I almost smile at her dry tone. “I don’t see anyone but you,” I repeat.
Rather than reply, Maeve kisses me again. There’s none of the gentle teasing that started our kiss earlier. She’s kissing me like she needs me more than oxygen. Hands rove. Our tongues tangle. And it’s not until I end up sitting on the sandy ground and she’s straddling my lap that I realize Maeve intends for this to go further than kissing.
I pull away. “Maeve, baby, that isn’t—I wanted to talk.”
Maeve leans back, running a hand through the blonde hair I missed as she mumbles something that sounds a lot likeThat’s a first.
I grin, but nerves wash it away fast. All of a sudden, I’m panicked that everything about this is wrong. That there should be candles and I should be wearing a tux and I should have more to offer her than a rookie contract with no guarantees. And that the prelude for these four words shouldn’t have been feeling her up in the moonlight while we fend off mosquitos.
“Wes?” Maeve prompts, signaling I’ve been silent for too long.
“Yeah. Sorry. I’m just…nervous.”
Maeve looks surprised. Because she knows I don’t get nervous, usually. Because she knowsme, and that offers a modicum of comfort that no matter how the next few minutes go, we’ll be fine.
She clears her throat before asking, “Nervous about what?”
Nowshesounds nervous, so I’m definitely fucking this up.
I inhale a deep breath. “We haven’t talked much about what comes next since I was drafted. And I know that San Diego is far, and not what you wanted, but—”
She bites her bottom lip. “Wes…”
“I just want you to know that—”
“I never said that I didn’t—”
We continue to talk over each other for a few seconds. As soon as there’s a pause, I blurt the words that have been percolating in my mind for weeks. Months. Years. I’m not sure how long after meeting Maeve I knew she was the one, but it wasn’t very long. “Will you marry me, Maeve Stevens?”
She stares at me. Blinks.
More staring.
More blinking.
I swallow. “I love you, Maeve. I’min lovewith you. I have been since—I don’t even know when it started. Maybe when you brought me to that drive-in movie. I just know I haven’t stopped, and I’m never going to. And I don’t want you to give up anything for me. But Idowant you to know I want you with me. Now and always. If you’re not ready to get engaged, if it’s too much, too soon, that’s okay. I’ll keep asking until you say yes or tell me to get lost.”
There’s a pause that might be seconds but feels like hours. “You aren’t going to get on one knee?”
“You’re sitting on it,” I say, scrutinizing her expression.
“Poor planning, on your part.”
I smile, hesitantly, as I scan her expression. “I wasn’t expecting you to maul me as soon as we got down here.”
Maeve rolls her eyes. Then she meets and holds my gaze as she reaches into the pocket of my sweatshirt. “I was going to leave this in here and see if you found it, but then I got worried your mom might wash it first.”
I glance down at the piece of paper, covered with black text. It takes me a minute to absorb enough information to tell what she’s offering me. It’s a one-way ticket from Hartford, Connecticut, to San Diego, California.
“They still have paper plane tickets?”
“No. I downloaded a template online and printed it out. Seemed more romantic than sending you a screenshot.”
She pauses. I glance up from the ticket.
“I—I wanted you to know I mean it. That I want to do this. Live with you. Be with you. I’m not giving upanything, Wes. I’m getting everything I ever wanted. And…” She smiles. “I really want to marry you. So, uh, yes. You don’t need to ask again, and I’m never going to tell you to get lost.”
It feels like my chest is getting cracked open. But it’s not painful. It’s letting in lightness and happiness and all the giddy emotions uncertainty has held back these past few months.