Gold against skin. Cold metal warming fast.
He leaned in and kissed me, slow and sure, his hand coming up to cradle the back of my neck like I was precious and breakable and his.
When we finally pulled back, my nose was red, my cheeks were wet, and my heart felt too big for my chest.
“Okay, fiancé,” I said, tasting the word. It fizzed in my mouth like champagne. “We should probably go tell my parents before my mother comes running out here with a thousand questions.”
“She already knows,” he murmured, brushing his thumb along my cheekbone. “But yeah. Let’s go tell them, anyway.”
We walked back up the path, his hand warm around mine, the ring catching starlight with every swing of my arm.
Through the kitchen window, I saw my parents at the table. Mom’s hands were over her mouth. Dad’s arm was around her shoulders.
They weren’t worried in that moment. They were just two people who’d watched their daughter walk out into the dark with a man and were now seeing her come back with a ring on her finger.
We stepped inside to a flurry of hugs and tears and terrible jokes about dowries. Mom grabbed my hand and inspected the ring like she’d been in on the design.
“It’s perfect,” she said, voice thick. “Simple. Strong. You’ll be able to type in it.”
“That was the idea,” Levi said.
Dad hugged me hard enough to make my ribs creak, then pulled Levi into his arms so abruptly it startled them both.
“Welcome to the family, son,” he said gruffly into Levi’s shoulder. “Try not to get my kid killed. I’m very fond of her.”
“I’m very fond of her, too,” Levi said, and his voice shook just enough for me to hear it.
Later, in the small guest room that still smelled faintly like my teenage self, we lay awake with the ring catching the glow from the streetlight outside. Levi’s body was a long, solid line of heat beside me, his arm heavy across my waist.
His palm slid from my waist to the dip just beneath my ribs, thumb brushing the underside of my breast through the thin cotton of my shirt.
“Stop thinking so loud,” he murmured against the back of my neck, voice gravel and midnight.
“I can’t.” My voice cracked on the last word. “You put a ring on me, Levi.”
His low laugh vibrated through my spine. “Still processing, huh?”
I rolled over to face him. Moonlight striped across the sharp cut of his cheekbones, the straight line of his nose, the mouth I’d kissed a thousand times and somehow still wanted more. The diamond on my left hand glinted when I reached up to trace his lower lip.
“I want to feel it,” I whispered. “That it’s real. That you’re mine now. Officially.”
Something fierce flashed behind his eyes. He caught my wrist, turned it, and pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the center of my palm. Then he guided my hand down between us, wrapping my fingers around the hard length of him straining against his boxer briefs.
“Feel that?” His voice dropped to a growl. “That’s been yours since the first time you looked at me like I was a story you hadn’t decided whether to write or burn.”
I squeezed, and he hissed through his teeth.
My shirt was gone in seconds, yanked over my head and tossed toward the rocking chair my mother swore was an antique. My panties followed. He shoved his own underwear down far enough to free himself and kicked them off the foot of the bed.
Skin to skin, the years collapsed. We were in the desert again, sneaking around in that tent, both of us pretending we weren’t already in too deep.
Only this time, when he slid inside me, there was no pretending anything.
He pushed in slow, watching my face like he was memorizing the exact moment I took him home. I was slick, ready, but still the stretch burned in the best way. He was thick, relentless,perfect. When he bottomed out, we both stilled, foreheads pressed together, breathing the same air.
“Engaged,” he said, voice rough with wonder. “You’re going to marry me.”
“Yes,” I breathed.
