No. It’s glow in the dark paint on our brand-new bed.
Cute. And safe.
I feel Xander’s arms snake around me, pulling my back into his chest. I pocket my phone quickly and tilt my neck, giving him access.
He presses kisses along my neck as we walk toward the door of our apartment. And suddenly the nerves are replaced with absolute certainty.
I want this man and his mouth forever.
When we reach the door he spins me around and pushes me against the frame, his mouth finding mine. “I can’t wait to get you into our new bed,” he breathes into my mouth, not breaking contact. One of his hands slides up my side and flirts with the underwire of my bra.
Proposal sex. I’m down.
Especially after we broke the old bed last week.
Why yes, Iamexcited to report that love and lust don’t just coexist—they set each other on fucking fire.
His spare hand runs over the top button of my jeans and pops it open. The legend of the sexual magician lives on.
There’s a loudthunkbehind the door to the apartment that has Xander stopping in his tracks. And then we hear Em’s muffled, “Shit.”
Xander’s eyes catch onto me. “Em?” he says, confused. I offer him a look that shows I also have absolutely no idea what Em is doing in the apartment.
Another loudthunkand Xander spins me around so he’s standing between the door and me, all protective. I swallow a smile. He opens the door in seconds, eyes roaming for the threat.
“Em?” he calls out.
“In here,” she says, panic rising in her voice. He takes off toward the bedroom. At this point, I’m trying to understand what could have possibly gone wrong.
Did Em smack her knee on the new bed frame? Stub her toe in the dark? Get paint on the carpet? I mean, the packaging said it was safe for ages three and up.
This proposal was supposed to be simple.
Glow in the dark fabric paint. Em writesMarry Me?on the sheets while we’re out. She turns the lights off and waits.
It’s a cute as fuck throwback to our time at the sleep study together.
“Ash?” Xander says from the bedroom, his voice raised in a question at the end.
“Coming,” I say, as I round the corner only to be greeted by darkness.
On the bed, written in perfect cursive isMarry Me?Em pulled it off. She did it. Of course she did.
Nothing like the present to propose.
I spin around, looking for Xander, but I can’t see him. Shit. I didn’t think that part through.
I flick the lights on, and that’s when I see him.
On one knee.
Holding out a ring.
“You really think you could beat me to this?” he says, smirking.
“Wait, you’ve been walking around with a ring?” I say, stealing a glance and—woah—it’s a fucking rock. The perks of marrying a lawyer.
He shrugs, like it’s the most normal thing in the world that he would propose to me on a regular Tuesday night.
