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“Blue is my favorite color,” I whisper about the new band, “and the stones reminded me of Julia’s eyes.”
Remi shakes his head as if trying to ensure he’s seeing what he really thinks he is.
“I—”
I cut him off, in no mood to hear him attempt to talk himself out of what he really wants. Because he wants this. He wants me, and he wants us, and he wants to walk around wearing pretty jewelry that I bought for him.
He’s such a priss, and he doesn’t even know it. Though, seeing as he has more clothing in our closet than I do, maybe he realizes that he’s a dandy and just won’t admit it out loud.
“When we go to that party, Rem, I want to introduce you as my fiancé. Not my best friend, not our boyfriend, or my lover, or simply Remington Lancaster the Third. I want to tell people that you will be my husband and Julia will be our wife and that we have dedicated our lives to each other.”
Remi’s eyes glance between my face and the ring pressed between my fingers.
“Are you sure about this, J? This is—,” He swallows thickly, and I can see his pulse hammering in his throat. “You know I want to be with you. You know I do. I’m not going anywhere. Never again. But this feels dangerous. It feels like pressing our luck when we don’t need to take the risk. You need the people at school to like you. I don’t want to start our life pissing people off right out of the gate.“
Despite his protests, he gives me grabby hands, and I slide the new addition to his growing jewelry collection onto his right ring finger. “Wedding,” I point to the one on his left. “Engagement.” He brings both hands to his face, eyes flicking back and forth between the matching wedding band and the newly minted engagement ring.
“What I need aremybabies in my arms andourbaby in our wife’s belly,” I say as I kiss his palm again. “Everything else is gratuitous. Baby steps, Rem. Think of this as baby steps. Without any forethought you already told the doctor—"
"She's having my baby," Remi says without hesitation. "I wanted them to know that—that you guys belong to me."
Great. Now I'm rocking a hard-on.
"Next week, my professors. After that, the world is our oyster.”
Remi hauls me to my feet and links his arms around my hips. I hiss when his palms slip inside my shirt and both rings, one considerably cooler in temperature than the other, make contact with the warm skin on my back.
“You know I love it when you use big words like that.”
He starts moving me backward, and I comply with ease, trusting him not to run us into any walls or furniture.
“Oh yeah?”
He bites his lip and jerks his head in rapid agreement with my taunting.
“Yeah.”
“Then you’ll love this. Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious."
Remi’s hands find my belt buckle, and I grunt at the rough treatment as he yanks open the leather and starts to work on my fly.
“Oh baby, say it again.”
“Super,” kiss. “Cali,” kiss. “Fragi,” kiss. “Liatic,” kiss. “Expi,” kiss. “Ali,” kiss. “Docious.” I drag my tongue down his throat and suckle at the skin showing above the line of his shirt.
My jeans hit the floor as he rucks his hands up my sides and yanks my shirt off over my head, leaving the offending garment somewhere in the hallway.
“My fiancé is so hot.”
My smile feels supernova.
“Say it again,” I mimic him.
“My fiancé,” he over-enunciates the word. “Is hot.”
He’s already missing his pants by the time we hit the bed. He falls onto his back and then uses his hands to scoot back into the middle.
“Don’t you love the sound of that? Cause I really adore the way it falls off your tongue.”
