Could this be real?

We were snuggling in bed, drunk off beer (and love), still high from our night rocking out to our favorite 80s hairband cover, Metalhead.

"I want to see you tomorrow," the biker whispered.

"It is tomorrow." I answered. Why am I a smartass at such a sweet moment?

"Come over for dinner. I want to talk to you about something."

"Can you tell me now?"

"No. You have to come over."

Oh God, I thought. I'll wonder all day what in the heck he needs to tell me and with my wild imagination by 8:00 that night I'll have completely convinced myself that his real name is Orton, he's married with four children and is moving back to Arkansas to be with them.

Either that, or he is pregnant.

So the evening comes... We eat, sit in the hot tub, chat with his brother, and I swear to God, every unnecessary thing you can possibly do in one evening. Finally, we are sitting on the couch, vaguely watching a movie between kisses and he says "Do you want to know what I wanted to talk to you about?"

Good God, are you kidding me?

Kiss. "Yes." Kiss.

"I want to be with you." Kiss. "Only you." Kiss.

I, smiling uncontrollably between kisses, cannot even speak.

He pulls his head back... "So? Do you want to be with me?"

I throw my arms around him. Little does he know, that along with my arms and body, I am throwing my heart and hopes into his hands.