“It’s gorgeous, Joz. I didn’t see it coming.”
“That was the plan.”
“I know I said yes up there but…”
A cold sweat broke out on my skin, goosebumps pebbling along my arms. “Are you saying no now?”
“No. God, no. I want to marry you more than anything, but I think there’s something you should know. Something we haven’t talked about before.”
I frowned. “Go on.”
“We’ve never talked about kids, and I-I-well, I don’t want them. I love Arthur, but I’ve never seen myself as a mother. If that changes things between us, then I’d understand. I’d never take away your chance to be a father if that was what you wanted.”
“Jesus Christ, Spitfire. You almost gave me a fucking heart attack.” I brought both of her hands to my lips and kissed first one, then the other. “It’s you I’m marrying. You I want to spend my life with. As for kids, if you’d wanted them, I would have been happy to have them with you. But the truth is, I’ve never felt the urge. No kids is all good with me.”
“Oh, thank God.”
I rested my hand on her inner thigh. “Any other regrets?”
She shook her head. “Not a single one. You took a risk, though. Imagine if I’d said no in front of all your fans.” She chuckled. “I bet I wouldn’t have made it out alive.”
“My heart was beating so fast, I was scared I’d have a heart attack before I could ask you. The last time I was that nervous was before my first stadium concert. I puked my guts up in the toilet of my dressing room. Nearly didn’t make it on stage.”
Aspen tipped her head back against the seat. “Glad you didn’t puke tonight.”
“Came close,” I murmured, brushing my hand over her knuckles. “Before I met you, my life lacked meaning. Often, I felt alone, my spirits only lifted when I played music. Even my visits to Arthur were soaked in guilt. Now I know I’ll never be alone again.”
She turned her hand in mine, lacing our fingers together. “You won’t. Not ever.”
The city blurred past the windows, but all I saw was her. My anchor, my future, the reason I could breathe again after suffocating for so long.
The driver pulled up outside the house we’d bought together. As much as I’d loved my loft apartment, I was a different person now, no longer haunted by demons and smothered in guilt, thanks to the woman by my side.
“I should call Mom and Dad,” Aspen said as we got out of the car. “Before they hear the news or see something on the Internet.”
“Good idea.”
I left her in the kitchen, breaking the news to her parents, and jogged upstairs to our bedroom. My instructions had been carried out to the letter. I corked the champagne and poured two glasses, shucked my clothes, climbed onto the bed among the red and white rose petals, then stuck a de-thorned rose in my mouth. Five minutes later, Aspen walked in. For a beat, she froze before she broke into a grin.
“You are a crazy man.” As she approached the bed, she faltered. Narrowing her eyes, she stared at my groin, my dick hard and pointing at my navel.
“What’s that?”
I knew exactly what she meant, but this was me. I spat out the rose. “It’s my dick. I know it’s been a few days, but surely you haven’t forgotten what it looks like already.”
She gave me one of her stern looks that turned me the fuck on. “I don’t mean your dick. Is that… a tattoo?”
I frowned, raising my head off the bed and looking down. “Fuck me, it is. Where did that come from?”
“Joz!” She jumped on the bed and straddled me, pushing my dick to one side to reveal her name in black ink, tattooed right above my pubic hair. “You are…”
“Sexy, stunning, a fucking god?”
“Unbelievable.”
“That’ll do, I guess.”
“When did you get that done?”
