Meant To Be (Cash Wheeler x Reader)

Chapter Twelve

"Come on, I know you loved it. Just admit it, you had fun!" Cash was grinning from ear to ear as he threw his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side.
"I had fun because you had fun, that's all." You answered, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.
"Doesn't matter, you still had fun!"

He was right, though. You had way more fun than you had expected. For two weeks straight, you told him he should go with someone else. You'd just ruin all his fun. However, he never dropped the topic and said it was his birthday gift, and he wanted you to go to the concert with him - no one else. Even though you hated Country music. You knew you had lost the battle when he started using more than just his words in order to persuade you. No, he eventually started to use his charm. So one morning, after one especially pleasant night, right before you had to go to the arena to get the final preparations done for that day's round of interviews, he laid in the hotel bed, eyes only half lid, morning voice still groggy. "Darlin, I know I am annoying you, but this will be the last time, I promise. Please, please come see Orville Peck with me." You wanted to decline again, but when you turned around to look at him, lying in bed, half naked, with that look on his face, you knew you lost. There he was, your very manly man, with puppy dog eyes and the sweetest pout you had ever seen. He looked so adorable, like a five year old begging for candy. You couldn't possibly say no to that.
You moved over to him while putting in your earrings and leaned down. "Alright, baby, I'll go with you. But don't get bitter if I ruin your evening. You have been warned." Then you bopped him on the nose and placed a tender kiss on his lips. "I'll see you later, baby."
He let out a little sigh and smiled up at you before mumbling goodbye and turning to lay on his side. When you left, you turned around once more and just looked at him clinging onto the blanket, softly nuzzling into it.
He was gonna be the death of you, but what better way to go, really.

This was how you ended up attending your first - and hopefully last - Country concert of your life. And yes, you had fun, because you enjoyed seeing Cash happy. He sang along to all the songs, and held you close everytime a slow love song started. The way he looked at you sent shivers down your back: that goddamn smile that took your breath away a few months ago, in the cafeteria, still held the same spell on you. It was all you ever needed.

When the two of you walked over to his car, he still hummed his favorite song, only stopping to face you and kiss you once more. "Thank you, Darlin. Tonight was wonderful. And hey, look, I even got us matching shirts from the merch stand so we can always remember this glorious night!" He laughed at his own comment, and it was music to your ears. You moved closer and closer to him, until he was trapped between his car and your body. Your first impulse was to leave a smart remark about the shirts, but when you saw his cheeks turning a soft shade of pink, you knew you didn't want to ruin this moment. So instead, you placed both your hands on his shoulders and kissed him. Gentle at first, but soon it turned into a full make out session. You felt like two teenagers, trying to use their time right before they had to go back to their parents' houses. When you broke away from him due to lack of oxygen, you admired his features: lips slightly swollen, cheeks now a bright pink, a serene smile. That's when you knew this was it - the right moment. Your hands moved up to his neck, thumbs rubbing soothing circles right underneath his ears.
"I love you, Cash." The words fell from your lips as if you had said them a thousand times before. And you had, in your head at least.

He looked at you, breathing heavily, because of the kissing before or your confession right now, you couldn't tell. You also couldn't tell what he was thinking. He opened his mouth, only to close it a second later. When he finally regained his composure, he started, weakly.
"Y/N...I..." his voice trailed off again, unable for form a proper sentence. He didn't know what he wanted to say, so he closed his mouth again and swallowed heavily. Nothing else left his lips after that.