by Lacey Dailey
The doors slid open and Ace bounced out, speed-walking to his desk. He got about halfway before he skidded to a stop.
“Where the fuck is everybody? It’s after six. People should be here.”
The doors clanked shut behind me. My heart raced. I thought about what I’d been rehearsing in the shower for the last few weeks. I patted my pockets, double checking the ring didn’t magically disappear into thin air and took a few steps forward.
“I asked them to leave.”
He spun around. “Why?”
“Cause.” I flashed him a smile I knew was painted in nerves. “I thought we could play a game.”
“A game?” he snorted, flailing his arms outward. “A game? Right now?”
“Yeah.” I inched towards him, beckoning him with my finger. “Play a game with me.”
He stepped into my arms. “Is this a naughty game? Because I can’t promise Cruz doesn’t have cameras in here.”
A laugh bellowed out of me. “Nope. Not a naughty game.” I gripped his shoulders and spun him around, forcing his attention to the room. “There are questions hidden throughout this room. It’s your job to find them.”
“Oh, is it?”
“Yes.”
“And what will you be doing?”
Pissing my pants with nerves and praying you’ll be my husband.
“Watching you.” I kissed his temple. “Go on. You love questions.”
“That is true.” He pushed away from me and strolled leisurely around the room. “It feels a little like you’re avoiding your celebration dinner. Making up a pretend scavenger hunt just to stall. We can ditch, ya know. I’ll order you Chinese and we can eat it naked in bed.”
“I like the picture you paint, A.” I sat on the edge of his desk. “But this isn’t pretend. Find your questions.”
He stopped where he was at and studied me, gauging to see if I was fucking with him or not. When he discovered the truth, his eyes widened and he stood a bit taller.
“This is for real? You hid questions in here for me?”
“Sure did.”
His cheeks flushed. “You’re obsessed with me.”
“Kind of.”
He rubbed his hands together and started to walk again, really looking this time. His eyes were darting around the room, his hands roaming the surfaces beneath desks.
He let out a noise and barreled across the room to August’s desk. When we got there, he yanked a red sticky note out from under the keyboard and shouted in triumph.
“Found it!” He flipped it over and read it out loud, a grin enveloping his gorgeous face.
Why did Yankee Doodle name the feather in his hat Macaroni?
It was the first question he ever asked me. The day after we met. He asked because he knew it provided me with an outlet. Something to focus on that wasn’t so damaging to the soul. I didn’t know it then, but that was the moment he started to save me. A moment I was eternally grateful for.
“There’s more, A.” I spread my arms wide. “Ten to be exact.”
He clutched his question in his hand and went around the room, the tip of his tongue poking from between his lips in concentration. He did a victory dance each time he found another, slapping his feet on the floor as if he were wearing tap shoes.
With each question he found, his smile grew larger and his dance escalated in energy.
How come the hair on our arms and legs don’t get split ends?
Why is zero the last number on a keyboard and not the first?
What would be the coolest animal to size up to the scale of a horse?
Is a hot dog a sandwich?
Which body part do you wish you could detach and why?
Is your five-year-old self inhabited your current body, what would he say?
What’s the best WiFi name you’ve ever seen?
Why do we say ‘pair of pants’ when there is only one article of clothing?
What’s the best type of cheese?
Is cereal soup?
He read them all with a laugh, eyes shining with each word. When he found the tenth one, he skipped over to me and waved them in my face.
“Found them all,” he hooted, slapping them down beside me. “What do I win?”
I stood off his desk, my kneecap shaking like it was trying to escape my skin. “There’s one more.”
“Really?” He frowned and spun around. “I thought I got them all.”
I dug into my pocket and yanked out the last question before my moment was ruined. Reaching around his body, I held it in front of his face and waited for him to take it.
“Oh!” He plucked it from my grasp. As he began to unfold the post-it, I sank down to one knee directly behind him.
The faint gasp that left his lips sent my heart racing. I watched all the muscles in his body stiffen and then achingly slowly, he turned around.
I held my breath.
A strangled wheeze erupted from somewhere in his chest. He glanced around the room frantic, as if he were expecting someone to call cut. A sheen of tears pooled in his eyes. All the nerves, panic, and self-doubt left my body with one big whoosh and all I could feel was love.
“Ace.” I extended my hand. His own hand shook as fiercely as mine when they connected, my question positioned directly between our palms.
Will you marry me? Circle yes or no.
He sniffed, and I saw a small tear escape the corner of his eye and run down his cheek. He was glowing. Fucking radiant with a shocked smile poking out from behind his trembling hand.
I noticed the way his chest was moving erratically with his heartbeat and I pressed my hand to my own, almost positive I could feel his there too.
“You are euphoric, Ace Jackson,” I started, my voice cracking with emotion. “A form of happiness so rare, I ask myself every day if you’re real. The love I have for you runs marrow deep in every square inch of me. You make up the entirety of my universe, and I’m more than proud to be the man you helped me become.” His breath caught. “I promise to always take care of you. To answer all your questions. To love you unconditionally, and to hold you close when your brain is busy.” I took a shuddered breath and let tears roll down my face. “What do you say, baby? Marry me?”
It was silent for less than a second. He made some sort of choked noise, head nodding rapidly. “Yes.”
The world shifted right then. Not enough to send us tumbling, but enough so we could feel it. So we could recognize how deeply our world was about to change and close enough so two souls could become one. With a smile stretching from ear to ear, I reached behind me and pulled a pen from my back pocket. I held it upward, my bottom lip trembling.
A watery laugh burst from his lips. His million-dollar smile blinded me when he slid the pen from my sweaty grasp and unlinked our hands. With an unsteady hand, he circled the word yes.
In true Ace fashion, he stamped the thing on my forehead and chucked the pen in the air. I was mid-blink when he dove at me. I hit the ground with a thud and a flurry of laughter. My heart was filling, reaching its maximum capacity when he gripped my face and kissed every surface of it, sobbing softly and making sounds of undeniable happiness.
“Ace.” I threw my arms around him and held him against my body, memorizing the way he felt at that moment. Both of us slumped on the concrete floor, his leather pants making odd sounds when they rubbed against my slacks. A bright red sticky note blocking half my vision and me contemplating duct taping it there forever. Our tears of disbelief and happiness mixing while we kissed. I reached for his hand and laced our fingers together, making a sound before pulling away. His cheeks were red and lips swollen. Eyes filled with love and the promise of a lifetime.
I held his hand in front of me and made a tsk-ing noise. “Naked.”
He looked at his hand in confusion, wiggling his fingers beneath my grip. “Uhm.”
“Don’t like seeing a naked hand on my future husband.” I shifted beneath him, wedging my free hand in my pocket. With a grunt, I p
ulled the box free and popped it open with my thumb.
He swayed on top of me and threw his hand over his heart like he was about to pass out. “Sweet Lord honey Jesus, he bought me a ring.”
I maneuvered the band out of the box with one hand and let the box fall wherever. Positioning the ring at the tip of his finger, I looked him in his tear-filled eyes. “Don’t take this off, A.”
He shook his head quickly. “Never, B. I promise.”
I slid it down his finger and positioned it. He flexed his fingers, wiping his face. “I love it.”
The ring I chose for him was black tungsten, complete with a ring of crimson red around the middle. The ring of red was completed with a line of red diamonds encrusted down the center. It was bold, bright, and one of a kind. Exactly like he was.
I dipped my chin and kissed it, reveling in what it felt like to see it there. To put it there. It was sort of like falling in love with him all over again. That sense of free falling but you knew that wasn’t quite what was happening. It was more like walking. Walking into a house and knowing your home. Just because that’s where he was at.
He dipped his chest and planted both hands beside my head, and like two magnets made only to connect with each other, we joined at the lips. My hands held both sides of his face, his fingers running through my scruff, and we kissed. For a long ass time. We just laid there, kissing passionately. Kissing deeply as our tears dried and our hearts filled.
What the fuck was the rush?
We had forever.
Acknowledgments
Tristan, I love you. Thank you for encouraging me to follow my dreams.
Monique, thank you for the numerous suggestions you provided for the dozen outlines and plot changes I presented you with.
To Keeley, my editor, you make my writing stronger. You make me work harder. You help me transform my words and make them shine. Thank you for working your magic on this novel.
Pearl, your friendship amazes me. Thank you for the love and support you provide me and many others in this community.
Thank you to the bloggers and bookstagrammers who have supported me nonstop. The love I feel from you all is profound.
As always, thank you to all the readers who continue to read my novels and express their love and interest. It means more to me than you’ll ever know. You chose to read my books over the millions of books available, and I’ll never take that for granted. If you enjoyed it, please consider leaving a review. Reviews fuel indie authors.
Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
XO, Lacey
About the Author
The best place to find Lacey is with her nose in a book. She’s a sucker for a good love story and a happy ending that has her swooning. When she’s not obsessing over giving her own characters a happy ending, you can find her in the dance studio empowering young dancers and giving out tons of stickers. Thanks to her mother’s pizzeria, Lacey can make a delicious pizza.
When she’s not putting on her dance shoes or inhaling a slice of pizza, she’s in front of her computer binge watching romantic comedies and penning stories with love so powerful, it’ll last a lifetime. As a recent graduate of Central Michigan University, Lacey intends to keep inspiring people through dance and lots and lots of words. She currently lives in Central Michigan surrounded by her family and unpredictable weather.
Connect with Lacey:
www.laceydaileyauthor.com