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“Won’t happen,” he stated. “You’re stuck with me now.”
She smiled. “I can think of worse things.”
The DJ cleared his throat. “And now it starts. Ten, nine, eight, seven…”
Isaiah pulled her closer and brushed his nose against hers. “Love you, Quin.”
“Love you, too. God, we can be so soppy, can’t we?”
“I can live with that.”
“Same here.”
Cheers rang out and party poppers went off.
His mouth curved. “Happy New Year, baby.”
She kissed him hard. “Happy New Year.”
