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Things with Emilia have never been easy. They’ve always been off the charts intense, whether we were fucking with wild abandon in a dark alley or proclaiming my love live on the air of a radio station. Nothing we’ve done has been typical.
Or at least it hasn’t felt that way. That’s why I was so fucking shocked when she wanted to call it off because we weren’t following some typical pattern. First comes love, then comes marriage and all that shit.
It didn’t seem like her thing.
Fuck, was I ever fucking wrong as fuck.
When I finish telling Charles the whole thing, he just stares at me, slack-jawed. Like he can’t believe it.
Then he grins. “My, how the mighty have fallen.”
“Fuck you, dude,” I say with a laugh.
But it’s true.
I fucking love her.
And I’ll be damned if I’m going to lose her now.
Which is why when Erin knocked on my door thirty minutes ago, letting me know that Em was leaving the country and she wasn’t sure for how long, I did the only thing I could think of.
I sprang into action.
I formulated a plan there on the spot.
And yeah, it’s fucking crazy.
But not nearly as crazy as I’ll be if I lose the one woman who I don’t want to live without.
For the first time in my life, nothing has been clearer.
I love her. She loves me. And I’m going to make her mine.
“So, um, Evan…I have to ask.” Charles furrows his brow. “What does all this have to do with me?”
I give him a reckless grin. “Isn’t it obvious? You’re going to marry us.”
Three
Emilia
I throw my carry-on into the overhead bin and drop down into my seat, looking around for a flight attendant. I need a drink, stat, if I’m going to make it through this insanely long flight.
Somehow, I hung around outside the gate long enough that I nearly missed the final boarding call. The plane is packed and ready go. I can’t fucking wait. I think.
And…I need that drink.
I see a brunette in uniform on the phone at the front of the plane and catch her eye, gesturing wildly.
She holds up her index finger and turns her back. Ugh. So much for first-class service.
There’s an elderly gen
tleman who looks remarkably like Hugh Hefner, complete with smoking jacket, in the seat next to me. He’s looking at me curiously, making me feel a little uncomfortable. You never know what you’re going to get in a flight companion, I guess.
Giving him a polite smile, I sit back in my seat, trying to get comfortable and close my eyes.
…then that fucking song starts playing.
