The Real

No man could ever be so perfect.

“What did you do, Coach Bledsoe?”

Music drifted from behind a set of double doors as a group of students passed us.

Cameron glanced around us and then peered down at me. “I can’t kiss you in there, but just know that I want to.”

“I have a feeling you’ll make it up to me. Are you going to answer my question?”

I got my answer when he ushered me into the intricately decorated hall and I realized the lengths he’d gone to. Floating roses were draped from the ceiling, along with large globe lighting. The tables were all covered with enchanted roses that hung suspended in glass. Large storybooks were stacked in all four corners of the square hall.

“The theme is timeless romance,” Cameron said, standing next to me. My eyes drifted to his and he turned to me with a proud smirk. “It’s not dead, Abbie.”

“Cameron,” I said softly as I noted the endless detail that filled the four corners of the room, “how long have you been planning this?”

He squeezed my hand.

“How long?” I demanded.

“A while,” he said, his answering look unwavering.

He wanted me to know but didn’t boast about it. While I stood in a daze due to his gesture, he shed our coats.

A while.

Months, it had to have been. The truth was in the details, and there were so many.

Even though I was sure it took a village, he’d been specific about those details. I couldn’t stop my wandering eyes as he took my hand and led me to the dance floor.

“You aren’t chaperoning?”

“Yes,” he said as he ignored the snickers of a few of the students. “But it was just an excuse to get you here.”

“Looking good, Coach,” one of the guys said as we passed them on the floor.

“Thanks, Rafferty,” he said without looking his way.

We danced alongside an oversized stack of classics—Romeo and Juliet, Great Expectations, and Pride and Prejudice.

Though the school was elite, I was sure they didn’t have the budget to pull it off. I was certain Cameron had funded damn near all of it.

It struck me then that I’d never had a man go so far to make a believer out of me. No one had ever come close.

Weightless, I clung to him. I felt like I was floating as we moved across the floor. It took every bit of strength I had not to tear up.

“Cameron,” I said, unable to put into words what I was feeling. Instead, I buried my head in his shoulder. “Where in the hell have you been?”

“Anywhere but where I needed to be,” he whispered softly.

The Killers “Be Still” rang out as he pulled me to him and began to move. Cameron nodded toward the DJ.

“This is a beautiful song,” I said, looking over his shoulder and meeting a woman’s eyes that zeroed in on us.

“It’s the senior song of 2018,” Cameron said with a grin.

“Oh God, I feel so old,” I said with wide eyes.

“Not me. I would never want to go through what they’re about to go through again,” he said dismissively. “I’m good.”