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“Fine.”
I’m biting back another grin, always smiling at their antics.
I can’t believe this is my life, being hugged by the man in a bespoke suit who could model for GQ; wearing tattered sweats because it’s what I like, and fuck everyone else; beside a kid who has become a son to me and the little sister I never knew I needed.
Bastian leans his chin on my shoulder as we wait for the awestruck teen to get us our junk food. “You look happy.”
“I am.”
The happiest.
I can’t even quantify this feeling or describe it.
The kids grab their drinks and candy, I take the large Coke, and Bastian grabs the popcorn.
When we get into the theater, it’s completely empty. There are previews playing already, but no one is in here.
I look around. My hair flings into my eyes, and I brush the strands away.
“Are we in the wrong theater?”
Bastian nudges me forward with a hand on the small of my back. “Nope.”
“But it’s crazy crowded out there. Are theaters normally empty?”
He takes the seat beside me, Tessie on his side and Everett on my side. “They are when you buy out the theater.”
“What? No way.”
“It’s your first time,” he says like it’s the obvious thing to do.
Tessie shushes both of us. “You’re not supposed to talk in the theater.”
I roll my eyes, set the drink in the cupholder, and lean into the reclining chair. Everett grabs my hand on my left, and Bastian grabs my right hand. The last trailer ends, and the movie starts playing.
Long intro credits. Three guys fighting. A bunch of blood Everett and Tessie shouldn’t see, but I’m sure they’ve seen worse. By the unfazed expression on Everett’s face, I know it to be true.
And then the movie cuts off. Right out of nowhere. The screen flickers. I look back at the projector to make sure it’s on before the screen lights up again.
Two words consume it from wall to wall.
Giant. In my face. All caps.
MARRY ME.
No question.
A demand.
Because that’s the type of man my new fiancé is.
BASTIANO ROMANO
One Year Later
Dad half drags me out the door as I grab random things I think we’ll need and throw them into the baby bag Ariana packed a few months ago.
His hand fists my collar, and then I’m unceremoniously shoved out the door. “Your kid is coming with or without you…”
