Jason raises his hands in surrender. “I’m just looking out for you. Both of you,” he adds, glancing at Thomas. “This affects me too, you know.”
We both nod, because yeah—it kinda does. If this falls apart, he’ll be the one stuck in the middle.
Jason looks at Thomas again.
“So what are your exact intentions for my little brother?” he asks, completely serious.
I let out a strangled groan. “Oh my god, Jason. You sound like someone’s Victorian father.”
“It’s a legitimate question,” he says with a shrug.
“It’s fine,” Thomas says again—and I honestly don’t know how he’s staying so calm when I feel like I might combust from secondhand embarrassment. “My intentions are to be with Carter. For as long as he’ll have me.”
Something in Jason’s expression eases a little, but he’s not done. “And what does that actually mean? Are you thinking long-term? Like…getting married?”
My heart stumbles in my chest. We haven’t even talked about any of this.
We’ve been together for less than twenty-four hours, and suddenly we’ve skipped straight from first kiss to marriage like the ten thousand steps in between don’t exist.
I want to say something—anything—to steer this conversation back to safer ground. Pancakes. The weather. Literally any other topic on earth.
But before I can string a thought together, Thomas says, “Yes. Of course.”
The words hang there, and I swear my heart forgets how to beat.
Of course.
Thomas Moore wants to marry me. Of course.
I’m still trying to process that casual, almost offhand answer when I notice Jason’s face has shifted completely. His eyebrows—which until now seemed permanently glued to his hairline—have lowered, and his mouth has fallen slightly open.
For once in his life, my brother is speechless.
Under any other circumstances, I’d be savoring this moment. But right now, I’m too busy having a full-blown internal meltdown because the man I’ve loved for twenty years just casually said he wants to marry me…after less than twenty-four hours of us actually being together.
“I’m sorry,” Jason says, finally finding his voice. “Did you just—are you saying you want to marry my little brother?”
I glance up at Thomas, ready to jump in and reassure him he doesn’t have to answer that.
But Thomas just smiles. His ears go red. And then he says, “Yes, I do.”
I stare at him, half expecting a qualifier—someday,eventually,once we’ve actually dated for more than a day—but he just stands there like he didn’t just casually drop a marriage proposal in my brother’s kitchen.
“Thomas,” I start, my voice a strangled whisper. “You don’t have to—”
“And you’ve thought about this?” Jason cuts in, still locked in on Thomas like I’m not even in the room. “This isn’t just… I don’t know, post-car-sex euphoria talking?”
“Jesus,” I yelp, mortification crashing over me all over again.
Thomas doesn’t even blink.
“I’ve thought about marrying Carter for at least a couple of years,” he says—calm, certain, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “So there’s not much left to think about.”
I stare at him, trying to figure out who this alien is and what they’ve done with Thomas Moore. The Thomas I know—the one I’ve spent twenty years pining after—is thoughtful, methodical, the kind of guy who researches toasters for three weeks before making a purchase. He doesn’t blurt out lifelong commitments like they’re casual suggestions.
Jason turns to me. “And what do you want, Carter?”
“I—we haven’t talked about any of this,” I say, gesturing vaguely between Thomas and me. “We’ve been together for less than a day, Jase.”
