Dimming the lights to our apartment’s living room, I gave the room a once-over. Music was playing, the mood lighting was set, and everything looked perfect. Despite that, I’d never been so nervous in my entire fucking life. I felt like I’d mainlined ten espressos and followed it with some lines of cocaine.
Objectively, it made no sense. Thayer and I had been living together for the better part of the past year, acting like a married couple for all intents and purposes besides the paperwork behind it. Hell, Thayer was already wearing an engagement ring. Everything was unbelievably perfect between us, from the daily routines we’d fallen into, to the odd silly squabble that resulted in hot makeup sex. I was pretty sure she didn’t care about coasters nearly as much as she pretended to, but when it meant we ended up naked, I was going to keep forgetting to use them.
But despite all of that, we hadn’t set a date to take that next step. Hadn’t talked much about marriage at all in the past few weeks, actually, because she’d recently started her MBA program and had been adjusting to classes and studying again. While I knew she was a brilliant student, her perfectionist ways meant she had been more than a little stressed, even though she was crushing everything so far—just like I’d said she would.
Needless to say, she’d been preoccupied lately and wouldn’t be expecting this, which meant it was either brilliant or terrible timing. And I was about to find out which.
After readjusting the candles on the counter for the tenth time in as many minutes, I realized I was on the verge of having a nervous breakdown and decided to crack a beer. Three-quarters of the way into it, I was a little less riled up, then the lock rattled, followed by the door swinging open and slamming shut in the hall. Go time. My nerves surged again, and I quickly finished off the rest of the bottle, setting it aside.
I could do this. I pitched venture capitalists. Spoke at conferences. Had the IRS breathing down my back until not too long ago. Hell, I’d been deposed in lawsuits before. Proposing was no big deal, right?
Wrong. It was a huge deal, especially when I thought I never would. Finding someone who made me change my mind about so many things was like winning the lottery; a one in a million win, and I didn’t want to screw it up.
Keys clinked in the dish, footsteps echoing, and Thayer appeared in the doorway. She was wearing a dark green velvet dress that tied in the back with her hair loose around her shoulders, and she looked like a present I wanted to unwrap. Hopefully, I would be doing that in a little while, but I had something else to do first.
Because she also looked like the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, and I wanted to make that official.
Her eyes widened in surprise as they landed on me, then scanned the darkened living room, complete with a handful of decorations on the wall and a portable color-changing light. It was a rough approximation of what our junior year homecoming looked like; or at least, as close as I could stomach without getting too cheesy. I may have been walking that line already, but I was going to roll with it.
“Hey.” Thayer’s mouth pulled into a small smile. She took a few steps closer, gesturing to the room. “What’s all this?”
“I owe you some slow dances,” I said, taking her in my arms. “About nine years’ worth.”
Her smile broadened, and I knew I’d made the right choice with the set-up. “This certainly is a nice surprise after a long day of financial analysis and trying not to strangle my group project partners.”
“Stick to strangling me. That way you can avoid jail.”
“Good call,” she murmured, resting her head on my shoulder, and nestling closer to me. I never could get over how perfectly she fit in my arms, or how right it made everything else feel when she was. I could be having the biggest garbage fire day ever, and I’d instantly be able to forget about it when I came home and saw her face.
We pivoted a turn along the makeshift dance floor and her perfume drifted over; it was spicy and sweet, something like cinnamon and vanilla, and entirely edible. Like her. Which was also something I was planning to do later when I…
Fuck. Focus, Bradford.
In the background, the song changed. It was one we’d listened to obsessively on the flight to Italy for our school trip. Or Thayer had, rather, while I’d pretended to hate it because my insecure fifteen-year-old self thought it would seem uncool for a guy to like a slow song. And because it made me feel a little outed when it came to my feelings for her.
Her eyes brightened. “Oh my God, I remember this song. You said you hated it because it was too…what was it?” She pursed her berry-painted lips. “Sappy.”
“Maybe I said that because it made me feel called out for having a massive crush on you.”
“Yeah, right.” But a tiny flush appeared on her cheeks in the dim light.
I winked at her. “True story. By the way, we have reservations at Alloy in two hours.”
Also known as her favorite restaurant in the entire world. We hadn’t been there in a few months, mostly because I’d been intentionally avoiding it. I even pretended it was booked up one night not too long ago, which had made me feel guilty, but it was for a good cause. I wanted it to be special when we did go there again.
“Alloy?” Her brows knit together. “What’s the occasion?”
“Acing your first set of exams,” I said. “Plus, maybe one more thing.” I took her left hand in both of mine, turning the band of her engagement ring from side to side between my fingers. “Lately, I’ve been thinking this looks a little bare, like something is missing.”
“Is that so?”
“Definitely.” Reaching into my pocket, my fingers glanced upon the delicate band with pave diamonds set on all three sides. I pulled it out and slid it onto her left finger, placing it on top of the engagement ring. Technically, I knew it put the rings in the wrong order since the wedding band should have been first, but it was the best I could do while trying to be smooth—and I was trying pretty fucking hard. “See? I was right.”
Her gaze dropped to her hand for a beat, then she looked up at me and her lips curled into a smile. “Is this a…”
“Wedding band? Sure is.” I leaned closer, capturing her mouth in a kiss. Her lips parted and she melted against me, kissing me back, and digging her fingertips into my shoulders. Before I knew it, I started to get a little lost in her and realized I hadn’t actually popped the question. Catching myself, I pulled back, mouth hovering over her lips.
“Marry me,” I said. “I’ll spend the rest of our lives making you glad you did.”
“Yes.” She bit back a grin, nodding. “Of course.”
Whoosh. All the tension I’d been holding left my body with those three simple letters. Between Thayer back in school and my stressful, sometimes volatile self-employment situation, I had no idea what the future held for us, but it was a future we would have together, and that was all that mattered.
“But I still don’t want a big wedding,” Thayer added, a hint of apprehension appearing on her face.
“Me neither. Let’s elope on a beach somewhere, just you and me. I want to set a date, though. Tonight, over dinner.”
“Are you sure you’re okay with eloping? What about your family?”
I laughed, pivoting her a quarter turn. “What about yours?”
“Elopement it is,” Thayer said. “How’s next month? Turks and Caicos? Maybe we can have a small party when we get back.”
Ducking my head, I kissed her again. “Done. Let’s book a flight.”
