“And that worked, because it involves food.”
“It did. You picked me up and drove us to your favorite place. We ate, talked, and learned more about each other. Then we had the longest walk together, and after that, we went back to your car. You drove me home, walked me up to my front door, and that’s when we first kissed.”
“We hadn’t kissed before?”
“No, you hadn’t kissed my upper set of lips,” I explain with a twinkle in my eye.
“And then what happened?”
“We went out on a few more dates, and we took our time there, too. We texted a lot and even exchanged a few steamy pictures. Three weeks into it, we finally had sex.”
“I’m surprised we lasted three weeks.”
“We did. Then we fucked the entire weekend. It was explosive and amazing.”
“Again, good idea to stay close to reality,” he approves.
I giggle, shaking my head. “It was the easiest relationship ever. I moved in with you after five months of dating, and aside from a few cliché arguments here and there, not a single wave.”
“That’s a pleasant change. How did I propose?”
“I don’t know. You tell me.”
With his eyes on the road before us, he takes his time coming up with his answer. A small smirk stretches his lips as he envisions how his false persona would have done it. “Okay, for our second anniversary, I took you out to a fancy restaurant, the kind where people propose.”
“That’s anticlimactic.”
“I didn’t propose there. But you expected it, nervous the whole dinner, waiting for me to pop the question. You were visibly gutted when we left and I still hadn’t asked. But you said nothing as we strolled around for a moment before ending up walking by the bar we met in. It looked random, but I’d meticulously planned our casual itinerary. We headed inside for a beer, had three each, and you dragged me to our stall in the restroom for an encore—not part of my plan. Anyhow, you got busy opening my pants, and I realized it might jeopardize everything if you found the ring in my pocket. So, I got down on one knee as I took out the box. But you didn’t realize what was happening, and you expected oral, so you hiked up your dress for it.”
I groan. “Do I have to be a sex-obsessed goblin?” I complain.
“I’m merely sticking close to reality, Andrea.”
“Asshole,” I mumble.
“Anyhow, you eventually saw the ring and stared at me for a solid thirty seconds.”
“I wasn’t hesitating, though. I was tongue-tied, wondering how I got to be lucky enough to land you.”
“I know you were. I’m a great catch. Stock trader and everything.” He grimaces at that, showing how little he thinks of the profession I chose for him.
“And then, a year later, we had a beautiful summer wedding, and I became Mrs. Wilson,” I conclude for him. The fake scenario has me giddy with excitement. So much so that I can’t hold back from saying, “God, I can’t wait to become Mrs. Coleman.”
Lex frowns. “That’s never happening.”
My heart skips a beat. Or it drops, I’m not quite sure. He can’t mean that, can he?
“What?” I ask, perturbed.
“You’re not taking my father’s name. You deserve better than that, and his name isn’t worth going through the struggle of changing all your legal mentions.”
“His isn’t, but it’s also yours. You’re worth it. And I want us to share a name. I want our kids to share it, too.”
“Then we can share Walker.”
My worry turns into stupor. “You’d take mine?”
“Alexander Walker has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”
