Simon wanted a relationship with her, which was almost as astounding as the way he looked—sincere and nervous as all get out. She wished she could take a picture and text it to Mel. Not that she was reveling in his discomfort or anything, but Mel had always thought her brother was incapable of being nervous. She called him Super Simon—able to leap tall buildings in a single bound, date any woman he wanted, and break hearts without ever having his touched. And until now, Elyse had believed it too. “I’m not asking you to marry me, Fitz. I’m just asking you to give us a chance. I’m asking you to be mine.” Sometimes, like now, he’d look at her as if he really remembered her, as if he knew their history, but then the look would disappear. Once he put all the pieces together and realized who she was, it would be either really good, or really bad. And the way her luck ran, she’d put her money on bad, really, really bad. Still, she’d come this far, why end it now?
