Chapter 33
Thirty-Three
ONE YEAR BEFORE THE ACCIDENT
“It’s one weekend,” Zev says, but I’m not looking at him. I’m walking around my classroom, mindlessly shifting things that don’t need shifting. My pulse thrums in my wrist, and it’ll only get worse if I look at him.
“Yes, and I would be in the way—”
“Rosalie.” My name is a growl on his lips. “You would not be in the way. I want you there.”
“With your mother?” I groan, then tear my eyes away from my nonsensical busyness to give the sweetest man I know one sympathetic glance.
“You’ve never met her.”
And I was sort of never planning on meeting her. Zev and I have been officially dating for months. It’s going great… why do we have to mess it up by involving more people? “It’s too soon.”
“It’s not,” he says, following me. I pick up a stack of math papers that are perfectly fine in their “turn-in” cubby and walk them over to my desk.
“I have school—”
“You have a three-day weekend. And my weekends off are about to come to an abrupt end.”
I lick my lips and try to be brave, which involves looking at the man who has completely stolen my heart. “State testing is coming.”
“And you’re prepared. I’m pretty sure no second graders will be at my mom’s house this weekend. You won’t have work to do.”
“You don’t know that.” I frown, just to get my point across.
“I do. So do you.”
“Zev, teachers work on the weekends.”
“Gah!” Patient Zev throws up his hands. “Why are you being so stubborn about this?”
“Why don’t you understand that I have to work?” I squeeze my hands to my hips and glare.
“Why are you always using work as an excuse?”
I scoff but stand my ground. “I’m not. You’re the busy one. You’re the one always working—”
“Except for this weekend,” he says, his irritable tone dying out. “Rosalie, come home with me. Please.”
My groaning sigh is loud and a little obnoxious and cannot be helped. “Why is this so important?”
Zevulun’s beautiful face goes red—as red as the hair on his head. I swivel back to the stack of books on my desk and start to pointlessly alphabetize them.
“Because I’d like to introduce my mother to the woman I’m in love with!” He practically yells the words at me. As if he didn’t just use that “L” word so casually. While fighting with me!
I turn on my heels, facing him. “Did you just say—”
He swallows. “Love. Yes.” His chest deflates and his arms and hands flap at his sides.
“You love me?” I press my lips in on one another. Love?
“Yes, Rosalie. I’ve loved you for a long time. I never said it because I knew it might freak you out. I know Robert was the last guy who told you that and—”
I press one finger to his lips, quieting him. Now is not the time to talk about the ex. My heart thuds in my chest, longing to hear him say it one more time, maybe without the growl. “Say it again.”
He grins beneath my finger, and I slowly curl it back, dropping my hand to my side. “Rosalie Noreen Conrad—”
I press my finger to his lips once more and shake my head. “Nope. Sounds too much like a proposal.”
He smothers a laugh, then gently pulls my hand from his face. He laces his left fingers through my right and cups my cheek with his opposite hand. His clear blue eyes search mine for only a second. “My darling, Rose. I love you.”
It’s a wonder that I’m still on my feet.
My knees have gone weak and my legs might be numb.
My heart patters with his name—Zev-Zev, Zev-Zev.
Three little words, but they’re like a sonnet, like a song, like a ballad that Elton John sings while some sexy saxophone player makes magic in the background.
So… my daydream needs a little work.
“I love you,” I say without even a thought. I just feel it. And I mean it—more than I’ve ever meant anything. The best man I’ve ever known loves me. How could I not love him back?
Zev’s hand cradles the back of my head. He closes in, his nose brushing mine before he places one soft kiss to my lips. “Does this mean you’ll meet my mother?”
I kiss him in return—it isn’t a yes, but it isn’t a no either. It’s simply a way to shut him up.