically asking me to marry you.”

“Probably so.”

“What else have you thought about? About us?” she asked, admiring his masculine hands as they massaged her fingers.

“Honestly?”

“Yeah.”

“Sex.”