His face is embarrassed. “Don’t turn it into a thing.”

I catch his arm when he tries to turn away. “Love Story. Like…our story?”

Reece scratches his cheek, before finally meeting my eyes. “Is it dumb? It just came to me, and it seemed…fitting.”

“Are you kidding me? It’s pretty much the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”

His eyes light up, and I can tell he’s pleased by my reaction. “I was going to name it Endgame, but…”

“But what?” I say as we walk hand in hand toward the car (a secondhand Toyota sedan, since poor Horny is needing more and more naps these days).

“Well, because much as I love my work, I realized that a bottle of wine was never going to be my endgame,” he says.

“No? What is?” I ask, climbing into the car as he opens the passenger side for me. “Reece?” I prod, when he doesn’t reply.

Instead of answering, he ushers me in, gives me a mysterious smile, and shuts the door.

I bite my lip, trying desperately to get a grip on my euphoric smile before he opens the driver’s-side door.

I’m pretty sure Reece’s real endgame has to do with the diamond ring I spotted in his sock drawer.

And I want that ring on my fourth finger so bad, I’m practically levitating.

But, hey, I can be patient. If our story has taught me anything, it’s that the wait is always worth it.