He picks out a hot pink lily, tucking it behind my ear. “Not as much as you, lass.”
I roll my eyes, letting him pull me in for a kiss, then look around. There’s only one thing missing from this perfect scene. “Where’s Matt?”
“He had a call with his therapist about an hour ago,” Kenta says, coming out of the kitchen and pressing a fruity-looking mixed drink into my hand. The rim of the glass is decorated with chunks of pineapple and a pink paper umbrella. “We thought he’d be back by now.”
I take a sip of the drink, my insides warming at the taste of coconuts and rum. “He’s not due an appointment, is he?” I lick sugar off my lips. “I thought that was Saturdays.”
Kenta shakes his head. “It was... impromptu.”
I frown. Matt’s doing much better now.Muchbetter. He still has nightmares sometimes, but I don’t remember the last time I saw him have a flashback. I guess this must mean he broke his streak. “Is he okay?”
“Shaken.”
I put my drink down. “I should go find him before we eat.”
He nods. “Be quick. Food’s almost done. We’re having bruschetta for starters.”
“Have I mentioned I love you?”
He laughs. “I’m not sure.” He curls a knuckle under my chin, tilting my mouth to his. “You could always tell me again.”
I find Matt about a minute’s walk away, sitting near the sea. He’s slumped down in the shade of a couple of palm trees, staring out at the ocean. He’s holding something small in his hand, flipping it over and over between his fingers.
“Hey.” I approach him slowly. “You okay?”
He nods jerkily.
“Can I sit with you?”
Another nod. I slide down next to him, curling my legs under me. He dips his head, not meeting my eyes. I put my hand in his lap, and after a moment, he takes it, lacing our fingers together.
“Freak out?” I guess.
He nods.
“Why? Did something happen?” I rub my thumb into his palm. “You seem stressed.”
He huffs a laugh. “Not stressed. Nervous.” He looks at me sideways. The ocean air breezes over us, ruffling his thick black curls. “I love you so much.”
A smile spreads over my face. “I love you, too.”
He swallows thickly.“Somuch,” he repeats.
“And… that makes you nervous? Have I told you recently that you’re the most emotionally constipated man I’ve ever met?”
“Yes,” he says. “I just...” he looks down at our joined hands. “I don't want to screw this up.”
“Screw what up?”
He hesitates, then shows me the object in his other hand. My mouth drops open. It’s a ring box covered in black velvet. As I watch, he flips it open with his thumb, revealing a silver ring, inset with a square-shaped white stone that glitters in the sunlight.
It’s beautiful. Absolutely stunning. I swallow. “Matt…”
“The guys are going to kill me for giving this to you now,” he mutters. “We said we’d all do it together.”
I stare at him. “We?”
“All three of us. We all wanted to propose together.” He frowns, rubbing his thumb against the hinge of the ring box. “But of course, I fucked it up.”
