Wildest Dreams

Chapter 37

The walk to the restaurant isn't far, but we take our time. His legs are significantly longer than mine, so I know it must be frustrating for him to have to slow down so I can keep up, but he doesn't complain. As we walk, he tells me facts about the history of buildings and other odd things that I find fascinating.

When we reach the restaurant, Spencer walks up to the hostess and puts in a name. When he returns, he informs me that the wait will only be about ten minutes.

We sit on the bench along the side of the building and watch the people pass by. Here is nothing like my hometown. I have seen all kinds of people, and none of them look the same. I can't help but feel a sense of belonging, and maybe that's from the city, or maybe it's from the man at my side.

"Table for Doctor and Mrs. Reid?" the hostess calls.

Spencer grins and stands from the bench before he pulls me up by my arms. We follow the woman into the busy restaurant, but as we walk, it gets significantly quieter.

We end up in a secluded part of the restaurant with only a few other tables in the area. We take our seats and the hostess places our menus in front of us. She leaves us alone to pick out our food and drinks after telling us a server will be by shortly to take our orders.

"What's good here?" I ask.

"Not sure. I've never been here before," he says, not looking up from his menu.

"But you talked about it like you have," I laugh. He peeks at me over the plastic pages of his menu which makes me laugh more.

"What can I say, I do everything with confidence," he laughs at his own self-deprecating joke.

The server walks up to the table, interrupting our conversation by asking for our orders.

"I'll have the Tandoori Chicken with a Sprite," Spencer says.

"And for the lady?"

"I'll have the baked mac and cheese with a strawberry lemonade, please," I say, smiling at them.

They collect our menus and leave to put our order in. When we are alone again, Spencer reaches across the table and takes my dominant wrist in his hand. Instead of holding it like I expected, he opens my palm and lays it face-up on the table. He traces the lines of my hand and I have to keep myself from laughing.

"Based on your headline, you're adventurous and you like to take chances. Is that true?" I nod. "Your lifeline is short, which means that you put others' needs before your own and your heart line means you're emotionally guarded."

"I didn't know you did palm readings."

"There's a lot you don't know about me," he grins.

"I intend to find out."

The server walks up with a tray of our drinks and a loaf of bread with individually wrapped butter. We thank them and they inform us that our meals should be out shortly.

I tear open the wrapper of my straw and put my lips around the exposed end and blow, sending the paper flying at Spencer. It doesn't hit him, instead, it flies over his right shoulder and lands on the table behind us. I stifle my laughter and duck my head in embarrassment.

"Y/n!" Spencer playfully chastises.

"I was aiming for you."

He tuts as he opens his own straw like a responsible adult and sips from his soda. I realize I am staring at him when he makes a confused face.

"What?" he says from around the plastic.

"You're pretty."

His cheeks tint pink and he tries to brush his hair behind his ear, but it's too short to stay tucked.

"Thanks."

Our meal comes and we sit in comfortable silence as we eat. Not exactly wanting to spit on him, I find it to be for the best.

I put my fork on the edge of my plate while I take a drink and I look up at Spencer to find him gripping the wrist of his left hand that has a butter knife that appears to be floating behind it. When he notices he has my attention, he plays it up more by making a surprised face and acting shocked.

"Dinner table magic?" I snort, "You're a dork."

"Hey," he pouts, putting the knife down, "If I know anything, it's that magic tricks always impress women."

"Says who?"

"Um," he hums, pretending to think, "try every woman I have ever slept with."

I laugh into my hand and after Spencer drops his offended act, he joins in. His laugh is sweet and goofy and I wish I could make it my ringtone.

"I'm so happy I get to see you like this," Spencer says, suddenly more serious.

"What do you mean?"

"The last time I saw you is still burned in the back of my mind. Now, whenever I think of you, I'll see this. You're happy and gorgeous as ever," he confesses.

My heart melts at that, and I move my plate to the side so I can reach across the table to hold his hand. I bring his hand to my lips as he did to mine earlier. I drag my lower lip over his knuckles and I figure that he must be ticklish based on the way he strains to keep still.

"We should get married," he says.

I immediately drop his hand as it burned and it falls gracelessly onto the table. An expression of panic flashes over his face, but he takes a deep breath and begins to explain.

"I'm in love with you, Y/n, and you love me. There's no reason we shouldn't."

"But we barely know each other. What if we find out we're not compatible or I discover some deep dark secret you're hiding?" I try to joke.

"But what if we find out that we really are meant for each other? We met in a shared dream, and you're worried about getting married too soon!" he scoffs, "I get shot at for a living and you were framed for murder by your former best friend. There's no telling what could happen in the future, but I know that if I die without being able to call you mine, I'm going to come back to haunt you."

I'm quiet for a moment while I think. Spencer's right, the future is unpredictable and our situation is certainly unusual, so what's the issue with being married. It may not work out, but I also may have found my soulmate.

"Let's do it," I say.

His mouth falls agape and he is shell shocked for a second before my words process. His face splits into a giddy grin and his eyes turn slightly glassy.

"Shit, I need to buy you a ring. I don't really have the money for that right now, but I could sell some stuff when we get home," he thinks out loud.

"Spencer," I try to get his attention.

"If we get on the plane now, we can probably make it home by morning and-"

"Spencer!"

He snaps out of his trance and looks up at me while digging his teeth into his bottom lip nervously.

I reach across the table and take his straw wrapper and start twisting it. I make it into a circle and I swipe my finger through the condensation on my glass and wet the two ends of the paper so they will stick together. I slide out of the booth and I kneel on the slightly sticky floor in front of Spencer.

"I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings, Spencer. I don't care about a wedding or anything official. I just want you and I want to celebrate our love."

A tear streams down his face and he quickly wipes it away before holding out his finger so I can slide the ring onto it. He laughs softly as he looks at it, then holds his hand out to help me up.

He stands in front of me and our chests are touching. He cups my jaw and kisses me gently. It's soft and sweet and it's filled with months of wishing, weeks of longing and behind it all: years of pain.

"Where are we going next, Dr. Reid?" I whisper against his lips.

"Doesn't matter. As long as I'm with you, I'm happy."