“I can’t. I had a dream.”
“Everything okay?” I ask sleepily.
“It was a revelation.” He sounds so prophetic.
I open my eyes and tilt my head in question when he continues, “You said, ‘We don’t get to choose our family. We only get to choose who we love.’ You were wrong.”
I blink my eyes, wondering if I’m still asleep because those words sound very familiar, like I’ve heard them before. I definitely didn’t say them to him though. It doesn’t make sense to my sleep-fogged brain.
Before I can ask for clarification, he continues again, “I didn’t choose to love you. This love chose me. It hit me like a ton of bricks. It seeped into my skin every second since until my entire body was consumed. It’s brilliant and scary as hell.”
My eyes open wide as I realize what he’s doing. These are my words. Not from my mouth. They’re words from one of my books, and he’s reciting them back to me.
Sitting up, I stare at him, bewildered. “How do you have my quotes memorized like that?”
His mega-watt grin shines as he takes a step toward the bed.
“I choose you. I want a life with you. I want you by my side. I want to live this life with you. Fight with you. Make love to you. Create life with you,” he says with a soulful purpose to his words.
I tilt my head, confused and honored at the same time when something dawns on me, making me gasp and cover my mouth in surprise.
My heart stops as everything he said sinks in. That was the speech my hero gave in one of my books before he proposed to the heroine.
I shake my head and look down at the duvet, convinced I’m misreading the situation when I realize the other two lines he recited are from other proposal scenes in my books.
“Jake,” I say, hesitantly. “What are you doing?”
My breath hitches because my heart is racing wildly, surprising me with how badly it wants my hunch to be true.
He sits down on the bed beside me, leans in, and whispers, “I choose you for eternity.”
Our lips meet and I absolutely melt into him.
My lids are still hooded as he pulls back and adds, “Now, get up. I have a day planned for us.”
“But—”
He places his finger over my mouth, silencing me and shaking his head. “Let’s get ready first.”
I fling off the sheets and rush to the bathroom, ready to get dressed for the day, glad I brought a dress I know he loves.
My hair is blown out, and I add a touch of lipstick. Once I have my shoes on, I’m ready to go. I stand by the door with a smile on my face, waiting to see what he says, but he only grabs my hand and leads me out of the room.
After we hop in the car, he heads to the Milwaukee Art Museum as it’s somewhere he said he wanted to see while we were in town. We tour the displays and enjoy the morning of enrichment and each other’s company. I almost forget his reciting of my fictional proposals as we stroll down the halls.
Once we’re walking out of the museum, hand in hand, he turns to me and says, “I am wildly, crazily, passionately in love with you. I don’t just love you. I live for you.”
I smile big as he pauses and holds out his free hand, where I see he has notes written on a tiny piece of paper. I recognize the words to this one immediately. It’s from my friends-to-lovers romance.
When he looks back to me, it’s with a smile when he sees my face, and I know what he’s doing. It doesn’t stop him though.
“You’re the only woman I have ever and will ever love. I lost you once, and I will never lose you again. That’s why I’m not asking; I’m telling you.”
My heart squeezes as I wait for the next words because, in the book, they were, Will you marry me?
He leans in to kiss me sweetly, and when he pulls back, he says, “I’m telling you, I love you.”
I squint my eyes at him, and he lets out a small chuckle before pulling my hand as he steps away and heads back to the car. I play with the hem of my dress and smash my lips, wondering what on earth he’s up to.
He drives to our next place, a cute little diner, where we order at a counter and then make our way to a table in the corner.
I stare at him, waiting for whatever he’s going to say next, but he just goes about with his day, acting like he hasn’t recited two proposals from my books. Nope, he talks about the museum and what he liked the most as well as the signing and how amazed he was with the attendance and how many books I’d sold.
I’m dying here, waiting for him to finish his thought, and I know he’s enjoying keeping me on the line like this.
We eat our food, and I try not to think about what’s going on in his mind, but it’s killing me on the inside.
As we walk to the car after lunch, he stops at my door and pushes me up against it. When he leans down to kiss me, my heart pounds, and my knees go weak. He holds me up, deepening our kiss, and I melt in his arms.
As he pulls back, he places his finger on my cheek as he says, “I never thought love was in the cards for me. The idea of having a partner in life was so foreign to me that I never even considered the option. My life was complete until you came along.”
I smile brightly. This one’s from my single-dad rock-star book.
“You are more than a partner though. You’ve become my other half—the other half
