Page 60 of Meet Cute Reboot

When I opened the door for Luke, he swooped in and grabbed my waist. I gripped his shoulders as he twirled me around.

“Hey!”

Luke set me down gently.

“What’s up with you?” I laughed.

“I’ve always wanted to do that.” He stepped back and traveled his eyes along the length of my body. “You look magical.”

I tilted my head to the side and tried to think of a comeback. When nothing came to mind, I just smiled and said thanks.

Luke grabbed my waist again. He pulled me close and found my lips. The scent of his aftershave overtook me, and I collapsed in his arms. After a long, deep kiss, he let go, but I still held on to him for support.

“Thanks for dressing up,” he said.

“Can we change into our pajamas now?”

He tapped me on the nose. “Later.”

Luke exited the front door and returned holding a plastic bag.

“You really did have that twirling thing planned.”

He flashed me a satisfied smile before heading to my rundown kitchen. Despite his upper-class lifestyle, he never disparaged my first-floor apartment. My house wasn’t much to look at, witha boxed-in, musty porch, enclosed with gray siding that was supposed to be white. The discolored metal awning over the front door further reduced the house’s appeal. I painted the door red to make the house look more cared for. It didn’t help much.

From my perch in the living room, I watched Luke pull two raw steaks and a bottle of wine from his bag. The open concept living area was created by previous owners who knocked down the kitchen wall. The first time Luke came over, he studied the shoddy work without commenting. The next day a contractor banged on my door. The demolished wall had been load bearing, which meant nothing was supporting the upstairs but God and a lot of luck. Luke paid to have a proper footing poured and a header beam placed. He didn’t ask permission and we never discussed money. It was the one handout I accepted from him, not counting the steaks and aged wine he brought that evening along with countless other fancy nights out. And diamond earrings. And a cashmere sweater.

“Let me get the grill started,” Luke said.

Oh. And the gas grill on my back “patio,” otherwise known as the cracked square of concrete just off the kitchen door. He gave me that too, although I think he mostly bought it for himself so he wouldn’t have to use my ancient 1960s gas stove.

While he was out lighting the grill, I settled onto my secondhand microfiber couch and clicked on the television.

“Nope,” Luke said when he came back inside. He picked the remote out of my hand and pressed the power button. My television went dark. “Not tonight.” He rounded the couch and gave me a peck on the forehead. “I’ll be right back with some wine.”

A grand entrance. Fancy attire. Marbled steaks. It had all the markings of a marriage proposal. I squeezed my palms together and smiled.

He returned carrying two long-stemmed wine glasses filled with a modest amount of Taylor Fladgate 40-year red wine. We sat shoulder to shoulder exchanging toasts and taking mindful sips to savor the mature, fruity flavor of the wine.

“To us,” Luke said. A simple toast but loaded with meaning as I anticipated what was to come: Luke on one knee, for real this time, plastic ruby upgraded to a glittering diamond.

Luke pulled his phone from his pocket and connected it to the Bluetooth speaker mounted on the wall next to the television. John Legend’sThe Beginning…piped into the room, delicate piano chords beneath a sexy, synthesized violin.

He offered his hand. “Want to dance?”

I grinned at the suggestive lyrics. “Sure.”

We stood, and he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me tight while I snaked my arms around his neck. Our hips swayed in time, no daylight between our bodies as we leaned into the music.

John Legend sang about “the beginning.” The beginning of forever. I smiled and pressed my cheek to Luke’s chest, listened to his heart pound in time with the percussion. When the song ended, I looked up at him, and he pressed his lips onto mine, the kiss more delicious than anything he could grill up. Nevertheless, I after pulling away, I said, “Go make me a juicy steak.”

“Yes, chef.”

I laughed and returned to the couch. “Mind if I switch songs? I want to listen to Taylor.”

“Sure,” Luke called over his shoulder. I heard the back door slam behind him.

His phone sat on the cushion next to me. I grabbed it and pulled up Spotify. While I was scrolling through the song selection, a text came through.