“Look,” he says. “I don’t need you to sign a government document or wear a ring from Kay Jewelers because you think you need to prove something to me. I already know. You’re always there in the morning, spooning me.”
“I like being the big spoon,” she says, voice wobbling. “Being the little spoon—”
“—makes you claustrophobic,” he finishes. “I know.”
He reaches his fingers just under her ears to the back of her neck, smoothing his thumbs over her cheeks. He takes in the contours of her face—all the little details that can’t be captured by photographs. Like the scar on her forehead. Like the cute little crinkle at the top of her nose that forms when she’s squinting in the sunlight. Like the little divot at the corner of her mouth that needs to be kissed to be truly appreciated.
It needs to be kissed now, actually.
The brightly lit interior of the store fades into something dark and soft and gauzy, where there’s nothing but her arms around him and her hand in his hair and her artificial-cherry lips. They’re the best thing he’s ever tasted.
Anywhere between two and twenty minutes pass. Enough time that his knees are probably permanently damaged from the concrete floor. When they come up for air, the young bondage couple and the salesperson are all staring intently. The woman in the lavender coat turns off the vibrator she’s holding.
“I’m still buying the cock ring,” Ari says into his ear.
“I figured,” he mutters, getting to his feet and pulling her up.
He feels her breathing slowly return to something like its normal rate and he can’t tell if there’s a hint of disappointment in her expression, or it’s just the smudged eyeliner.
“Since you’re so open-minded now”—she runs her hand along a display of restraints—“dare I ask where you currently stand on threesomes?”
“We become new people every four years.” Josh bends down and grabs the glass tentacle dildo off the floor. “Anything’s possible.”
She raises her eyebrows. “Score.”
He sets their purchases on the sleek, white counter, pausing for a beat. “As touched as I was, you know I would never agree to marry you with a fourteen-dollar silicone ring.”
She zips up her gray puffy coat. “Nothing but locally raised, farm-to-table plastic for you. I can grab the one with rabbit ears, if you—”
“Actually, I was thinking of something more tasteful,” he says. “Gold.”
“Okay, Moneybags. A gold cock ring sounds very tasteful.” Ari raises her eyebrows. “An investment piece?”
“More like an heirloom.” He reaches into his pocket for his wallet and pulls out a small black box, placing it on the counter. “I lied before,” he continues. “If we met in some other timeline, I couldn’t have gone back to my life like nothing happened. You would have fucking ruined me.”
The most beautiful smile in the world breaks slowly across her face.
He’s been carrying the ring around for a while, waiting for a surefire yes. But the truth is, he doesn’t need to calculate the probability that the whole thing could blow up in his face. Or the fact that most relationships fail. Or the absolute certainty of pain.
Maybe there’s no such thing as soulmates. Maybe there are only people who trust each other enough to begin something without being assured of the end.
“We can’t even get a proposal right on the first try,” she points out.
“We don’t need to do it again. Any of it.” He grabs the cock ring off the counter, his eyes never leaving her face. “You were perfect for me the first time.”
IN MEMORY OF LAURA MEYERS.
IT’S ALL A PROCESS.
Acknowledgments
THIS BOOK NEVER WOULD HAVE happened if not for agent extraordinaire Gaia Banks and her life-changing DM several years ago. I felt like Lana Turner being discovered at a soda fountain. I’m so grateful to you for seeing the potential through all the revisions, edits, pandemics, and time zones. There is entirely the correct amount of pepper on your paprikash.
From the very first call with my editor, Emma Caruso, I had the best vibes. You’ve pushed to make this book the best it can be, which makes you the greatest collaborator. You get me. I can never thank you enough. You’re right, you’re right, I know you’re right.
The biggest thanks to Whitney Frick and the amazing team at Dial Press: Jordan Pace, Corina Diez, Maria Braeckel, Debbie Aroff, Avideh Bashirrad, Erica Gonzalez. Thank you, Donna Cheng and Cassie Gonzalez, and thanks to Debbie Glasserman for bringing a Word document to life.