Well, I guess a few more details wouldn't hurt anyone…
Amy and her online fictional book boyfriend were going strong and quite possible in some sort of fictional relationship on Twitter. They were an item. She was incessantly messaging, emailing, and sending him tweets throughout her day, until her fictional book boyfriend's mother sent her a nasty email…
Come to find out, Amy's love interest was actually a sixteen-year-old boy who started a Twitter account for a book character he knew about from reading one of his mother's smutty romance novels. Yes, the entire ordeal was quite traumatic for my dear friend, Amy, but unquestionably one of the funniest things I've ever heard. In her defense, the kid knew his book character, and I'm pretty sure he had that romance novel memorized.
I can't avoid the fact that Amy is still glowering at me. I choose to raise my hands in the air, indicating that I'm throwing the white flag and I'll keep my mouth shut on this topic. Amy turns back towards the bar to let Johnny know we could use a few more beers at our table. I make eye contact with Lizzy and mouth, "I'll tell you later." She quickly smiles and winks at me before Amy is facing us again. Amy glances back and forth between my sister and me, making sure we've really stopped talking about her ex-fictional book boyfriend. She didn't seem to notice our little exchange, and for that I'm extremely thankful. I think she would have honestly attempted the whole beer-bottle-up-the-ass maneuver.
Johnny drops a few beers off at the table, and his dimples are standing out from the giant smile on his face. "You guys are going to love this next…singer." He looks directly at me. I'm a little creeped out right now. Johnny isn't one to dish the smiles around, and when he's flashing his dimples, something is going on. The last time he flashed those cute little dimples at me, I had to stand on top of the bar while he serenaded me with She's a Jolly Good Fellow. It wasn't my birthday. I'm obviously not a fellow, and Johnny loved every second of embarrassing me in front of the entire bar.
"Stop being so weird, Johnny. You're creeping Ellie out," Amy quickly says before flicking her wrist, indicating for him to leave our table. She's such a bitch sometimes, but right now, I'm more than appreciative.
"What's going on? He's not going to make me stand on top of the bar while he sings again, is he?"
"I don't have a clue, but I got your back, girlfriend. No way in hell will I let him pull a stunt like that again."
I start to say something to Amy but stop when I hear the first beats of one of my favorite Ray LaMontagne songs start to play over the bar speakers. I'm a little pissed off at the asshole that is going to attempt this song; I mean, who in the hell thinks they can even come close to Ray LaMontagne? I've decided that if they really screw this up, I have no qualms with heckling them on stage. I'm not afraid to be the cunt in the crowd. Ray LaMontagne is my man. He's the best, and when you try to mess up the best, well, you have some hell to pay. I look over at Amy and Lizzy and they are both grinning like Cheshire Cats, staring at me. I give them a "what the fuck” look before hearing a very familiar voice start to sing the first lyrics.
My eyes quickly dart up toward the stage, but no one is standing up there.
The husky voice continues the song, and I know exactly who is singing. I'm in shock and I think my heart may have stopped beating for a moment before quickly speeding back up and nearly pounding out of my chest.
I look back at Amy and Lizzy; they are both knowingly watching me, letting me know that they were in on this.
And then I see him. Trent.
His bright blue eyes are beaming as he belts out the lyrics to my favorite song. He is now standing on the makeshift karaoke stage, front and center.
His eyes are on me. He's watching for my reaction, and all I can do right now is gawk at him. My jaw is basically sitting on the table. I can't believe he's doing this. He's singing this song, of all songs, to me. The song he knows is my favorite, the song he's heard me gush about. The song I've told him is the most perfect, most romantic song. Tears are filling my eyes as realization hits me. This isn't goodbye. Trent is forcing me to hear what he has to say, what I've been avoiding for fear that he would reject me. He's not rejecting me; this is his way of screaming through a megaphone and making me hear how he really feels.
He's a terrible singer by the way, completely ruining the song. He's missing verses and his voice cracks as he attempts to hit notes that only Ray LaMontagne could make sound good, but I don't care. This is the biggest, most romantic gesture anyone has ever done for me. This is Jerry Maguire on steroids. This is un-fucking-believable. This man deserves a thousand blow jobs for this.
I feel Amy wipe a few of the tears off of my cheeks, but I can't even take my eyes away from Trent's to look at her. He's got me riveted. His horrible, terrible, off-key singing has me so hooked that I can't even notice anyone else in the bar.
Baby
We've come a long way
And baby
You know I hope and I pray
That you believe me
When I say this love will never fade
Trent finishes the song and I'm still sitting on my barstool, gaping at him. Shocked. Surprised. Elated. I'm more in love with him in this moment than I have ever been with anyone in my entire life. I love Trent Hamilton.
My thoughts are interrupted by the hoots and hollers from the bar, then Trent clearing his throat loudly. Oh god, first he serenades me and now he's got a speech?
He raises his hand, smiles at the crowd. "Thank you. My album will drop next month." He nervously laughs with the bar before locking his eyes on me. "Ellie, is this loud enough for you?" He smirks at me and continues talking into the microphone. "I know I said megaphone, but Johnny wouldn't let me, said it would clear out the bar."
Johnny yells from behind the bar, "Even with just the mic you almost accomplished that, dude!"
Trent laughs and gives Johnny the middle finger. "Anyway, where was I before that rude bartender interrupted me?" He grins at Johnny and then sets his sights on me again.
I'm still in astonishment and even feel Amy give me a quick nudge to make sure I'm still with her. I just nod my head yes and intently watch Trent, waiting for what he's going to say.
"Ellie, I don't want to be your knight in shining armor, your prince on the white horse. You don't need saving, baby. You're the strongest woman I know. The last few weeks have been rough—really rough—but together we're going to get through it. You're everything I could have ever hoped for, and just knowing you has made me a better man. I'm in awe of you, Ellie. Your beauty, your grace, your feistiness, your adorable charm, and your kind heart. Your outspoken personality and spitfire attitude that constantly keep me on my toes, mostly for fear of what you'd do to my balls if I pissed you off." His eyes beam with amusement and I'm internally giggling. "I know you have your doubts, I know you're scared, baby, but I'm still going to ask you, beg you. Be with me. Love me. Let me stand by your side and experience this crazy life together. I want you, Ellie girl. I want all of you. I want every piece of the incredible jigsaw puzzle that makes you the amazing woman that sits before me. I can tell by the look on your face right now that you're a little shocked, a whole lot surprised, but I just needed you to hear me out. I needed you to hear that you are it for me. No hesitations, no doubts, no second thoughts. I'm staying in Charlotte because I love you. I love you so much that I can hardly breathe—"
"Stop! Stop!" I abruptly jump up off of my barstool, knocking my beer bottle over, liquid spilling down the edges of the table. Keeping my gaze locked on Trent's, I walk towards the stage. He's so beautifully nervous right now and probably scared to hear what I'm going to say, yet he still gives me a small smile as he watches me move through the bar. This man has me. Owns me. I'm his and there's no doubt in my mind that this little thing between us has turned into so much more than I could have ever imagined. I know in my soul that this is forever. I hate sounding like a total douchebag sap, but I can't help it. I'm blaming it on the Hamiltonian Effect.
I take
a step up onto the stage and stand in front of Trent, looking up at him, drinking in this instant in time. This moment I will most likely remember for the rest of my life. I sense the bar has gone quiet, intently waiting for me to say something, but I honestly have forgotten about them. They don't exist right now. Right now, it's just Trent and Elle. I'm wrapped up in his blue, piercing eyes.
"Please say something. Say anything. Wait, no, not anything. Don't say goodbye. Anything but—"
I place my fingers on his lips and his mouth immediately stops moving.
"You're a terrible singer."
I feel Trent's lips quirk up into a smile against my fingertips as he nods his head in agreement.
"But you have fantastic taste in music." I smirk at him and his eyes shine with amusement. "And you have fantastic taste in women." My fingers slide down his chin and lie gently over his heart. "No goodbyes, Trent. Never goodbye. You and me, we're forever, and as much as that used to scare the shit out of me to think about, I'm not scared now. You own me, all of me, even the part of me that sports twelve-inch strap-ons at Halloween parties." His chest vibrates against my palm with quiet laughter. "You are all I could have ever hoped for and a million things I never knew I even wanted. You are mine, Casanova. This right here…" My fingers gently tap his chest. "This is mine and I will never let it go."
Trent drops the microphone to the ground, a loud bang echoing through the speakers. He places his hands on my cheeks and pulls my face closer to his; we're nose to nose, staring into each other's eyes. "Fuck, you made me nervous." Wrapping his arms around my back, he takes a shuddering breath and pulls me closer, pressing his lips to mine.
I giggle against his mouth. "I'm sorry…" I kiss him deeper, showing him how much he means to me. "I love you."
"I know you do, but you still have a lot of making up to do tonight." I lean back and he waggles his eyebrows at me suggestively.
"You're incorrigible."
"You love it."
"That I do, pervy. That I do." I tenderly kiss his cheek and snuggle into his chest.
And then our little romantic moment is ended with a certain obnoxious dickhead yelling out from the crowd.
"Are you two going to fuck on that stage or let the rest of these asshole give us their best Tina Turner impressions?!” Amy yells from the table her and Lizzy are still sitting at.
I flip Amy off and proceed to kiss Trent with everything I am, everything I have, everything I can give to him, because he is everything to me and…we are forever.
Epilogue
“Every happy ending starts with a bumpy ride, a rough journey. That beginning will most likely throw some unexpected surprises your way, but in the end, it'll all be worth it.”
Cutting the engine, I slowly get out of my truck, tired and ready to crash for hours.
I've been in surgery for the past eight hours, and it's now past two in the morning. I'm starving and exhausted, and I see some much needed sleep in my future.
Making my way into my apartment in Uptown Charlotte, I throw my keys on the foyer table and head for the bedroom. The lights are off, and the apartment is silent, peaceful. I haven't seen Ellie in the past forty-eight hours. The combination of her work schedule and the numerous surgeries I've scrubbed into has only made it possible for a few text messages and short phone conversations here and there. I miss my girl. My girl. My soon-to-be wife. I beam inwardly like a pining idiot. I know I sound like a lovesick fool right now, but I don't give a shit. Ellie is my world, the most important person in my life. And now she's going to be Mrs. Hamilton. Mrs. Ellie Hamilton. She's got me by the balls and I love every minute of it.
Grinning like the pussy-whipped asshole I proudly I am, I stride into the bedroom and see Ellie sound asleep on our bed. She's serene and devastatingly beautiful. Her auburn hair is spread all over her pillow while the blankets are strewn all around her body, most likely from the constant tossing and turning that is Ellie's sleep cycle. She's a kicker. An occasional snoring, tossing, turning, kicking, cover-hog whom I'm desperately in love with. Countless nights I can recall of her waking me up with hard blows to the shins. I instantly grab my nuts, remembering the last time she woke me up with her insistent movements at night. I may not be able to have children anytime soon, but I still love her all the same.
Ellie lets out a soft snore and abruptly turns over in the bed, her arm hastily thrown to the side and now currently hanging off the bed. I hear a quiet whine from the ball of fur that is curled up near her legs, obviously upset with the interruption in her sleep. Georgia's big brown eyes open and she glances my way, her tail instantly starting to wag.
“Shhhhhhhh, Georgie. Don't wake Ellie.” I head over to the bed and attempt to calm our six-month-old Boxer puppy's excitement with soft pats to her silky coat. I rub her soft, brown puppy ears and she closes her eyes in contentment, instantly laying her sweet little face back on Ellie's leg. Ellie mumbles something in her sleep and I snicker a little at another one of her many nocturnal habits.
Heading into the walk-in closet that's conveniently attached to the bathroom, I start to strip off my scrubs, more than ready to call it a night. I see the black fuck-me heel that Georgia chewed on the first day I brought her home sitting in a box, a box with evidential proof that our dog has a predilection for Ellie's shoes. Thoughts of the first day Ellie met Georgia flood my mind…
“I can't believe you're going to propose to Ellie by bringing home that mutt and wrapping the engagement ring around its fucking collar,” my brother Josh said through the screen.
I was Skyping with him with Georgia impatiently sitting in my lap. On a whim, I'd come up with a plan—a proposal plan. Ellie had fallen in love with this Boxer puppy at a local pet store and I couldn't help myself. I'd never thought of myself as a sappy, romantic kind of man, but she just brought it out of me. Doing a terrible rendition of You Are The Best Thing by Ray LaMontagne is proof of this—incriminating proof at that. If anyone had caught that on video, I would have offered my left nut to get it deleted. It was worth it though. The stunned look on Ellie's face when she saw me belting out the lyrics in front of an entire bar was one hundred percent worth it. She'd attempted to get me to re-enact that night, that moment. The instant in time when I'd poured my heart out to her.
When I'd laid eyes on her for the first time in Charlotte, I'd been interested. Well, my cock had been interested. She was beautiful and sexy, and her quick wit had me begging to be with her in every way physically possible. I'd been besotted to say the least. I'd wanted her and I'd had my sights on being with her, even it was just for one night. Then I actually got to know her. I guess I'd always felt like there was someone out there for everyone. You know, that one perfect person to make your life complete and all that other happy horseshit.
I'd honestly never put much thought into it. It just hadn't been a priority. Being a surgeon had been at the forefront of my mind for a very long time. I'd worked my dick off in med school and then nearly killed myself slaving away during my surgical residency. I'd had my sights set on my final goal of becoming a trauma surgeon, and thank god Ellen James did not come into my life until after this goal had been accomplished because she would have made it difficult to stay focused. Extremely difficult.
This woman, this beautiful, hilarious, highly intelligent woman, owned me. Within a few days of spending time with her, she'd had all kinds of strange, foreign thoughts crossing my normally testosterone-filled brain. A brain that generally focused on work and then sex. No-strings, one-night stand sex for the most part. I hadn't had time for intimacy, for a relationship. My job was my life. Then lucky for me, Ellen James walked into my life in all of her fuck-me heels and twelve-inch strap-on-wearing glory. She changed me almost instantly. Her mere presence had my brain processing terrifying thoughts of forever. Thoughts of her being a permanent fixture. This had scared the shit out of me at first, but the more time I got to spend with her, to be with her, these thoughts became comforting. I found myself savoring the id
ea of being with her—forever. She was scared, downright terrified, and she didn't do the best job of hiding this. My girl wore her heart on her sleeve, and whatever emotion was running through her mind was plastered on her face like a giant neon billboard. I was patient. Very patient.
Just like I'd set my sights on accomplishing my ultimate goal of becoming a surgeon, I'd set my sights on Ellen. I was convinced that I would do anything to make her mine, even if that included an endless amount of patience, an impromptu karaoke session, and a giant romantic gesture that belonged in a John Hughes film. Yes, I realized I'd looked like a complete and total pussy. My brother would most likely never let me live this down, but this just proved how much Ellie had changed me. She'd come into my life in a whirlwind of auburn hair and adorable awkwardness, altering my life forever. I thanked my pussy-whipped stars every day for this woman.
So here I was, conversing with my brother on how shit was going to go down in relation to the subject of “The Proposal.” He called me a dickless idiot more times than I could count and seemed to find this entire production hilarious. I was glad I could be his comedic relief today. Asshole.
I placed Georgia on the bed and attempted to tie the engagement ring I'd bought for Ellie on her collar. With Amy and Lizzy's help, she'd unknowingly picked this one out. This was a two-carat princess-cut diamond ring solitaire set in a gold band and adorned with tiny diamonds throughout. It was beautiful and had cost a shitload of money. Good thing I loved her so much. Georgia was an eight-week-old brindle Boxer puppy, cutest fucking puppy you'd ever meet. She'd already been named by a lady at the pet store, and honestly, I thought it was perfect for her. Her insistent curiosity and overall loving demeanor made the name fit.
I'd brought her home last night while Ellie was at work. Amy and Lizzy had been kind enough to keep the puppy at their apartment so the surprise wouldn't be ruined. I was pretty sure the girls had had a rough night with Georgia. I'd received several angry text messages from Amy indicating that she wasn't really a dog person.
The Infamous Ellen James (Infamous Series) Page 24