to get the words out. It was time to tell herthat he didnât want to wonder anymore. He didnât want to wonder exactly where they stood or where they were going. He wanted the whole thingâthe entire package. Jake and Gaia. Boyfriend and girlfriend. Completely committed and together. Fighting, walking, eating, sleeping. Together.
And sex. Yes, he wanted that. He wanted that very badly. But the point hereâthe real point here . . . was love.
Jake was in love with her. And he simply needed to know that she was in love with him. Which he was very much starting to believe she was.
Or maybe she wasnât? She was so goddamn awkward, serious, and complicated, he still honestly wasnât sure. âThis is my boyfriend, Jake.â Those were the simple words he wanted to hear coming out of Gaiaâs mouth. But did she want it or not? The only way to know was to ask. To ask her point-blank.
So why had he spent the last who-knows-how-many hours with her walking and hanging out all over the Village, doing everything but? Theyâd talked about every other conceivable topic. Theyâd eaten hot dogs from Grayâs and fake ice cream. She had rested in his lap on park benches and given him light kisses on the stoops of brownstones. Sheâd held his hand almost the entire time theyâd walked, which, from what Jake understood, was a pretty un-Gaia-like thing to do. Of course, they were supposed to be heading up to her Seventy-second Street apartment to pack upall her things and move her down to that boarding-house, but neither one of them had really wanted to get to that. It seemed like theyâd both just wanted the evening to go on like this for as long as humanly possible, without ever calling it a night.
But he still hadnât asked her. He still hadnât found the right moment to lay it on the line. And it was only getting darker and darker. And he was only starting to feel more and more like a chicken. Less and less like a man.
And as it got on past eight, they had found themselves coming nearly full circle as they strolled onto the darkened pavement of Washington Square Park. Which was fine with Jake. Because it somehow seemed like the most appropriate place to ask. It was her place, Jake knew that. It sort of represented her somehow. Urban and beautiful. Gorgeously light when it was light and incredibly dark when it was dark. And maybe now Washington Square Park could be the place Jake and Gaia remembered as the exact spot where they officially started going out.
Jake finally shook off his pathetic hesitancy and grabbed hold of Gaiaâs arms under a huge overhanging tree, planting her still on the ground so he could look straight into her eyes and cut the crap.
âGaia.â
âJesus, what?â Gaiaâs eyes widened with surprise at the force of Jakeâs hands around her arms. Jake loosened his grip a bit. But not much. This was too important.
âGaia, listen,â he said quietly. âI donât know whatâs wrong with me here. Iâm avoiding my ass off. So just listen.â
âJakeââ
âNo, listen.â The wind had kicked up through the park, carrying that uniquely New York sound that combined distant traffic and a far-off industrial whir with the rustling leaves of the trees. The huge expanse of white noise surrounding them only made their voices seem closer.
âYou know,â Jake said, âevery day Iâm zoning out completely through all my morning classes, just staring at the clock. I burn freaking holes in that thing, trying to force the hands to hit twelve so I can break for that stupid cafeteria and find you.â
âI know,â she said, puffing out an embarrassed little laugh. âMe too. Itâs sick, isnât it?â
âNo, itâs not sick. Thereâs nothing sick about it. The same way thereâs nothing sick about the way I want to find you after school. And stay