#Heart (Hashtag #6)

by Cambria Hebert

  The bouncer at the door saw us coming and opened it swiftly, nodding at the guys. “No press!” he yelled when a few reporters tried to slip in with us.

  “Thank Christ,” Braeden muttered.

  I took a chance to look around, and of course, the place was packed. The second we walked in, people started cheering and howling. This was the Wolfpack country, and to the people of Alpha U, Romeo and B would always be Wolves first.

  After that, drinks appeared, music pumped through the entire warehouse-looking building, and it was an all-around typical college night.

  In other words, it was the best.

  Rimmel’s tongue was blue from the Smurf Balls, Drew and Trent were surrounded by so many women on the dance floor they were scarcely visible, and Missy sat at a table with a group of people I didn’t know. I couldn’t help but notice how she watched my friends and me half the night.

  I danced as much as B would let me. He kept telling me to sit down because of the baby. All the guys were extra watchful of me, worried someone might body check me like before.

  It was going to be a long nine months, and this poor baby… God help her if she was a girl. With three very large, very protective uncles right in her home, plus a daddy who tackled men for a living… well, she was going to need a lot of patience.

  Ooh! Patience was a nice name.

  A slow song came over the speakers, and Braeden’s familiar arms wrapped around me from behind. “Time to go, Blondie.”

  I craned my neck so I could look back at him. “Go?”

  “We got somewhere we need to be.”

  “Where?” I questioned, narrowing my eyes.

  “Somewhere.” He kissed the tip of my nose.

  “‘Kay.” I sighed. I was such a sucker.

  Braeden went over and said something in Romeo’s ear, and he nodded. I watched them pound it out, and Rimmel gave me a what’s going on look, and I shrugged.

  But then she smiled. A secret-like smile.

  She knew, too.

  Once the good-byes were said, B led me to the door. On the way, we passed right by Missy’s table.

  I couldn’t help it. I stopped in front of her. She looked up at me, mild surprise in her eyes. “Twice in one day? Be careful, Ivy. People might think we’re friends again.”

  File that under things that will never happen.

  “How can we be sure you won’t talk?” I cut right to the chase.

  “How little faith you have.”

  I lifted a perfectly sculpted brow at her. “Big crowd tonight. The BuzzBoss made sure everyone knew where the party was.” It was an innocent statement, but she knew damn well what I meant.

  Missy shrugged one of her delicate shoulders. “That’s what the BuzzBoss does. Keeps people in the know on important social events.”

  “Just social?”

  She stood up from the table then, giving her new friends a smile (the poor suckers), and leaned in. “I’m not going to say anything. Parties are one thing; real life is different.”

  I believed her. Maybe I shouldn’t, but I did.

  “I won’t hurt you like that.” She lowered her voice. “Not again. Not especially now that other people are involved.” She glanced pointedly at my waist.

  So it was the baby that convinced her to let all this go?

  “Good luck, Ivy,” Missy said, the note of finality in her voice clear.

  My stomach dropped a little. I’d written Missy off a long time ago. I stopped thinking of her as my friend.

  But I never really said good-bye to her.

  In a way, it had never really been finished.

  She just said good-bye. This was it. The complete and total end of my relationship with her.

  “Thank you,” I said sincerely. “I hope you find a good life and keep it.”

  I hope you don’t screw it up like you did with us.

  “Me, too.” Her eyes slid to Braeden, who was standing there silently listening to our entire exchange.

  “See ya, Missy,” was all he said.

  “Bye, Braeden,” she echoed.

  We stood there awkwardly for a few seconds more, and then she sat back down at her table and turned toward her friends.

  It hurt a little. Missy and I hadn’t drifted apart naturally, but after everything, the result was just the same.

  Braeden’s palm settled against my back, reminding me that even though that part of my life was over the best part was just beginning.

  Out in the parking lot we hurried through the crowd of reporters still camped out. There were less than when we first arrived but still enough to be annoying.

  After the question about Zach’s death, it was completely unspoken that we not talk to any more press. At least not until the rumors died down.

  Inside the truck, I sat close to B, his large hand on my thigh, scooting up beneath my skirt.

  “Maybe this whole dress thing isn’t so bad.” He smiled wickedly.

  Of course it wasn’t bad. I looked cute as hell with the full hot-pink skirt, navy heels, and navy baby tee with white polka dots. Since it was cold, I added a military-style fitted jacket in white with dark-colored buttons.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  He put the truck in reverse and backed out of the spot. As he drove through the parking lot, he tossed me an impressive smile. “You issued a challenge, baby. I had to rise to the occasion.”

  I recalled no such challenge, but I had to admit I was excited to find out what so-called occasion he was rising to.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Braeden

  I was nervous.

  I didn’t like it.

  Confidence wasn’t something I usually had to work for, but Ivy always had been. She deserved a lot more than I ever thought I could give a woman, but that wasn’t going to stop me. They say the best things in life come from pushing out of your comfort zone, and I was learning whoever the hell said that was right.

  It was probably some smart guy like Albert Einstein or some shit.

  I went out of my comfort zone when I turned her dorm room into a beach, when I promised Ivy it was our beginning, and that from then on it was only her.

  I didn’t regret it.

  Not even a little.

  I never thought I was a relationship kind of guy. I always ran away when the feels got real.

  I was done running.

  I was in so deep with Ivy, it would kill me if I ever had to go back.

  I pulled onto the familiar one-lane back road that she and I had driven down quite a few times before. She didn’t say anything, but her cheek found its way to my shoulder, and as I drove, we sat silently, so close together, as the wide landscape opened up before us.

  This was it. This was the best I had.

  If she said no tonight…

  I wasn’t taking no for an answer.

  Oh, hells no.

  We rounded a bend in the road, and off to my left the ground gently fell away, revealing a sweeping view of mountaintops and trees. I knew in the morning, a dewy fog would rise up between the bare tree branches and create an eerily beautiful sunrise.

  My eyes abandoned the would-be view and glanced off to the right—toward the other side of the road. In this section of the mountain, there used to be an apple orchard. Many of the trees were long gone and tall grasses grew in their place, but there were still a few old, twisty apple trees that still grew here, jutting out of the earth like they owned the place.

  Hell, they’d been here long enough. Maybe they did.

  I looked for one particular grouping of trees that still stood not far away from the road. It was easy to find, and I smiled.

  It was lit up just like it was supposed to be. Soft golden light shone against the otherwise dark background.

  I knew when Ivy noticed the glow. Her head lifted from my shoulder, and she leaned forward a bit to stare out the windshield. “What is that?” she asked.

  “Not sure.” I hedged as we drove closer at an unhurried pace. I
wanted her to take it all in, let her wonder, and frankly, I needed a minute to calm my shit.

  God, you’d think I was a virgin and it was my first time getting some.

  “Are those lights?” she asked as we approached. Her voice was slightly wondrous. She leaned a little closer to the windshield and then patted me on the arm excitedly. “Those are lights. Someone wrapped those old trees in lights!”

  “You don’t say?” I drawled.

  “You did this!” She gasped. “Oh my word, it’s gorgeous.”

  Yep. It turned out a lot better than I thought it would. I mean, really, four guys with a bunch of lights and shit, a ladder, and a truck? The entire time I caught shit for it, too. They all voted me “closest thing to a living book boyfriend.”

  Like they even knew what the hell that was.

  I was never going to live it down.

  Naturally, I had to remind Rome of his grand proposal on national TV. That at least shut him up. The other two, though… they ribbed us endlessly.

  Their days were coming. Hell, if a guy like me could get taken down by love, then so the hell could they.

  At least we were alone tonight. Just me, Ivy, and the stars.

  As we drew closer, the details came into sight. Three twisty, bare apple trees created a small, enclosed space in the wide-open land. We’d wrapped the trunks starting at the ground with yards of white lights and carried them up along some of the lowest-hanging branches. The trees hadn’t been pruned in a long time, so the branches were uneven and crooked, but as I looked at the way they illuminated the night, I realized it only added to the charm.

  We didn’t take the lights up into the upper branches, because on those, I’d hung jars from long white cord and put battery-powered candles in them that we’d turned on before we left. I hadn’t been able to tell how bright the light would be when we were here in daylight, but seeing it now, it looked pretty damn good.

  The jars hung at different heights, some lower and some higher. There was a gentle breeze tonight, and they swayed gently beneath the canopy of branches.

  “Braeden,” Ivy whispered, her eyes never leaving the illuminated space when I stopped in front of the sight. “There are stars, too!” She gasped and gripped my arm again.

  You ever sit around and cut out a million stars out of white paper?

  It sucked.

  Gave my hand a damn cramp and a crick in my neck.

  And threading the little fuckers onto long strings, one after the other, without ripping them?

  Sucked even worse.

  But I had to admit the way the lights cast a golden glow over the plain white paper and the way they seemed to rain down from the trees was pretty cool.

  What was better?

  The way Ivy was staring out the window at it all like she’d never seen anything so beautiful.

  I pulled forward a little more and slid the truck in reverse. Ivy craned her neck around so she could stare out the back window at the decorations as if she were too impatient to lose the view for even a second. I backed off the road, into the grass, and steered the bed of the truck so it slid right under the trees. Once it was in park, I jumped out and leapt up into the bed.

  I used the same blankets and pillows we used before, tossing them around the back to make for a comfortable place to sit. Since it was colder out (technically, it was still winter) than all the other times we’d come here, I added a few extra blankets and made sure to layer a few thick sleeping bags I’d rummaged out of my mom’s garage on the bed so we had some cushion to sit on.

  When that was done, I lifted Ivy out of the cab, and she raced around to the tailgate, where she spun in a circle in the grass and looked up at the lights. She looked beautiful. Her nose was already pink from the cold, her eyes were sparkling with happiness, and the golden waves of her hair practically shone like a halo beneath the lights.

  When I stood rooted in place, just watching her, she laughed and blew me a kiss.

  Owned.

  There wasn’t a single solitary part of me Ivy didn’t own.

  Every star I cut, every light I strung, and every single stupid joke the guys made at my expense today suddenly became nothing compared to seeing her standing here beneath it all.

  “Come over here!” She grinned and beckoned me with her hands.

  I grabbed her up the second she was within reach and kissed her until my lungs burned from lack of air.

  “I can’t believe you did all this,” she whispered, looking up into the trees once more.

  “Figured I owed you since I screwed up so royally before.”

  Her nose wrinkled and her eyes found mine. “What do you mean?”

  Instead of answering, I picked her up and deposited her in the bed of the truck. I jumped in after her, and we both kicked off our shoes and dove into the blankets.

  “You cold?” I asked, tucking a second blanket around her shoulders.

  “No way,” she murmured, still staring up at the trees. Some of the jars and stars hung down close to us, and she reached up and fingered one of the paper stars.

  “Did you cut these?”

  “Got the blister to prove it.”

  “Let me see,” she instructed, and her slim hand appeared from beneath a pile of covers. I held mine out and turned it so she could see the proof of my hard labor.

  (Hey, a guy’s gotta get all the credit he can when he does something like this.)

  “Poor thing,” she crooned and lifted my hand to kiss it.

  “I got one right here, too.” I showed her my other hand.

  Her lips brushed over it in a cool caress.

  “Here, too.” I pointed to my lips.

  “Hmm,” she mused. “I’m not seeing that one.”

  “Woman, get over here!” I wrapped both arms around her, and we toppled over, with her on my chest. Her hair fell like a curtain around us, blocking out everything but the closeness of her lips, the love in her eyes, and the feel of her body right against mine.

  I used my tongue to coax her mouth open, gently tracing the contours of her lips until they parted on a contented sigh. I swept inside her mouth, using my tongue lazily to kiss her in a languid caress that made my head feel fuzzy.

  With a sigh, she rolled off me and onto her back. We lay there, our heads touching and our fingers entwined, and stared up at the lights and stars.

  “I love it here,” she whispered.

  “Make a wish,” I whispered back. The nerves I felt when we first got here returned, no longer subdued by the heat of our kiss.

  “There’s lots of stars to pick from,” she mused, and it played right into my hands.

  Meant to be.

  I untangled myself from the blanket and stood.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “I have just the star for you to wish on.”

  Please don’t let her think this is cheesy, I silently prayed.

  “Show me,” Ivy said, still snuggled in a mountain of blankets.

  I walked toward the tailgate and stretched up to one star that was different from the rest. “This one,” I said, catching it between my fingers as it moved in the night air.

  “It’s different.” She abandoned the warmth she’d been lying in and came over to stand beside me. “Oh, it’s like it’s 3-D. Is it hollow inside?”

  “I think I want to wish on this one. You mind?”

  Her eyes were curious when they turned on me, away from the star. “Sure.”

  It took a second to tug it down, but when I did, the star filled my palm. It was simple and crudely cut, but it got the job done.

  “I wish I may, I wish I might,” I murmured as I slowly opened the star, taking it apart, “have this wish I wish tonight.”

  When I was done, the star lay open on my palm, each point slightly curled in from being folded. In the center, tied to the string it had been hanging from, was a diamond ring.

  Ivy made a sound and pressed her hand to her mouth. Her eyes were twice the size they normal
ly were as she divided her gaze between me and the ring.

  “I wish for you, Blondie,” I said. “I wish to spend the rest of my life loving the shit out of you.”

  Her eyes glittered more than any of the lights I’d strung up tonight, and she stared down at the ring, her eyes never once straying.

  “Hey,” I murmured and tipped her chin up with my free hand. “I know I asked before, and I know it totally sucked. It’s hard for me to… to tell you just how much I want you. I demanded you marry me, not because you’re pregnant, but because there’s no going back. I’m like a golden retriever, baby. Loyal ‘til the very end.”

  She laughed. It was muffled against her hand, which was still pressed to her mouth.

  “Marry me, Ivy. Not because of the baby. Not because without you, I might literally drift away. Marry me because I fucking love you. And you fucking love me. Marry me because it doesn’t matter if I ask you now or in three years. The result is still the same. We’re inevitable, just like the stars in a cloudless night sky.”

  Her hand fell away from her mouth and tears rolled down her cheeks. She looked back at the ring still lying in the center of my palm.

  “And if I say no?” she asked.

  My gut clenched, but I tried not to show her how bad it would be if she turned me down tonight. “I’ll ask you again tomorrow. And the day after that.”

  “Ask me again right now.” The wistful tone in which she asked was definitely not demanding.

  I grasped the ring between my thumb and index finger, lifted it out of the star, and held it so the emerald-cut solitaire winked up at her, courtesy of the candles hanging nearby.

  “I wish for you. For us. Marry me, Ivy. Say you’ll marry me.”

  A few heartbeats passed of nothing but the winter wind. She lifted her hand as if she wanted to touch the ring but then dropped it and looked up into my face.

  “Oh yes.” Her voice was breathless.

  “Yes?” I wanted to make sure I heard what she actually said and not what I’d been desperately wanting to hear.

  “I’ll marry you.”

  I gave a shout and sank low to wrap my arms around her waist and lift, spinning her in a circle. She laughed, and I set her back on her feet and she pushed her hand between us.