Rather than waiting for a response, he takes my free hand and gives me another grin, tipping his head toward the bridge. With a shrug, I slip my phone back into my pocket and follow as he leads me the rest of the way up the path to the bridge. The wood creaks under our feet as we step off the path, and he stops us right at the top of the slight arch.
“You want another picture from here?” I go to pull my phone out, but Alex intercepts my hand and pulls gently until I’m facinghim. He has this smile on his face that’s soft and hopeful and eager all at once.
“Um, not quite yet, actually. First...” His smile deepens, and then he ducks his head as his cheeks turn bright red.
And it’s not until he squeezes my hand and then starts to lower himself down to one knee that I finally realize what’s going on and why he brought me here. My heart jumps in my chest, and I think I stop breathing as he lifts his eyes up to meet mine.
“Nico...” He smiles again, and it’s still soft and hopeful and eager, filled with all of his love.
He brings my hand slowly to his lips and kisses my knuckles, the gesture sweet and loving, and before he’s even said more than my name, this wave of warm, bright joy hits me. I swallow and shake my head, but his smile just widens.
“Nico... you’re my best friend,” he says softly, and I swear his eyes are now glistening with unshed tears. He blinks them back and continues. “There’s not a day that goes by that I’m not grateful for you, for what we have together... for this life we’ve built.”
I smile and drop my chin as a tear slips down my cheek. “Alex...”
He squeezes my hand. “I love you, Nico. I love you with all of my heart, and I will love you for all of my life. And—” His voice falters as he lets my hand go long enough to reach into his pocket. He pulls out a small black box, and, with a shuddering breath, he opens the box and lifts his eyes to mine again. “Nico West, will you marry me?”
My gaze drops to the two matching dark metal bands in the box, and I’m suddenly laughing and crying and nodding and blubbering something incoherent all at once. Whatever I say must sound like theyesthat I mean, because Alex’s face lights up like the sun, and then he’s standing and my arms go up around his neck, and he kisses me, his tears mingling with mine. We kiss and kiss until I’mbreathless, and then he steps back and takes one of the rings out of the box, his hands shaking.
“I-I hope it fits, I had to guess at your size,” he stammers, and I can’t talk, so I just nod again. The ring slips on my finger easily, and it’s just fucking perfect.
I tell him that, and then we kiss again, his hands finding my waist as mine slide up his chest to rest on either side of his neck.
“I love you,” I whisper against his mouth.
“Mmm, I love you too,” he hums. He kisses me one more time, but it’s an awkward kiss because we’re both grinning. When he pulls back this time, I lower my hands to his chest, and he glances down and then takes my left hand in his, running his thumb over the band. “It is perfect, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” I breathe. Then, wordlessly, I take his ring out of the box he’s still holding, and I kiss his hand before I slide the ring on his finger. “Perfect.”
I lift my eyes to look up at him, and he’s watching me too. I shake my head. “I knew something was up.”
He laughs and lowers his eyes. “I thought you might have.”
We’re quiet for a moment, and then I laugh and hand him back the ring box before taking my phone out of my pocket.
“So, now you want that picture, right?” I say.
He nods.
There are still tears on my cheeks, and I’m sure my face is as flushed as his, but I lift up the phone anyway as he steps behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. He threads the fingers of his left hand through mine and rests both of our hands on my chest so the rings are visible. Then he tilts his head against the side of mine, and I snap the selfie.
“Perfect,” he whispers in my ear, and he kisses my cheek as I snap another.
Chapter Eight
Alex
Hesaidyes.
Through a wonderfully beautiful jumble of tears and smiles and laughter, Nico saidyes, he’ll marry me.
Even almost a week later, I still feel giddy and weightless and warm all over every time I think about it or see the ring on his finger. It’s gotten so bad—how I randomly smile or laugh or just have this urgentneedto kiss him—that he’s started teasing me about it, flashing the ring just to get a reaction out of me.
I absolutely adore all of it.
With a lovesick sigh, which naturally earns me an exaggerated eye roll, I slip an arm around him and kiss his cheek while I continue stirring the pasta sauce on the stovetop. He steps away momentarily to drain the noodles but moves right back into position—close enough that I can wrap my arm around his waist again—as soon as he’s transferred the cooked pasta back into the pot.
“So, you’ll be home late tomorrow night?” I ask, turning off the heat on the burner and setting the spoon aside.
