Round 38

I was going to tell William I loved him.

And I believed he loved me too. But I remembered the fear in his eyes, the hesitation, and I understood it now. Loving someone is terrifying, and I think perhaps William had loved me for a long, long time.

“His phone is dead, and he’s not at his apartment. I checked,” I admitted, releasing the makeshift blanket-cape to replace it with another. A cape I hadn’t used in ages.

I rushed off to my bedroom, and Neema followed.

“I can’t wait,” I said, rummaging through my closet, looking for the one thing he’d never be able to ignore me in. “I’m going to his office. Now.”

My mother clapped her hands together, and Neema shrieked.

“Let me fix this .” Neema gestured to my outfit.

“Hold that look of disgust until you see what I have planned.” I threw more articles of clothing on the floor until I found my original hobbit costume, which was still my favorite after all these years. “If he needs even more time, he’s going to have to turn me away in this .”

My mother squealed, and I shooed them out of my bedroom and changed, finding the costume much tighter than I remembered. Nevertheless, it was too late to back out now. Swinging open the door, I came face-to-face with Neema, my mother, and my father, who had started slow clapping.

“Oh, this is going to kill him.” Neema howled with laughter. “I didn’t think it would be this provocative.” She pulled me into her room and plugged in her curling iron.

Fifteen minutes later—a record short time for Neema—my curls were coily enough to challenge Frodo.

She stood back and wiped her brow. “My work here is done.”

I turned to my mom. “Any last words of advice or encouragement?”

“Rosie, you don’t need it. You got here all by yourself. Now go get him, tiger.”

Even after turning off Neema’s car, my heart hummed with nervous energy. I had googled the address for Thunderstruck’s offices and hoped there was only one in town. I opened the center console and retrieved my phone. I dialed William’s number but reached his voicemail.

It was for the better.

I needed to see him, and I needed him to see me. He could turn me away, but I needed him to know how I felt. How I’ve always felt.

I needed to see his face when he saw me in this costume.

It was my turn. My move.

But I still hadn’t figured out what I would say. Shrugging to myself, I decided I’d wing it and speak from the heart. How bad could it be?

Walking along the sidewalk in my hobbit socks, I reached the main door and rang the bell.

The last time I’d surprised a man in his office, it didn’t turn out too well for me, and this time I was wearing something far less appealing.

“Uh, hello?” A young man peeked at me through the glass doors.

“Hi, could you let me in? I’m here for the… uh… LAN.” I probably should have brought a laptop with me.

His eyebrows drew close as he scrutinized my costume.

I blew out a breath. “I’m a friend of William’s. William Ashdern?” I glanced down, reconsidering my outfit choice and location of confession.

“Follow me, Ms. Hobbit.” He grinned, clearly amused.

He led me to what I assumed was the cafeteria. Desks were spread around the room, and every surface was covered in laptops, desktop PCs, and cables. Movement to my left caught my eye, and I gazed upon one of the gamers’ livestreams projected against the wall.

“William!” the man called. “Can someone tell William there’s a sexy hobbit here to see him?”

My cheeks burned hot, and my heart raced in my chest.

A number of people looked up, gawking. A quiet hum of whispers spread through the room until those who hadn’t bothered looking up a moment before were soon eyeing me with the same stunned expression.

My insides were on fire. I thought I might be running a fever.

A red-haired man with black-rimmed glasses stood. “William’s not here. He left about fifteen minutes ago.”

“Where did he go?” I chewed on my lip in discomfort.

He shrugged. “Something about seeing a girl.”

Oh.

“Are you Rose?”

I nodded, and the man grinned, his cheeks reddening. “He left to see you.”

“Me? Are you sure?” My voice caught, and I curled my socked toes into their office rug.

He and a few others exchanged looks. “You’re all we’ve heard about for the last few months.”

Stunned and a little confused, I thanked the group of gamers and snuck out of the building, trying to keep myself together. Marching back to the car in a daze, I climbed in and reached for my phone.

A single text awaited me:

Neema: Come home. Now. He’s here.

My heart pounded in my chest as though it might break through to get home sooner. I put the car in gear and drove home.

To William.

When I reached my apartment, it was quieter than I’d imagined it would be. I expected the same madness of activity the apartment had seen the last few days. I’d anticipated the glitter. I’d prepared for ribbons.

But there was no part of me that had predicted I’d find William sitting alone on my couch with a laptop.

I stepped inside the apartment, and he jumped to his feet. Tossing the laptop aside, he straightened his black jeans, and I couldn’t help but notice the elvish scribble across his black T-shirt.

And there wasn’t a part of me that doubted it anymore. William was Gandalf. What felt like a lifetime had passed, but as I stood there in the same outfit, I could see him. I could see his dark eyes, his playful smile. I could feel the tether between us. Then and now.

A wide and slightly confused grin appeared on his face as he took in my clothing.

“I remember,” I choked out, frozen in the open doorway. “I remember.”

William’s mouth parted, and he took three quick steps, closing the space between us. His hand slipped under my chin and tilted it upward to meet his gaze. His breath came out in quick rasps. “Can I kiss you?”

My face barely broke into a smile before his mouth crashed into mine and I melted against him. His hands slid around my waist with ease, lifting me up off the ground and pulling me into his chest, where I could feel his heart raging against mine.

“Rose,” he choked out as he broke the kiss.

Hearing him say my name breathed life into me. One syllable. A common name. But on his lips, it was magic.

“William, I remember, I remember.” I kept repeating it over and over as though his roaming hands weren’t letting me know that he’d heard. Now I remembered everything. “That’s why you called me ‘hobbit’ when we first met,” I said, inhaling and allowing oxygen to compete with the fluttering in my chest. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Releasing me, he blew out a breath before spinning around and sliding his hand into his pocket. Straightening his shoulders, he turned back toward me clutching a small transparent bag in his fist.

Discomfort and uncertainty stretched over his features. “I wanted to tell you. There were so many times I wanted to tell you, but I’d waited so long I didn’t know how, and it became this big thing that I panicked about all the time…”

I clawed open his fingers and removed the little bag, glancing at the thing inside.

My heart stopped and then raced in my chest, knocking the air out of me.

Every part of me recognized the thing I now held in my palm.

A heart marker. My heart marker.

The very same one Gandalf stole so many years ago at Comic-Con.

William took a deep breath. “You made a joke about how rude I was for calling you a hobbit, and I realized you didn’t recognize me—or you didn’t want to, because Patrick was right there. But I figured it was the latter because you never called after Comic-Con.”

Vulnerability crept into William’s voice, onto his handsome features and into his soft, inviting posture. “I waited. I waited for this girl I fell in love with in the space of a few hours. This girl that exuded everything I needed, all packaged in a tiny hobbit costume.” He ran a hand through his hair and turned away from me. “I waited for you to call, and you never did. So I thought I’d spare us the embarrassment.” Turning to face me now, he chewed on his bottom lip. “You also had a boyfriend… and then when you didn’t, Shaun told me to stay away from you.”

I turned the heart over in my hand, unable to process any of this. “I lost Gandalf’s… your… number before I got home.”

William fell onto the couch.

“It was gone,” I stammered. “I searched every pocket in my bag, but your number was gone.”

Leaning forward, he grabbed my wrist and guided me toward him. “But you wanted to call me?” His voice was almost inaudible.

I nodded. “I made my mom drive back. I made her help me search the parking lot because the venue was closed. The pamphlet you’d written it on was gone. I must have accidentally thrown it into the trash or it fell out of my bag. I don’t know. It disappeared.” I turned the heart around in my hand. Then, stepping between his knees, I held it out to him.

“Why are you giving this to me?”

I laughed as the words poured out of me. “Because you’ve had my heart all along.”

“That’s really cheesy.” He smiled and took the marker, slipping it back into his pocket. “But I’ll take it.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come up with anything better.” I narrowed my eyes. “I’m busy processing all of this.”

He pulled me onto his lap and kissed me, his hand gripping the back of my neck, deepening the kiss in a way that made my entire body clench and flutter. The memory of Gandalf—of William—kissing me while I wore this exact hobbit costume sent me into a state of euphoria.

“I can’t believe you never realized,” he whispered, his eyes holding mine.

I couldn’t understand either. I wrapped my arms around his neck and studied his features—his nose, his lips, his eyes—while I pictured my Gandalf.

“You wore a wig and a beard!” I teased. “And you never gave me your name.”

“I wanted to plant intrigue. I thought I was very cool at that age.” His dimple emerged, deep and on show just for me.

“I can’t believe this,” I said, giggling and thinking I may never stop.

“And I can’t believe you’re wearing this.” He kissed the tip of my nose.

“I also can’t believe I went to your office wearing a hobbit costume that barely fits.”

“Seriously?” William laughed, his chest vibrating against me, and I pushed closer. “Why did you come looking for me?”

“Why did you come looking for me?” I asked.

“I came begging. Don’t marry Patrick.” His voice was low and traveled to my very core. His dark eyes met mine as he repeated himself, this time enunciating each word. “Please don’t marry Patrick.”

“I already said no,” I whispered.

“He’s not perfect.” William lifted a shaky hand to my chin and tilted my face until I had no choice but to look at him. “You’re perfect, Rose. You’re the only one who’s perfect, and he doesn’t deserve you.”

“And you do?” My heart beat hard in my chest.

Please say yes.

William shook his head. “No.”

My stomach twisted. If William hadn’t been holding me firmly, I’d have turned away.

“No, I’m far from perfect. But, if you let me, I’ll try.” He leaned down, his nose brushing against mine. “I’ve been trying, and I wanted to make sure that I could be everything you wanted and deserved.” His breath shook against my skin. “But I needed the time. And I wanted to prove to you, to me, to Shaun, that I am worthy of you and your love, Rose.”

Unable to resist him any longer, I tilted my head up and captured his mouth with my own.

Sparks flew through me as our lips met, our souls reconnecting.

Something I’d dreamed of.

“Of course you’re worthy.” My breath was shaking, making it hard to talk, so I kissed him instead.

“I planned a whole presentation,” he said, breaking away from the kiss. “But now you’re dressed as the sexiest hobbit, and I’ll admit, I’m a bit distracted by it.”

“What do you mean? This is how I usually dress.” I lifted my hands over my hot cheeks and giggled.

William laughed. Oh goodness—that laugh. I’d missed it so much.

“Your turn. Why’d you go looking for me tonight? Is it because you remembered?” He bit on his bottom lip.

“Or…?”

“I came begging too.”

“Begging?” His lips pressed against my cheek and then slowly traveled along my jaw, pausing on the tiny mole before finding the lobe of my ear.

“I can’t think clearly when your lips are touching me.” I gasped as he nibbled at my ear.

Smiling against my skin, he slid his mouth back to mine. His voice thick and low against my lips, he said, “I need to know why you’re in this costume, Rose.”

I giggled, and he let out a frustrated groan.

All the blood rushed to my face as the next words fell out of me with ease, without fear, without wondering whether I was making a mistake. “I wanted to beg you to love me, William. Love me like I know I love you.”

He leaned his forehead against mine, taking a moment before speaking. “You love me?”

I nodded. “I love you,” I said and then said it again, enjoying how his face relaxed. “I love you so much, William. I have no doubt that you are my one chance at true love. Tell me you love me too?”

“Obviously, I love you. I have been loving you…” He lifted his mouth and kissed my forehead before pulling away a few inches and staring down at me. “Rose, I haven’t stopped loving you, and I never will.”