Home > Dynamite (Stacked Deck #10)(87)

Dynamite (Stacked Deck #10)(87)
Author: Emilia Finn

Her lips quiver. “Even if it hurts?”

“Hurting with you is better than hurting alone.”

“Even if it’s terrifying?” She looks down and shakes her head. “The risk is so much, Luke. The thought of allowing myself to be all-in is terrifying, because what if you get hurt in a year, and I lose you? What if you get sick or bored?”

“Well… what if I promise to never get bored, and when I’m feeling reckless, I exercise caution?”

“You’re making a joke of this!” She bursts away and circles around to walk onto the deck where I’ve already installed timber. “You can never take anything seriously.”

“No? Well, you take everything seriously enough for us both. Are you here to be with me, Ally? Or to tell me why I’m not good enough?”

“I’m here to read my friggin’ essay, to share with you a piece of my soul, so maybe you can understand why I left.”

“No need! I know why you left. It was because you’re a fuckin’ coward.”

My words are like a jab. They make her jolt back, breathless and tearful.

“You pretended I was in the wrong, that me being protective of you is a bad thing. And that, Allyson, is your toxic trait. The worst part of all this is you’re already in love. You already gave me that part of you that you’re terrified of losing. That’s why it hurts so fucking much. You don’t have it anymore. I have it, so running away was the wrong choice. You should be running to me, to that part of you that you so desperately don’t want to go without. Which is what I do when I’m protective of you. I run to you, I take care of you, and I take care of that piece of me. That’s how I can be so giving and selfless of my heart, because I’m confident you’ll take care of it, and what you can’t do, I’ll pick up the slack and make sure we don’t fall.”

“Well, we fell, Luke! I couldn’t take care of us, so I ran, and we fell.”

“You’re here right now. You’re mad about it, you wish you weren’t. But you are, because you love me. You’re already all-in, you stupid ass. So while you’re here, let’s make shit official. We can promise forever, and then maybe you won’t be so fucking scared anymore.”

“Offic—” She stumbles on her word, then chokes it off when it registers in her mind. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Your mom and daddy held on to their love for all these years. Tell me that sappy motherfucker isn’t already trying to romance her.”

Her cheeks blaze red. “He asked her out.”

I bark out a loud laugh. “And my mom and dad were friends for years before they got hitched. But they were in. They were always in.”

“What does this even mean? What does it matter what our parents are doing?”

“It matters, because we come from a good fucking track record of making it. If you and I quit now, then we’ll ruin eighty-something years of a winning streak, assuming we use Sonia’s marriage as a goalpost, and not my paternal grandparents, seeing as how they were assholes.” I stop for a moment, and consider. “Though, I guess married is married, and maybe they’re not free citizens anymore, but they’re still married.”

“You’re. Not. Taking. This. Seriously.”

“And you’re doing that thing with your lips that everyone loves. It’s adorable as hell.”

“I hate you.” She pops her hands on her hips, moving so that the ball atop her head bobs and almost puts my life at risk when I want to laugh. “Everything is a joke to you.”

“Not everything.” I follow her to the middle of the platform and grin when she tries to step back. Thanks to my special ability of procrastination, the floor isn’t finished, and she has nowhere to go. “This isn’t a joke to me, Ally, and trust me when I say I really, really don’t want to lose the next twenty-something years with you, simply because the woman I chose to love is stubborn as a fucking mule.”

“Name-calling isn’t necessary. It shows immaturity and a lack of education.”

“Okay, well, kiss me now, and analyze my immaturity later. For the rest of time, for as long as we can be together, you have express permission to analyze me. And we both know the shit that passes through my mind is a goldmine for a therapist.”

“And if I deem the risk too high?”

I chuckle. “You mean if you remain a coward, and run back home to your mommy?”

She nods. One fast, sharp lift of her chin.

“Then I’ll follow you. I’ll grab you, and I’ll bring you right back here.”

She juts her chin up higher, determined and stubborn. “So you just decide that I’m the one who has to move? No discussion, no care for how I feel?”

“I can’t leave,” I snigger. “I’m literally under court orders, because of Jason-fucking-Donnerson, to never leave this town. I have a martial arts school now, and a warrant for my arrest if I tiptoe past the town limits.”

“You sound like a catch.” She rolls her eyes and tries to turn away, but I grab her shoulders, and begin swaying when a slow song comes on my phone. The sound remains tinny, and snowflakes slowly fall around us. But I force her into me.

She’s the kid who refused to dance when her mom wanted her to, but she will not be the woman who refuses me.

“Dance with me, Allyson. Prove to me that you can let go for a second and relax.”

“I didn’t finish reading my essay yet.” And yet, she winds her arms up and around my neck. Just like that, in the snow and cold breeze, she dances with me. “I put a lot of time and effort into it. And despite the argument you goaded me into, it leaned toward apology.”

“Apology?”

She rests her cheek on my chest and exhales. “Because I’m sorry for being a coward.”

“Will you stay with me?”

She thinks on it for a moment. She thinks so long that my breath catches and my stomach dips.

“Do you promise to never get bored, die, or leave me?”

“Yes.” Obviously I can’t promise to never die. We both know that, but still, I say the words. “I swear.”

“And will you ask me to dance at least once a week?”

I pull back to study her shimmering eyes. “Dance?”

She nods. “I can’t be trusted to ask, nor to initiate it, so I need you to do it. To make sure I can be a little bit silly sometimes.”

“I promise.” I lean in slowly, hesitantly, and when she doesn’t scream and run away, I press a soft kiss to her plump lips. “At least once a week. Probably thirty times, though, if we’re being honest.”

“And if I’m making you miserable because you’re a wild soul who demands freedom, and I’m a coward who can’t veer from routine?”

“I promise to throw away every single clock and calendar in the apartment.”

She purses her lips and shakes her head. “Not what I was going for.”

“I promise to love you forever. How about that? And if, for some crazy reason, my feelings begin to waver, I’ll let you know, and we’ll talk about it.”

“Good.” Fresh tears pop past her lashes and spill out. “Because I don’t wanna run away anymore. I don’t wanna lose twenty years for no reason.”

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