I stick my tongue out at her, but I'm smiling.
The bar is full of familiar faces tonight. Lottie is holding court at her usual table, already three glasses of wine deep and telling anyone who will listen about her grandson's latest accomplishment. Rachel and Levi are at the bar with Troy and Ainsley—Troy's arm around Ainsley's waist in that easy way thatcomes from being sure of each other. I’m surprised she’s here since it’s her night off, but it’s nice to see her in a non-work capacity, even though we’re still at the bar.
The door opens, and I don't even have to look to know it's Kevin.
I just feel it. The way the air changes. The way my whole body relaxes and lights up at the same time.
He crosses the bar and takes his usual seat, and I'm already reaching for a glass, pouring his beer, adding the lime wedge without asking.
"Hey, boyfriend," I say, sliding it across to him.
"Hey, girlfriend." His fingers brush mine when he takes the glass, and even after six months of living together, sleeping together, building a life together, that simple touch still makes my heart skip.
But something feels different tonight.
Kevin's tapping his fingers on the bar—that nervous tell I recognize. His jaw is tight, and there's something in his eyes that I can't quite read.
"You okay?" I ask, leaning on the bar.
"Perfect," he says, but his voice is rougher than usual. "I'm better than perfect."
Before I can respond, he stands up.
And the bar quiets.
I watch, confused, as Kevin comes around the bar to where I'm standing. People are noticing now—conversations trailing off, heads turning.
"Kevin, what are you—"
He drops to one knee.
The entire bar is silent.
My heart stops.
"Steph," he says, and his voice carries in the sudden quiet. "A year ago, you told a drunk guy in this bar that I was yourboyfriend. And I played along because I'd have done anything to keep you safe. But the truth is, I was already yours. I've been yours since the moment I met you."
Tears are already streaming down my face.
"You're my person," he continues, pulling a small box from his pocket. "My home. The woman I want to wake up next to every morning for the rest of my life." He opens the box, and a beautiful ring catches the light—simple, elegant, perfect. "Will you marry me?"
"Yes," I sob, laughing and crying at the same time. "Yes, yes, of course, yes!"
He slides the ring onto my finger—his mother's ring, I realize, the one Rachel told me about months ago—and then he's standing, pulling me into his arms and kissing me like we're the only two people in the world.
The Lucky Tap erupts.
Cheers and whistles and applause so loud it rattles the glasses behind the bar. Lottie is on her feet, shouting, "I knew it! I called it!" at the top of her lungs. Rachel is screaming and crying happy tears. Troy is clapping Kevin on the back. Ainsley is hugging me so tightly that I can barely breathe.
"Let me see the ring!" Lottie demands, already elbowing her way through the crowd.
I hold out my hand, still shaking, and she gasps. "Oh, that's beautiful. That's his mother's ring, isn't it? Oh, Kevin, your mother would be so happy."
"She would," Kevin says, his arm tight around my waist. "She'd have loved Steph."
"When's the wedding?" someone shouts.
"Can we start a betting pool?" Tony calls out, and everyone laughs.
