You Belong With Me (With Me in Seattle 14)

“Ally what?”

I clear my throat. Lick my lips. Shit.

“Ally what?” he asks again.

“Look, thanks for the groceries, but I’m sure you want to get back on the road so you get home at a decent hour—”

He takes my chin in his fingers and makes me look him in the eyes. “Tell me.”

“Montgomery,” I whisper and close my eyes in embarrassment. “Ally Montgomery.”

“Look at me.”

“Archer, it doesn’t matter what my last name is.”

To my utter shock, he simply leans over and covers my lips with his own. Gently, but boldly. My inhale is sharp, but I don’t pull away.

I’ve dreamed of having his lips on mine for years.

And here he is. Kissing me as if he does it all the time, like it’s no big thing. Like my heart isn’t pounding out of control. Like he isn’t going to leave me alone any minute.

When he pulls away, his eyes are dilated, and his breaths come a bit faster than before.

“I’m not leaving.”

“Archer.”

“Just listen,” he pleads. “It took me a long damn time to find you.”

“No one was supposed to ever find me.” I stop short and frown at him. “Wait. How did you find me?”

He pulls a piece of paper out of his back pocket and holds it out for me to take. I recognize the lined notebook paper. It’s well-worn, the creases deep as if he’s opened and closed it a thousand times.

I unfold it and sigh.

“My list.”

“I remember that day like it was yesterday,” he says, still eating his breakfast. “You told me all the places you’d run away to if you had the chance, and I wrote them down so I could take you to every one of them someday.”

“And you kept it. These were just daydreams,” I say, but lovingly read over the words.

Maui

Horse ranch in Montana

California vineyards

Tuscany

Bandon, Oregon

Beach in Mexico

I see each item has notes and check marks next to them, clearly written recently.

“You never talk about something flippantly,” he says, making my heart skip another beat. “They may have been daydreams, but I know you, and I knew I’d find you in one of these places.”

“I notice you didn’t try Maui, Mexico, or Tuscany.”

“I decided to start more domestically, but if I hadn’t found you here, Maui was next on my list.”

I’ve cried so much over the past two days, I wouldn’t have thought I had any more tears left in me. But my eyes well as I stare at the list.

“We were on the boat that day,” I say. “Drifting around Lake Washington, and you just let me talk on and on about these places that I’d like to visit. You were always a good listener, Arch. A good friend.”

“I’m still a good listener,” he says. “And your eggs are getting cold.”

I take a bite of eggs with potatoes and fold the paper, then pass it back to him. “You can’t stay.”

“Why not? If you don’t want me, if you’ve moved on with your life and you truly want nothing to do with me, then I’ll go. Is that what you want? To never see me again?”

I can’t lie to him. Even if it would be best for both of us. I should tell him that I don’t want him, and send him far away.

To keep him safe.

He links his fingers with mine, the way he always did when we were so young and so in love we were stupid with it. And I know that I don’t have the strength to tell him to go.

“I want you to be safe,” I admit. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“I’m a grown man, perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

“Archer.” I surprise us both and straddle his lap, framing his face with my hands. “I need you to hear me. I know you’re able to take care of yourself, but my family is powerful. Ruthless. And if they find us here, they’ll kill you. Don’t you understand that everything I’ve done over the past twelve years has been to keep you safe from them?”

“I don’t take this lightly. That’s not what I’m saying, E. But the risk of being with you is better than the agony of being without you.”

I lean my forehead against his. “We don’t even know each other anymore.”

“We’ll learn.” His hands, those big, wonderful hands, glide to my ass, over my loose T-shirt, and then he buries his fingers in my hair. “Maybe we won’t like each other anymore, and I’ll be gone in twenty-four hours.”

That makes me smile. “You have started snoring in your old age. That could be a deal-breaker.”

His eyes narrow. “I don’t snore.”

“Uh, yeah. You do.”

He moves fast, pinning me to the bed.

“I think my ass is in my eggs,” I say, giggling like crazy.

“Take it back.”

“It’s the truth. I can feel them through my underwear.”

“No, the snoring. Take it back.”