Walk of Shame (Love Unexpectedly 4)

I smile up at him, even as my heart breaks for both of us. “You don’t get it, Andrew. I don’t want the guy with the pretty, planned-out speech. I want the guy who’s not afraid to be spontaneous when he needs to be, who’s not afraid to get messy, because love is messy.”

His eyes flare, and he captures my chin with his fingers. “Is that what this is? Do you love me?”

The question sends a spark of pain shooting through me, and I take a step back without answering.

“Georgiana—”

I turn away, my vision obscured with tears as I scan the crowd, hoping to see Marley or a familiar face. Wanting to find someone who can whisk me away from the pain of this moment. Someone who will stop me from giving in to the temptation to settle for a guy who doesn’t believe in fairy tales.

The crowd is still quieter than usual, so the familiar lyrics hit my ears loud and clear, if not exactly on key.

Someone is singing “That’s How You Know,” from Enchanted. I go perfectly still, eyes closed, as I wait to wake up from the dream.

When I open them again, the words are still coming, closer this time, the voice low and rough and masculine, and nothing like Amy Adams’s soprano, but infinitely more dear.

I slowly turn, unapologetically crying as I face a still-singing Andrew. It’s really only fair that with such a beautiful face, he has a semi-terrible singing voice.

“Really?” I say on a sob. “Really? Everyone’s staring.”

He only sings louder, lifting his hands and spinning in a circle to the whoops of the crowd before continuing toward me.

Only when his hands move to cup my face does he stop the song.

“That’s how you know, Georgiana,” he says, bending down so his lips are to my ear, his next words just for me, not the crowd. “That’s how you know I love you.”

I mean to tell him I love him too, but the only thing that comes out is a sob as I throw my arms around his neck and pull him close.

He still doesn’t relax, the press of his fingers urgent, demanding. “Love me back,” he whispers. “Please love me back.”

I press my face to his neck. “You’re ridiculous,” I whisper. “Of course I love you back.”

Andrew’s eyes close, his head going back in relief, before he looks down at me with a smile. “If you really love me, we’ll never speak of the singing episode again.”

I grin back. “If you really love me, you’ll do an encore whenever I demand it.”

His gaze goes just a touch more serious as his fingers brush my lips. “I truly do love you, Georgiana. I owe you so many apologies for the way I spoke to you that night.”

“I’d like to hear those,” I say, going to my toes and kissing him. “Maybe later? In bed? Naked?”

“But—”

“Please don’t make me beg you to take me home right now,” I say with a little laugh.

He kisses me slowly and thoroughly, but pulls back far too soon and checks his watch. “Not yet. It’s just past three.”

I lift eyebrows. “You say that mighty casually for a man who usually gets up in two hours.”

“Actually, I get up in one hour. I usually wake up at four; I just dawdled a little so I could see you every morning.”

“Four? I don’t know if that’s sweet or obscene.”

“Both. Now, what time does your donut shop open?” he asks, putting an arm around my shoulder and pulling me close as he lifts a hand to hail a cab.

“Not till five, but they let me in at a quarter to.”

“Of course they do,” he mutters. “So what do you usually do until then?”

I shrug. “Talk with friends. Go to a diner. There’s an all-night coffee shop that does Disney karaoke from midnight to four—”