pinky promise - jamie tartt

‟ THIS IS THE RESULT „

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"And then Coach wanted me to be me."

"I don't understand how that's a bad thing, Jamie." Tate teased as she unlocked the front door to his house with the keys he had given her months before he even confessed his feelings to her. "I like it when you are you."

"Yeah, but," He continued to complain as he followed her into the house, shutting the door with his foot as his arms were full with bags of groceries. "Everyone else got to be someone else. Try somethin' new, y'know? Felt like I was bein' left out a bit."

"I'm sorry, then." She recognized his feelings, pouting out her bottom lip slightly. "I don't think Ted did it on purpose, though. Maybe—"

Her suggestion of try talking to Ted disappeared into thin air as she rounded the corner into the kitchen, spotting a vase she had never seen before filled to bursting with white lilies on the island counter.

"What's this?" Tate asked, brows knitted in confusion as she placed her grocery bags on the ground, momentarily forgotten.

"Oh! Forgot I ran out between trainings and got them for you." Jamie grinned, setting the bags he held down, too. "Surprise, babe."

"What for?" Tate turned to face Jamie, a seed a dread planting itself in the pit of her stomach, though she knew she had no reason to worry. He shrugged, his grin still twisting his face into something so handsome she could hardly stand it.

"No reason." He reached out a hand to trace the pad of his forefinger delicately across a petal. Tate's eyes tracked his movement, in disbelief that he had gone out of his way to get her flowers just because and not to apologize for some shitty argument he started or for storming out on her—like Callum had done, many, many, times. "Well, I guess 'cause I love you, and I know you love lilies, and I wanted our house to have things that you love in it instead of just all me shit."

Tate's brain short-circuited, because Jamie had said our house so, so casually her mind nearly glossed over the detail.

Her face must have shown her shock, or Jamie could read her mind, and neither option would have been too surprising to Tate, because his face scrunched in nerves suddenly and his hands started to fiddle with the hem of his shirt.

"Unless you wanna look at other places we can move into? I know it's a bit like a bachelor pad, though I ain't ever really used it like one since coming back to Richmond and all. Though—" Tate kissed him quickly to stop his rambling, her grin making it all a little hard to do so.

"First, you don't realize that we're dating for weeks. And now you forget to even ask me to move in with you?" She taunted, knotting her hands in the fabric of his sweatshirt, so incredibly endeared to him that she didn't want him to leave.

"Fuck, I just thought that, well, y'know, since you stay here pretty much every night, and all that, that you had just... I dunno, moved in." Jamie's hands fell to her waist as he once more started to ramble on, nervousness a sight so foreign to his features.

"Jamie," She said his name, and the sound of it on her tongue was enough to get him to stop. "I love you. I love this house. And I would love to move in with you."

Jamie smiled, so wide and bright, that Tate felt it in her very soul.

"Let's go to your apartment and get the rest of your stuff, yeah?" He suggested, nodding his head as he spoke, and Tate pinched his side gently as she kissed him.

"First let's put away the groceries, baby. I wanna hear about how Isaac managed to break Higgins' office window."

「☺ ☺ ☺ 」