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“Open them,” he whispers.
And on his chest, I see a small black box.
“What’s this?” I whisper, my body trembling.
“Open it.”
I swallow roughly and meet his gaze before moving to open it.
Inside is a titanium ring.
“Whit,” I say, my eyes stinging with unshed tears.
“I bought this for you before Thanksgiving. But I never got a chance to give it to you. You don’t need to wear it. But it’s yours. If you want it.”
“Can I try it on?” I ask, and when he nods, I slip the ring right onto my ring finger. It fits perfectly. Because, of course, it does. This is Whit we’re talking about. I’m sure he painstakingly chose this for me. It makes it all the more special.
“I love it,” I say and then move the box out of the way and rest my head back on his chest, hearing his heart thump wildly in his chest.
“Should I buy you a ring now?” I ask, examining the band encircling my finger. It's dark, nearly black, and shines in the faint glow of the moonlight piercing the blinds of our room.
“If you want.”
I twirl the ring. “Does this mean we’re really engaged this time?”
He tugs on my hair, and I lift my gaze up to his.
“It was that easy?” he asks, confused about how I can just accept it and move on so quickly from everything that happened. Everything he put me through.
“Should I play harder to get? Anne says I’m a pushover.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “No. Not with me.”
“Good because for you, I’m a total pushover. Get used to it.”
Whit blinks rapidly and then shakes his head. “How did I get so lucky?”
I kiss the tip of his nose, his cheeks, and then his lips.
And, of course, it ends up like it always does. Me begging for it.
I end up impaled on him, riding him like my life depends on it, my ringed finger clutching his chest as I come.
EPILOGUE
One year later
“That took way too long,” I groan, shrugging off my tux and throwing it on the ground.
Whit eyes it, then picks it up and sets it on a chair.
“It was our wedding reception,” he says, and I roll my eyes and pull him into me. We'd decided on a winter wedding, much to my aunt's delight. And it was perfect. But I was done, ready to get on with the night.
“I just wanted them to all go away so I could get you alone. You made me wait two whole days before I could see you. Torture, babe. Pure torture.”
Whit smiles softly at me, not at all remorseful. “I wanted to see your expression as you walked down the aisle.”
“And did you get what you wanted?” I ask, linking our fingers together and pressing a kiss to the matching ring now adorning his finger.
