Page 114 of Not Safe for Work

He takes my hand and laces his fingers through mine. “I told my mom I met someone who makes me happier than anyone has ever made me. Someone who’s become everything to me.”

“And?” I whisper.

“And she can’t wait to meet you.”

That right there is the moment I splinter. All of my fears and worries dissipate, turning into the past. Rafe has proven that I can trust him. He makes me feel safe, and… he is so worth it.

But Rafe isn’t done with his revelations yet.

He pauses and takes a deep breath as if the next part costs a piece of himself.

“And I quit WMC. I told my father I was done, and this was never what I wanted. At first, I’d planned to do it for you, but you beat me to it.”

“I didn’t want you to quit for me,” I say.

“I know. In the end, I did it for me. Your courage gave me the guts to do so.”

My nose is running from crying, and I wipe it with the sleeve of my sweater.

If he still loves me like this, then I don’t think he’s going anywhere.

“I’m so proud of you, too,” I whisper.

He pulls me in closer, a finger trailing my jaw. “Tris, I love you. I want to be with you if you’ll have me.”

He looks so hopeful and beautiful. His eyes are pools of melted amber reflecting in sunlight. He is everything I wanted and didn’t know was right in front of me all along.

“I love you too,” I say. “Of course I’ll have you.”

He wraps me in his arms and kisses me hard. Then, he touches his forehead to mine. “I promise never to let you down again.”

It’s then I remember. “Uh, Molly.” She’s watching us with an enormous smile, her elbows on the counter and face cradled in her hands. “I think you can go now.”

“Right,” she says, blinking. “Of course.”

She gathers up her purse and scurries over, wrapping us both in a hug. “Welcome to the family, Rafe. It was a long time coming.”

“I look forward to getting to know you better, Molly.”

They exchange a grin, and my heart explodes in a hailstorm of candy hearts.

When we’re alone, Rafe steps back and carefully rolls up the cuffs of his black dress shirt. “I’m sorry I can’t take you to my lair right now. The drive is way too long, and I need you right this very minute. Unless you want to eat the tarts first?”

He gives me that evil smirk I fell in love with, and it turns my knees to jelly.

“What about your followers? Won’t they wonder how I responded?”

“Really? You don’t mind?”

“Take a picture and tell them,” I say.

I’m warming to the idea of mild social media fame. He draws me next to him, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. With his lips pressed to my temple, he snaps a photo of us while I grin at the screen. This smile is a permanent fixture now, like the address above the front door.

He taps on the screen and posts the picture, showing it to me.

The caption reads: She loves me too.

His notifications are already blowing up with like after like as the comments roll in.