Well, he walked up to me and he asked me if I wanted to dance,

He looked kinda nice and so I said I might take a chance,

When he danced he held me tight,

And when he walked me home that night,

All the stars were shining bright,

And then he kissed me

Pam usually doesn’t attend ballroom functions. The bodices were uncomfortable, she preferred to dance in the privacy of her bedroom, and even if she did want to dance in front of a room full of strangers, she was rarely asked to. Instead, she spent most of the night standing by the finger foods and gossiping with Isabel – whenever her friend wasn’t preoccupied with someone else, that is. So, no, she usually doesn’t attend these types of events.

Yet here she was. Wearing a borrowed gown that was both too tight and too long, hair pulled back with just enough pins to make it uncomfortable, with the lights above making the crowded room just a little too warm, she can feel the sweat slowly beading down her forehead as she stands by the back wall. Her mother had insisted she go, claiming Pam spent too much time indoors painting and reading, and she wasn’t getting any younger. The chances of finding a suitable husband were getting slimmer as the years passed without a ring on her finger. Pam had rolled her eyes, unbothered by the fact that she was approaching 24 without a man to court, but obeyed her mother’s wishes anyway.

But now, as she stands away from the crowd, watching Isabel dance with someone Pam can rightfully assume she will leave the ball with, Pam wishes she had ended up staying home instead. The thought of sitting at her easel, using her watercolors to paint the garden outside of her window as she listens to some of her favorite records, sounded more and more appealing as the clock ticked on. With no one paying attention, she slouches against the wall, daydreaming of colors swirling together on the blank canvas she had left sitting on her bed.

“You know, most women wouldn’t be caught dead with your posture.”

She stands up straight, startled by the man who had seemingly appeared out of thin air by her side. She smiles politely at him before turning back to the crowd, hoping he would leave her alone since she is only twenty minutes away from being able to respectfully leave.

Instead, out of the corner of her eye, she can see him lean up against the wall next to her, crossing his ankle over the other as he puts his hands into his pockets. “What’s your name?”

She considers leaving now, reputation (or lack thereof) be damned. She really didn’t want to get involved with anything or anyone tonight, only showing up to please her mother’s wishes. But when she glances back over her shoulder at him, his eyes are soft and warm and she finds herself already wondering if any of her paints would be able to perfectly illustrate the beautiful greens and golds of his irises – she’s not sure they could.

She quietly clears her throat, “Pamela. Um, Pam. Pam Beesly.”

“Well, Pamela, Pam, Pammy—”

She crinkles her nose, “Ugh, don’t call me Pammy, please. Just Pam.”

His chuckle is both soft and deep and she bites her lip as he pushes off the wall and stands only a foot away from her. “Okay, Pam.” He holds out his hand, “May I have this dance?”

Her eyebrow raises a little, but she breaks every rule she had made for herself tonight as she slips her hand into his and lets him lead her to the dance floor. When he stops on the side of the dance floor instead of bringing her to the center like most men have done, she wonders if he could tell how much she didn’t want to be here in the first place. He turns to her and places one hand on her waist as he holds the other one up beside them. She puts her other hand on his shoulder before he steps forward, stepping in time with the couples near them.

She follows his lead, his confidence not going unnoticed. His long arms and legs look like they wouldn’t be too graceful, but he is clearly much more well versed in ballroom dancing than she is. While she could blame the fact that her dress is too long, she knows that she would be focusing on not tripping even if her dress was perfectly tailored. It’s not until his finger is lifting her chin and his whispered, “Just follow me,” hits her ears that she realizes she had started looking down at her feet in order to concentrate. His arm wraps around her waist a little more, holding her tighter, like a physical reminder that he will catch her if she falls.

As she looks into his eyes and his smile starts to ease any of her insecurities, she really hopes he will.  

One song turned into three and by the time the band announces their final song, he has pulled her close enough to have her head resting on his chest. They had slowed down from traditional ballroom dancing to just swaying, his arms around her waist and Pam’s around his neck, occasionally running her fingers through the ends of his hair. She looks up at him as the final song starts coming to a close. His eyes are just as soft and warm as they were when she first looked at them, but now they were a deeper shade, and she wondered how many different shades of green they can turn. Mostly, she wonders if she will be able to know him long enough to find out, which surprises her.

She came tonight to hopefully keep her mother from bothering her about staying inside too much. Isabel had told her she would come as well, so she knew she wouldn’t be completely bored the entire time. She also would never complain about the free food and cocktails, getting her out of another mundane, burnt dinner at home. What she didn’t expect was to be approached by someone who had somehow managed to take her breath away without saying any more than a dozen words to her. But it was everything she had noticed while he held her close. The way his hair was styled but still curled a little around his ears, the way he would immediately come up with something to make her laugh the few times she did stumble while dancing so she wouldn’t be embarrassed, how even though he was so much taller than her, she still seemed to fit perfectly against him. The way he was looking at her right now as everyone around them starts to depart, like he isn’t quite ready to say goodbye.

He lets go of her just enough to be able to fully look at her, and for a moment that’s all he does. Her hands slide from his neck down to his chest, but she keeps her gaze on his while she waits for the question she can see in his eyes. He lifts his hand and pushes a stray curl behind her ear before asking, “Can I walk you home?”

Before she can respond, she feels a hand on her shoulder and then hears Isabel’s voice, “There you are. I’m going home with Dwight,” she glances over before looking back at Pam, “Are you good?”

She had stepped back when Isabel had interrupted them, so she looks over to meet his gaze and she can’t help but smile a little, “Yeah, I’m good.”

Isabel’s eyebrows raise and she leans in to whisper, “I expect details,” before kissing Pam’s cheek and scurrying off to a tall, broad man with a middle part that she can only assume to be Dwight.

“So, is that a yes?”

Pam looks back up at him and nods, “Yes. I would love that.”

He helps her into her swing coat and holds onto her purse as she buttons the front. He doesn’t take her hand until they’ve made it to the street, his fingers interlocking with hers immediately. The only things they hear as they walk are crickets, frogs, and the occasional car driving by, neither breaking the comfortable silence they have formed until she finally says, “So, do I get to know your name, or are you going to stay a mystery?”

He chuckles, “I guess I haven’t properly introduced myself, have I? You’ll have to forgive me. James Halpert, but everyone except my father calls me Jim.”

She had been quietly trying to guess his name all night – Jack, Ethan, Owen, Benjamin. James nor Jim had ever crossed her mind, but when she looks at him now, she’s not sure how she didn’t guess it right away. She’s not quite sure how or why, but the name fit him, his almost boyish looks and tall frame.

She nods a little and whispers, “I like it.”

She feels him squeeze her hand and can see his smile from the corner of her eye, and the blush creeping up her chest to her cheeks is involuntary.

Her house appears too quickly for both of their liking, but he walks her to her porch anyway. He doesn’t let go of her hand even once they have reached the front door, so she turns to look at him, a small smile playing on her lips. He’s smiling a little too, but she can see the little bit of worry on his face, with his eyebrows furrowed a touch and his head just slightly tilted. He takes a step forward and lets go of her hand only to cup her cheek and whisper, “Can I?”

Her nod is so small, she’s not sure if he had seen it. She’s about to tell him ‘yes’ when he leans down, and his lips are on hers, her eyes falling closed. She can feel his other hand gently squeeze her waist before he moves it to cup her other cheek and she rests hers on his shoulders. She moves a little closer to him just as he breaks apart, pecking her lips once more before kissing her forehead and looks down at her, his thumbs faintly stroking her cheeks that are now flushed from more than just the cold.

“I would like to see you again, Pam, if that is okay with you.”

She nods again, not quite able to form words after the kiss that took her breath away despite how simple it was.

His grin makes his eyes shine like the stars that are looking down at them and runs his hands down her arms, squeezing her hands in his. “Are you free for dinner tomorrow night?”

“Yes.”

“Then it’s a date.”

Her mind is swirling with dances, laughter, and kisses as she lies in her bed, letting the newest Elvis record say out loud how she is already feeling about the man who she had just met but knew she would never forget.

Each time I saw him I couldn't wait to see him again,

I wanted to let him know that he was more than a friend,

I didn't know just what to do,

So, I whispered "I love you,”

And he said that he loved me too,

And then he kissed me

She’s counting down the minutes until her shift at the diner ends. She can see Jim waiting in his truck outside, the butterflies in her stomach fluttering harder every time she catches his eye. They had been going steady for a couple of months now and she wasn’t sure if she would always feel this way when she saw him, but she hoped she would. The way her heart soared, how she could never seem to wipe the smile off of her face, how he makes her feel like it’s just the two of them no matter where they are, she has never felt like this before, but she didn’t want to stop.

Her apron is untied and on the hook as soon as her manager tells her she’s free to go, practically skipping out to Jim’s car. She’s pretty sure he greets her as she opens the door and sits down, but she’s busy leaning over and cupping his face to kiss him, so she’s not exactly sure what he said. One of his hands automatically goes to her hair and the other to her waist, pulling her closer. She only pulls back when some teens going into the diner start whistling and tapping the hood of the car. She glances over to make sure they’ve left before looking back at Jim and says quietly, “Hi, Baby.”

He kisses her forehead and gives a low, “Hey,” before letting her go so she can buckle up.

Her smile grows a little more as she sits back and puts on her seatbelt. She waits until he’s pulling out onto the road to loop her arm around his, resting her hand in the crook of his elbow. The leather of his letterman jacket is smooth and soft under her fingers and she can feel his bicep flex whenever he shifts gears.

Their bigger moments are wonderful. When he met her parents before picking her up for their first official date and they instantly liked him. When he surprised her with a nice necklace and some of the art supplies she had mentioned once for Christmas. When he waited outside of her house after their first fight until she came down so he could apologize. But it’s the quiet moments that she likes the most. When they lay in her room, listening to Elvis, The Diamonds, and The Everly Brothers. When they’re bundled up and walking through the park, stopping anytime she wants to commit a scene to memory in order to paint it later. When they’re in the truck, like right now, windows cracked open and listening to him hum along to the radio. These are the moments where she realizes she is really falling deeper and deeper into everything that is Jim Halpert.

After dropping her off at home to change out of her uniform and into a dress that she knows has become one of his favorites on her, they pull into the drive in, parking in the slightly overgrown grass. He starts to set up the back of his truck with pillows and blankets while she gets popcorn and cokes at the concession stand.

It isn’t long into the movie before her eyelids start to feel heavy. She’s usually into anything James Dean related, but laying in the back of his truck, the warmth of the blankets on top of her and his arm around her shoulder, she couldn’t have stayed awake if someone paid her. By the time she opens her eyes again, her head is on his chest and the movie seems to be almost over. She blinks a couple of times before looking up at Jim, seeing that he had dozed off at some point as well. His arm was still wrapped around her, but his head was leaning against the side of the truck, his mouth parted open.

 She takes a moment to study him, having never seen him asleep before. His hair is slightly mussed from the early spring breeze and his awkward sleeping position. She had seen him relaxed before, when they’re listening to records or as he watches her paint, but it’s entirely different when he’s asleep. He looks even more boyish, so innocent and peaceful. She had imagined him to be a snorer, but he’s not. Every deep breath he takes in comes out slow and quiet, blowing just above her head. As she sits there and watches him for another moment, she starts to picture waking up to this every day. In their house, in their bed, maybe with their children sleeping in the next room.

She reaches up and gently caresses his face with her hand, stroking his cheek with her thumb until he begins to stir. He squints down at her and smiles, so full of sleep, and when he leans down to kiss the top of her head, the words come out, almost instinctively.

“I love you.”

He pulls back and she looks at him, worried that she was reading this all wrong. But when she meets his eyes, she knows she hasn’t. His eyebrows are knitted together, but it’s more trying to figure out if he’s still dreaming than anything else. He squeezes her shoulder, runs a hand through her hair, as if the more he touches her the more he convinces himself that this is real. She leans up and kisses him softly for a moment, pulling back just enough to whisper the three words again.

His lips are back on hers before she can pull back more, the hand in her hair pulling her up and as close to him as he can manage without hurting her. The hand on his face slides back, her fingers tangling into the hair at the nape of his neck. Her other hand snakes around his waist, grabbing a fistful of his jacket as he turns to hover over her. He pulls away, enough to look at her while his thumb strokes her hairline.

The way he had just kissed her, the way that he’s looking down at her right now, she’s sure that he loves her too. But it doesn’t stop her heart from skipping when he whispers, “I love you, too.”

He leans down and kisses her again, hands getting tangled in each other’s hair, legs intertwining together, the ending to the movie long forgotten.  

He kissed me in a way that I've never been kissed before,

He kissed me in a way that I wanna be kissed forever more

It had started off completely innocently. Jim came over to help her dad fix the sink, he stayed for lunch, and then they went to her room as her parents were leaving to go grocery shopping. Her sister Penny was home until about five minutes ago, when her own boyfriend picked her up for an early movie. She had started to sketch him, claiming that he would thank her when she’s a famous artist one day. He sat still for a little bit, watching her glance up at him before looking back down at her paper and either drawing new lines or erasing old ones. He knows she’s really concentrating when the tip of her tongue goes between her teeth, but he can’t help himself. He leans over and kisses her, immediately getting pushed away as she giggles and tells him she’s trying to work. He frowns at her and she rolls her eyes as he sits back up against the wall again.

She bites her lip as she studies him. He had closed his eyes after leaning back against the wall, so she takes a moment to consider her next step. She thumbs the promise ring he had given to her a week ago, telling her that the only reason a diamond wasn’t attached was because she hadn’t met his parents yet. She wanted to, he had told her how great they are and how much they would love her, and she believes him, but she’s still nervous.

She loves him more than she thought was possible. She had dated before, had a couple of boyfriends in high school, and one after graduating, but nothing had ever come close to what she found with Jim. He made her feel safe and appreciated and loved beyond words, which is why she doesn’t want to mess this up. She knows that meeting his parents is the last big moment they have to get through before he’ll propose, and she’s afraid that she will say the wrong thing, and this will all be over. So, she keeps putting it off, because if it doesn’t happen then she can’t screw it up.

But now as she sits here and looks over at the man opposite of her, eyes still closed, t-shirt stained from lunch, hand resting on her leg that is draped over his lap, and she wants to know all of him. Who raised him, what his childhood home looks like, if his brothers are as annoying and if his sister is as sweet as he says they are.

As her eyes trail down from his face down to his chest and then lower, she thinks she really wants to know all of him.

She quietly puts her sketchbook on her nightstand before crawling over to him, straddling his hips with her knees. He looks up at her with a raised eyebrow and a small smirk, making her bite her lip as she runs her thumb over his bottom lip. His hands slide up her legs, stopping when his fingertips reach just beneath the skirt of her dress. She plays with the hair that curls near his ear as she kisses his forehead first; her whispered, “I love you,” is so soft he might not have heard it if she wasn’t right there in front of him. Her lips finally meet his, though she only ghosts them over him. He wants to pull her closer, really kiss her, run his hands over her sides and through her hair, but he doesn’t. He lets her lead, knowing this is different.

She deepens the kiss as she slides her hands from his hair to his chest. By the time her fingers reach the hem of his shirt, she had opened her mouth up to him, giving him more control. Her hands slide across his stomach first before sliding back up to his chest. He lifts his arms so she can get rid of the shirt altogether, crashing her lips back to his before the shirt hits the floor. He wraps his arm around her back, flipping them over and pulling her further up the bed so her head hits the pillows. She wraps her legs around his thighs and pushes him closer so she can meet his lips again.

He moves to kiss up her jaw, below her ear, down her neck. His hands stay on her waist until he feels her fingers interlock with his and move his hand to her chest. He leans up to look at her, her eyes wide and dark. He keeps his fingers between hers but moves his hand so he can squeeze hers.

“We don’t have to—”

“I know. I want to.” Her voice is quiet but confident, a whisper spoken so strongly she might as well have yelled.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

He kisses her forehead then rests his own against hers and whispers, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

I knew that he was mine so I gave him all the love that I had,

And one day he took me home to meet his mom and his dad,

Then he asked me to be his bride,

And always be right by his side,

I felt so happy I almost cried,

And then he kissed me

She melts into him as he kisses her forehead again then trails kisses down the side of her face and down her jaw until he’s reached her lips. She squeezes the hand that is still intertwined with his before letting go so she can intertwine her fingers in his hair instead. Her other hand slides down his chest and around his back, pulling him flush against her.

Her nerves dissolve the more he holds her. The way he strokes her waist with his thumb as he unbuttons the front of her dress with the other hand. How he checks in with her, asks her if she’s okay, with every new step they take. When her hands start to shake a little bit when trying to undo his belt, so he stops her and kisses her until she’s ready.

His slacks are pulled down, her dress is off, and there’s nothing left between them besides their underwear and shared breaths. It isn’t long before she’s pulling his boxers down as well and he’s removing her bra and panties. She focuses on his lips on her neck as he pushes forward, both of them finding a rhythm as their sighs and moans fill the room.

She turns to him after she’s caught her breath, running her hand through his hair and down the side of his face. She smiles when he kisses her nose and tightens his hold on her, pulling her closer to him.

A car door opening and closing outside brings them out of their own little world, their eyes widening when they hear her parents’ voices getting closer. She’s pushing him away as he’s sitting up, climbing over her to grab their clothes off of the floor. She giggles when her cheeks grow red as he hands her bra and underwear to her and he raises his eyebrow at her. She tosses his t-shirt to him and fixes his hair while he buttons the front of her dress.

His hands are on her hips when he pulls her in for one more kiss, deep and lingering and breathtaking, before turning towards the door.

“Hey.”

He turns in the doorway and looks at her, his eyes still dark and his head tilted just slightly to the left. “Yeah?”

“I want to meet your parents.”

The smile he gives is her favorite. It’s toothy and a little lopsided and it makes her heart swell knowing she is the one that makes that smile appear most often. “You do?”

She nods, “Yeah, I do.”

He steps back into the room, wrapping his arms around her and peppering her face with kisses while she giggles. “They’re going to love you.”

God, I hope so, she thinks as she gives him a goodbye kiss and gently pushes him out of her bedroom.

The sigh that escapes her as she falls back onto her bed is full of hope and nerves and so much infatuation for the man who she can still hear talking to her parents in the kitchen.

***

She hasn’t stopped playing with her promise ring since she sat down, a nervous tactic she has developed since he slipped the ring on her finger. She knows that he’s saving up for a new truck with an automatic transmission, but she really wishes he had it now so he could hold her hand instead of the stick shift. She feels safest when he’s holding her, like nothing could hurt her as long as he has his grip on her.

He’s told her countless times how much his parents will love her, how she is going to fit into the Halpert household so flawlessly, but as his childhood home gets closer, her heart falls deeper and deeper into her stomach. As soon as his truck is parked in his driveway, his hands are on hers and she looks up to meet his eyes. He brings her hand up to his lips, kissing her ring, then her knuckle, then the back of her hand before he closes his other hand overtop of hers and rests them on the center console.

“Beesly, they’re—”

“Going to love me, I know, I know. I just…” she sighs, leaning back against the headrest, “What if they don’t?”

“It doesn’t matter.” She scoffs a little and he squeezes her hand so she will look at him. “I’m serious. It doesn’t matter because I love you, and that’s what matters. It’s just going to be a quick dinner and as long as you can get through my dad’s dry humor and my brothers’ childish comebacks, you’ll be fine.”

She nods, her nerves slowly disappearing the longer her hand is in his, just like they always do.

She’s greeted with a chorus of warm hellos and tight hugs. Jim introduces her to everyone, keeping his hand on the small of her back so she can feel him next to her. His mother, Betsy, ushers her into the living room immediately, sitting her down on the couch with a glass of water and telling her to make herself comfortable as she finishes up dinner. She looks over at Jim who is only half paying attention to whatever conversation his father, Gerald, has swept him into as his sister Larissa starts her own conversation with Pam, and she can’t help but already start to feel at home.

Dinner is filled with casserole, wine, and bad jokes – mostly from Jim’s brothers – which she laughed at anyway, mostly because of Jim’s eye roll that accompanied every joke. She tries to help clean up afterwards, but Betsy refuses, telling her to just get ready for a game of Rummy.

Jim pulls her to the side and whispers, “We don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”

“No, no, I’m okay. Really.”

His hands slide from her shoulders to her hands, weaving his fingers through hers, “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Your family,” she glances over, watches Larissa help her mother with the dishes and Gerald gives Jim’s brother Pete a playful punch on the shoulder after saying something she couldn’t hear, then looks back at Jim, “they’re great. Plus,” she pulls on his hands so he steps closer to her, “I want to see the look on your face when I beat your ass in Rummy.”

His jaw drops, but his smile is still evident, “You’d better watch your mouth, my mom will wash it out with soap if she hears you use that kind of language.”

She smirks, “Maybe I should tell her what kind of language you used last night when you were—”

“Beesly.”

She giggles and leans up to peck his lips before letting go of his hands and going back into the living room.

Three rounds of Rummy later, where Pam won once and Gerald won twice but Jim came in last each time, Jim helps Pam into her cardigan as they stand by the front door. Goodbyes were exchanged, Pam and Larissa confirmed plans to go to the mall on Saturday, and Betsy told Pam to come back anytime, even if she didn’t bring Jim along.

Jim opens the car door for Pam and helps her in before closing it and going over to his side. Her arm is looped through his as he drives her home, her head resting on his shoulder.

“You were right.”

He glances down at her before looking back to the road, “Hmm?”

“They did love me.”

His laugh fills the truck, and now she knows that it sounds exactly like his father’s. As she leans up to kiss his cheek, she pictures a little boy with curly hair and a lopsided smile having the same laugh.

***

She loves doing puzzles with him. Going out to eat, watching a movie, a walk in the park, those were all fun and she would agree to do any of them whenever he asks, but her favorite is when they’re huddled over little pieces of cardboard, trying to figure out which ones connect. She picks out a new one to do each week, sometimes waiting for him to help her and sometimes just by herself. He has surprised her with a few as well, some for her birthday, others just because he knows she loves them. She always saves those to do with him, even if she knows that he’s going to get impatient and they’ll end up messing the puzzle up before it’s even finished.

But he brought over a new one today and he seems determined to finish it. She thinks it’s because the picture is of the same kind of truck that he drives, but she doesn’t care what the picture is if he’s actually going to help instead of distracting her (even though she never complains about that either).

He hands her another piece and she sorts it with the other red pieces to be placed later. They’ve got the edge done and a couple of other random pieces matched up, but they still have a while to go and he sighs.

“Why don’t you place them as you go?”

She grabs a couple of green pieces to put in their pile, “This is always how I do puzzles. You would know that if you didn’t get so distracted.”

His hand slides across her back, “Well, maybe you shouldn’t be so distracting.”

She smiles at him but takes his hand off of her, “Nuh-uh. You said we had to finish this one, so we’re finishing it.”

He gives a dramatic sigh which makes her giggle, and he goes back to sorting pieces. A couple of hours and a few snack breaks later, they’re down to the last ten pieces, Jim handing them to Pam to put in.

“You know why I chose this puzzle?”

“Because it looks like your truck?”

He hands her another piece, “Yeah, but it’s more than that.”

Her eyebrows furrow while trying to both find the spot the piece connects to and the reasoning behind the picture, “It’s your first truck?”

“No,” he chuckles, “it reminds me of you.”

She looks at him as he hands her two pieces, “Why?”

“Keep working and I’ll tell you.”

Her eyebrow raises but she turns back to the puzzle, connecting the two pieces as she waits for him to continue.

“It’s the truck that I picked you up in for our first date.”

He hands her another piece.

“It’s the truck that broke down on our way to the beach and we had to stay overnight at that sketchy hotel in Philly.”

And then another.

“It’s the truck that we said I love you to each other for the first time in.”

Two pieces.

“It’s the truck that picks you up from work, when we have ten minutes of only stolen glances until you come running out.”

Another piece.

“It’s the truck that took you to my parents’ house for the first time, where not only did my family fall in love with you, but I did too all over again.”

She has to wipe her eyes as he hands her the last piece, but when she puts it in, there’s still another piece missing. She looks around for it, wondering if it fell to the ground, but when she looks at Jim, he’s smiling.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the last piece, the words “Will you marry me?” written on the underside.

“And hopefully it’s the truck that we will drive to our honeymoon together in.” He bends down on one knee, opening a small box with a diamond ring in it. “Pam, will you marry me?”

She nods, her “Yes” coming out a little more choked and high-pitched than she meant to, but then he’s standing up and kissing her and then stepping back just enough to slide the ring onto her left hand.

His hands wrap back around her waist as he pulls her close once more. She can feel his smile against her lips and a small, excited giggle escapes her as her fingers get lost in his hair. His kisses move to her cheek, forehead, and nose before starting down her neck. Her giggles turn to little sighs and he looks up at her, his grin making her fall for him even more than she thought was possible. 

She pulls his face up to hers again, running her thumb across his cheek, and whispers, “Do me a favor.”

“Anything.”

“Remind me to thank my mother for making me go to that stupid ball a year ago.”