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“Yes, but then we’d be expected to actually get married, sooner or later.” I laugh, my heart pounding in my throat and so many emotions swirling inside me that I’m not sure what to feel. “You do realize that, right?”
He shrugs, and hurt flickers across his face. “You say that like it’s the craziest thing you’ve ever heard.”
“It’s pretty crazy,” I say. “We’ve only been dating two weeks. My family would flip out. Aria can get away with stuff like that, but I really can’t.”
Nick’s arms slide from my waist as he takes a step back, his focus dropping to the grass by the curb. “Right. You’re right. Baby steps.”
“Or toddler steps at least. Just definitely no sprinting,” I say, trying to inject some humor into the moment and…failing.
Nick looks even more awkward and embarrassed than he did before.
“Hey, listen,” I say, taking his hand and holding on tight. “I meant what I said. I love you, and I’d be lying if I said the thought of us maybe ending up together together hasn’t crossed my mind, but I mean…you won’t even tattoo me until we’ve been together for six months.”
“A tattoo is forever,” Nick says, lifting his gaze to mine. “Sometimes even laser treatments won’t get rid of them completely.”
“Well, marriage is forever, too,” I say. “At least I want mine to be.”
“Me, too.” He threads his fingers through mine. “I know I’m not the most traditional person in a lot of ways, but I only want to tie the knot one time. And just so you know, I’ve never even considered that kind of thing with anyone else. Ever. Not even close, no matter how long we’d been dating.”
“Not even Sarah Beth?”
“No one,” he confirms. “Honestly, I wasn’t even sure I wanted to get married, but…it doesn’t feel scary to think about that kind of life with you. What your sister said didn’t spook me. It made me…excited.” He squeezes my hand. “I like the idea of waking up next to you every day.”
“For the rest of your life?” I ask, my pulse thundering now.
Nick’s tongue slips out to dampen his lips a little nervously, which is both endearing and sexy as heck at the same time. “Yeah. I think so.”
I pull in a shaky breath, torn. A part of me is already soaring into the skies on giddy love wings, lifted up by how intensely thrilled I am to hear those words. Another, more logical part, is warning me to pump the brakes—forever will still be waiting for us after Nick and I have been dating at least a few months—and a third, panic-inclined part is shrieking that I don’t even know Nick’s favorite color, so how can I possibly even consider getting engaged and moving in with him?
“Are you freaking out?” Nick asks, eyeing me carefully.
My brows pinch. “What’s your favorite color?”
“Black,” he says without hesitation as if it’s a perfectly logical question to ask at this moment. “Followed closely by red. I’m also a fan of pink, and when I was really little, sometimes I’d steal my big sisters’ pink dresses and wear them to play in the yard.”
I snort with unexpected laughter.
“There are pictures so…I figured I should tell you before they come out at a family gathering,” Nick says with a grin. “My sisters live to bring me shame.”
“That’s pretty adorable.”
“That my family enjoys shaming me?”
“No, that you used to wear pink dresses because you liked the color.” I tug his hand, urging him closer. He comes to me, looping his arms lightly around my waist. “Guess you’ve always been a rebel, huh?”
“I just know what I like, and I don’t care if someone tells me I shouldn’t.” He dips his head, dropping a soft kiss to my forehead. “But I understand that you’re worried about what your family would think. I just… I want you to tell me if you’re freaked out in a ‘not sure I ever want to go there with that guy’ kind of way. I don’t want to get in any deeper if you’re not open to the idea that we might…work. Long term.”
“You mean that we might get engaged someday?” I whisper, more giddy wings beating in my chest.
He nods.
“I’m totally open to that,” I say, smiling. “I’m so open to it that I could probably be convinced to go for it pretty soon…on two conditions.”
His brows lift. “Yeah? And what are those?”
“One, that we wait at least another month,” I say. “Just to keep things slightly more traditional.”
He grins, and my heart flips again. “All right.”
“Two, that you don’t make me wait for my tattoo. Like Nash said, I’m not a child. I can make my own decisions, and I am positive I want that phoenix for my first tattoo. And I don’t care what my parents have to say about it,” I say before adding quickly, “though I will absolutely hide it from them until next summer since swimsuit season is almost over.”
