I took Khiya’s hand, and we continued moving swiftly through the airport, neither of us speaking until we were in my truck.
“That was weirdly uncomfortable,” she said.
“Now you know how I felt when Livvy tried to show her ass, and she was never my woman.”
“Yeah. I don’t know what’s up with him. I haven’t seen or heard from him since I left his apartment when he broke up with me.”
“He saw you and realized what he’s been missing. I hope he can take a hint because you’re mine, and I don’t play about what’s mine.”
“Yours, huh?”
“Every inch of you, and I won’t hesitate to eliminate any obstacle that comes between us, regardless of what orwhoit is.”
“Eliminate? That sounds dangerous.”
I glanced at her for a moment before returning my attention to the road.
“Where did I tell you I was from?”
“The southside of Chicago.”
“Don’t let this pilot shit fool you.”
“I’ll be sure to remember that. Umm, what was that you said about me being your wife soon?”
I smiled because I knew she’d heard me and would bring it up eventually.
“I meant what I said.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re presumptuous?”
“You did on the day we met.”
“I see nothing has changed.”
“I told you then, I’m just honest. I’ll always be honest. I love you. I want a future with you. I want to marry you.”
She whined, dragging my name out. “Sylas, you’re such a sweetheart.”
“Only for you, beautiful.”
“You’re making me cry.”
“As long as they're happy tears, baby. I should probably warn you. Once I get the okay from your parents, a proposal could happen at any time, so keep those nails done.”
“You’re talking about this so casually, but something tells me today isn’t the first time you’ve thought about this.”
“Making you my wife has been on my mind since the moment we met.”
“I love how you’re so decisive and matter-of-fact about it.”
“Isn’t that the way I should be? I’ve always pictured myself married with a couple of kids, but I was never in a rush for it to happen.”
“Don’t you think we’re rushing?”
We’d made it to my condo and were parked in my parking spot in the garage. I turned to face her, and she was already looking at me.
“Let me clarify what I mean. I’m almost thirty-eight, baby. I’m not trying to sound cocky, but I’ve dated many women who would’ve jumped at the opportunity to be my wife. They were beautiful, nice, intelligent, and successful, and probably are or will be amazing wives to somebody, . . . but that somebody wasn’t me becauseyouare my wife. So, now that I’ve found you, hell yeah, I’m in a rush to marry you. Do you understand the difference?”
