by Connor, Anne
“I thought you had something that you wanted to ask me, Drew,” I say, weaving my fingers through his.
“That’s right. I wanted to know if you’d like me to pick up a six-pack of beer from this really nice brewery that just opened up in town. Now that you like beer, and all.”
Eric snorts and laughs from the porch behind Drew, as his mom slaps her hands down at her sides and rolls her eyes.
“Ask the lady the question, Drew,” Rich says. “I thought you were this direct, to-the-point guy.”
“Right,” he says, getting down on his knee again. “Molly, this is for you. Marry me. Be my better half.”
“Not better. Fifty-fifty. And yes, Drew. I will. I’ve learned a thing or two from you, too, you know.”
He gets up and swings me around in the air. When I finally touch down again, he parts my lips with his and slips the ring onto my finger mid-kiss, just like it’s belonged there all along.
Acknowledgements
Liz Connor - Thank you for your stellar suggestions and all the times you read and re-read my book, and for always encouraging me. “Eff fear!”
P.B. - Thanks for everything. You’re the best boyfriend.