by S. M. Soto
“This is where you brought me?” I ask, referring to the tattoo shop.
“Figured I’d surprise you, before you could chicken out.”
I swat at his arm, laughing. “I would not have chickened out. What made you want to do this?”
“I thought we’d accomplish this. Something you said you always wanted.”
Tears spring to my eyes. I do remember telling him this is something I always wanted, but I was never sure what I would get. It may just be a tattoo to some, but it’s a whole hell of a lot more than that to me. It’s my freedom, a token of my time here. A chance to take advantage while I can. It’s the fact that he listened, when I didn’t think he would, that has me tearing up. This gesture is so much more.
He’s so much more.
“Roman Banks, I am so irrevocably in love with you.”
He grins down at me, his grip on my hand tightening in reassurance. “Come on.”
A bell dings, as we step into the tattoo shop. Two other people are sitting in the chairs, either waiting on someone getting tattooed or waiting to get their own. They’re a stunning couple. The woman is Latin, with dark brown hair and perfectly tan skin. She’s holding the hand of who I presume is her husband, since they’re both wearing wedding bands. He’s handsome and something about him gives me pause. I get the feeling that I know this person from somewhere, I just can’t put my finger on it.
“It’s not polite to stare,” Rome whispers in my ear, amusement tinging his tone.
“I know, but something about that guy is so familiar. Do we know him?”
Roman chuckles. “That’s Luke Caldwell. He was the all-star QB and wide receiver for SDSU, and now the San Francisco 49er’s wide receiver.”
My brows shoot up. “How are you not freaking out right now?”
Rome shrugs noncommittally. “I’m from Oakland, babe. I’m a Raider fan.”
I roll my eyes.
Men.
The woman behind the desk takes notice of us and shoots a smile our way. Her body is covered in colorful art, and her ears filled with piercings. She’s intimidating and wickedly gorgeous.
“Roman for the twelve o’clock appointment?”
Rome nods his answer, and the woman heads to the back, probably to grab the tattoo artist.
I glance up at him, brows furrowed. “Wow, you even made an appointment for us? Talk about serious business.”
He rolls his eyes. “Getting nervous yet?”
“Well, now that you’ve brought it up, yes.”
“You sure you want to do this?” he asks, concern creasing his brows. Warmth wraps around my heart, and I step into him, pressing a kiss to his lips.
“I’m sure. And I know just what I’m going to get.”
His lips quirk. “Mind sharing?”
“Oh, no. You’re going to wait until the final result, baby. It’s going to be a surprise.”
“Not really a surprise if I’m sitting there with you, is it?”
“You’ll be looking into my eyes, not staring at my back.”
He chuckles. The sound is filled with warmth, as it reverberates in his chest, rolling through my body in soothing waves. “You’re insane.”
“Says a lot about you, don’t you think?” I smirk, quite enjoying this back and forth. It’s helping take my mind off the fact I will be permanently marking my body soon.
Following my instructions to a T, Roman waits outside the room, while I explain to the tattoo artist what I want. When I lie down on the table, stomach down, my hand in Roman’s, gripping for dear life, I expect him to glance at my back, but keeping his word, he doesn’t look. He stares at me the entire time in that soft way he does. It’s the look he reserves just for me, and I love it. I bask in it.
No more than an hour later, my back is raw, and the muscles in my hand are sore from squeezing Roman’s hand so hard, but I’m finished. Roman helps me up from the padded table, toward the mirror that’s hanging on the wall opposite us. I gasp when I get a look at the tattoo. Somehow, the artist captured exactly what I had in mind.
Two sunflowers entwined together start just at my shoulder blades, in the center of my spine, in a soft watercolor. The stems trail down my spine into the words “Sunshine, heaven is always near” written in a light, delicate cursive.
Roman rubs the pad of his fingers around the tattoo, careful not to touch it.
“Do you like it?”
“Yeah.” His voice is raspy and low, and when I glance back at him, I smile. He’s remembering the words he said to me.
When it’s his turn, I sit on the chair beside the table, smiling when I see what he’s getting. The thrill in my core is ever present at the sight of it.
“Very original.”
He shoots me that signature crooked grin. “You already have my heart. Might as well put your name on it.”
I press a kiss to his lips. “You’re a little bit of a romantic, you know that?”
Roman grunts, obviously in disagreement.
We walk down the shopping center, hand in hand. After he finished with his tattoo, we grabbed a late lunch at the restaurant a block over, and now we’re walking around, killing time until Ryder gets out of school.
“What made you get that specific tattoo?” he asks.
“I’ve always felt that, with my heart condition, heaven was always nearer to me than it was for others. And then one day, out of the blue, you tell me, ‘Sunshine, heaven is always near when I’m with you,’ and it’s stayed with me since then. It felt like a sign. A sign that we were always destined. You get me like no one else ever has. This tattoo isn’t just a reminder of my condition; it’s a reminder that when I’m with you, I feel the same way. Heaven feels a lot nearer when I’m with you, Rome. I have my heaven here with you.”
There, on the sidewalk, with countless people walking by, Roman kisses me with a passion I’ve yet to experience before. It’s one people will go the rest of their lives searching for. Some, sadly, will never find it. It’s one for the books. One that touches my soul and dances with it. It entwines our hearts, bonding us together for life.
Roman Banks isn’t just my neighbor. He is the man who’s stolen my heart. The man who made me hate him and love him in equal measure. He is a different species—one of a kind—and he is mine.
I plan on holding on to this man, to this feeling, for as long as my heart will allow. Because this? This feeling right here, thrumming in the air between us, pounding through my heart, soaring through my veins, it’s perfection.
I feel like I belong.
I feel like I’ve finally found my place in the world.
I’ve finally found my person.
“The Bones”—Maren Morris
Three Years Later
I sit across from Ryder, waiting impatiently on the couch, for him to open the gift. My smile must be on the verge of lunacy because he keeps side-eyeing me, then glancing at his older brother for help. Roman is standing off to the side, watching both of us, those thick arms crossed over his chest. He lifts a shoulder in a helpless shrug, but he’s wearing a conspicuous smile of his own.
“C’mon, open it already,” I urge.
“Jesus. What is it, a million dollars?”
I shoot him a glare. “Just open it, would you? You’re ruining the moment.”
Ryder smirks, and it’s like a blow to the chest. There’s so much of his older brother in that one smirk, it’s kind of scary. The girls are in for a real treat.
I clasp my sweaty hands together, watching Ryder peel open the box I gave him. Trapping my bottom lip between my teeth, to stifle the smile that’s itching to spread across my face, I watch anxiously as he pops the lid off, frowning at the contents inside the box. He picks up the handwritten note, his eyes widening.
“This is my birthday gift?” he asks the question warily, like he honestly can’t believe we’d give this to him as a gift.
I laugh. “At least try to look a little more excited.”
“I mean, I’m
happy for you guys, but I think you could’ve just asked me this over dinner last night and that would’ve sufficed.”
“Fine.” I blow out a dramatic sigh, taking the box from him. “I’ll just find someone else to be our daughter’s godfather.”
“Ah, ah, ah!” He reaches back out for the box, taking it from me. “I never said I wouldn’t accept.”
I smirk. “You’re going to be an uncle and a godfather. Pretty exciting, right?”
Ryder rolls his eyes, indulging me. “Oh, yeah. Can’t imagine anything more exciting for a seventeen-year-old.”
“Well, hang on now. We’re not done. There’s one more thing your brother has for you.” I grin. Glancing back over my shoulder, I search Roman’s gaze. He’s hiding a smile of his own and jerks his chin toward the front door.
“C’mon.”
I follow the guys out of our new house, and I hear Ryder’s choked breath, the second he steps out onto the porch. There, in the driveway, next to Roman’s pride and joy, is the ’69 SS Camaro he’s been refurbishing back at the automotive garage for Ryder for the last few years. It’s almost identical to his in color, but the car itself is a different brand and model.
About two years ago, Roman and I made the decision to sell our houses and find something big enough for all of us. We didn’t really see the point in having sleepovers anymore. I spent most of my time at his place with Ryder, anyway, so it made the most sense to get our own place together. Our new place is a four bedroom and only two and half blocks away from our old neighborhood. It’s the perfect little place for all of us. I fell in love with it the second I saw it and knew it had to be ours.
“No fucking way,” Ryder whispers, running toward the car, his hand flying to his head. His eyes are wide, surprise written all over his face. I curl into Roman’s side, glancing up at him. Happiness radiates from him these days, just like it is right now. The way he’s looking at Ryder brings tears to my eyes.
“How do you like her?”
“I think I might cry,” Ryder admits.
“It’s the baby news that did you in, isn’t it?” I joke, making them both laugh. Ryder turns back toward the car, admiring her, practically fangirling. At the mention of the baby, Roman’s hand slides around my waist and rests on my stomach. His hand is so big it spans most of my stomach. I’m not showing yet, seeing as I’m only fourteen weeks, but the way Roman’s been coveting this child already, nothing else could ever bring me this level of happiness.
Settling my hand over his warm one, I squeeze. “I think you just won the award for best brother.”
“Think so?”
“I know so. Ryder is a lucky kid.” I turn in his arms, cupping his strong jaw in my hand. “He could’ve had a brother who didn’t love him half as much as you love him. But he doesn’t. He has you.”
Roman’s eyes soften, as he stares down at me. The blue looks lighter than usual, almost white, just like Max’s.
“Can I take it out for a drive?” Ryder asks, dragging our attention back to him.
I blow out a sigh. “Yes. But you have to be home by dinner. And no girls in the car!”
Roman tosses Ryder the keys, and he catches them effortlessly, jumping in. He runs his hand over the dash, before he starts her up. The smile that spreads across his face, as the muscle car roars to life, has me choking up.
Jesus. These hormones are not a joke.
Ry waves at us, as he pulls out of the driveway, and Max barks at the car, as it roars down our quiet street. I get a pang in my chest, just thinking about the moment he graduates. Having Ryder gone while he’s off at college is going to be tough. As if sensing where my thoughts are headed, Roman presses a kiss to the side of my head.
“C’mon, let’s head inside. You look tired.”
As if his words were a trigger for the sleepiness to take over, I let out a long yawn. “I am. Your baby is draining me already, Mr. Banks. Can you imagine what she’ll be like when she’s here, terrorizing everyone, just like you?”
Roman tosses his head back and laughs, taking my hand in his, as we walk back inside. “How can you be so sure it’s a girl? Could be a little boy in there destined to terrorize.”
“A mother knows these things.”
He swats my butt, jerking his head toward the bedroom. “Go lie down. I’ll bring you some water.”
I sigh. “You’re too good to me.”
Crawling onto the bed, I let out a tired huff of air. These spurts of sleepiness hit me randomly. I can feel completely fine, until I climb onto this bed, then, unbeknownst to me, I’ll fall asleep. It’s not even like I’ve been working crazy hours; my schedule at the clinic has been relatively light compared to when I first started. If anything, Roman should be the one who’s tired. He puts in so many hours at the garage for George. I know he does it because he loves it, but I still worry about him overexerting himself. Though, I guess all the years he put in at George’s have come in handy. George mentioned he was looking for someone to take over the garage when he was ready to retire, and he was looking at Roman. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so damn proud of himself.
Max trots into the bedroom, stopping at my side of the bed. Resting his head on the edge, he stares up at me. I reach over, scratching behind his ears and petting his smooth coat.
“Hey, buddy. Are you feeling tired, too?”
Max lifts his front paw onto the bed, and it’s then I notice the little box attached to his collar. I frown. The box is small, dangling from a string that Roman must have tied onto it. Sensing someone’s gaze on me, I glance up near the bedroom door and find Rome, leaning against the doorjamb, arms crossed over his chest, watching me.
“What’s this?”
“Just a little gift for you.”
“For me? What for?”
His mouth inches up, like he wants to grin. “Open it and find out.”
My stomach dips, and I reach for the box, sliding it out of the string. It’s light in my hands, and my heart is suddenly pounding in my chest, as I slide off the lid. My breath gets lodged in my throat, and my hands tremble, when I see the velvet lid of the smaller box inside.
Sucking in a lungful of air, I drop the velvet box in my hands, and when I open it, a hand flies to my mouth to stifle the gasp.
“Roman,” I whisper in awe, staring down at the ring. It’s gorgeous. The large diamond in the center reflects the light, sparkling beautifully.
During the last year and a half, we’ve talked a lot about marriage, and whether it was something we wanted or not. But because I didn’t want to get my hopes up, I mentioned numerous times that I wasn’t sure if I wanted to get married. How could I, when our future wouldn’t be promised? So every time the discussion was on the table, I vetoed it. Pretending it wasn’t what I wanted. But of course, Roman saw right through my lies. He always does.
I do want to get married to this man. More than I’ve ever wanted anything. I just didn’t want to be selfish. I didn’t want to force the issue, but the fact that he’s here with a ring, proposing to me, anyway? It’s everything.
He is everything.
When I glance up and find him beside the bed on his knee, the first round of tears slides down my cheeks. I slap a hand over my mouth, trying to quell the urge to scream in joy. There are so many emotions rioting inside me, I’m having a tough time pinning it down to just one. All I’m really sure of is that I’m happy. So goddamn happy I can’t even breathe.
“I had this extravagant dinner planned out, where I was going to ask you to marry me, and it was perfect, but I couldn’t wait any longer. I love you, Olivia Rene Hales. I love you like I’ve never loved anyone before. You have my entire heart. Your grasp on my soul is eternal, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?”
“Yes!” I sob, throwing my arms around his neck and dragging him into me. The pads of my fingers dig into his flesh and I hold him there, soaking everything about this moment in, never wanting to let go. He pulls back, pressing
his lips against mine, in a kiss that I feel travel through me in waves. It’s a kiss that I feel settle deep in my bones.
Roman takes the box from me and slides the ring onto my finger. I’m not surprised that it’s a perfect fit. Everything about this proposal is so beyond perfect, I don’t even care that he couldn’t wait to do this over a fancy dinner. I’d take him proposing with a goddamn Ring Pop and still be overjoyed. Because it’s from Roman, my dream man.
“You couldn’t do this sooner? My dad’s going to kill you for getting me pregnant before marriage,” I tease. Our next baby announcement was going to be for my brother and parents, but I guess that won’t be the only thing we’re announcing, when we head down to Long Beach to visit them next weekend.
Roman snorts. “We’ve done everything ass backward, so why would this be any different? Plus, your parents want to see photos of the engagement, so maybe we’ll still do that fancy dinner after all, just to keep the illusion that I do deserve you.”
My bottom lip trembles. “I love you, Roman Banks. That means I’ll tell this proposal story to all our children and grandchildren because it’s ours. The real version. Not some cookie-cutter bullshit that isn’t us.” I press a kiss to his lips, and when we pull away, gasping for breath, I keep looking from the ring back to this man. This moment still feels so surreal. When I moved into that house, never in a million years, did I think my neighbor would be a man like Roman. Never could I have imagined that I’d fall into such a deep hate with that neighbor and slowly fall irrevocably in love with him.
I glance down at Max, who’s standing beside Rome, staring up at us, his head cocked to the side.
“Maxie, you were in on this?” I choke, emotion clogging my throat. He barks in response, making both of us laugh.
Sitting up, I wrap my arms around Rome and tug him onto the bed with me. His mouth works mine, trailing from my lips down to my neck, lingering there, until I’m squirming on the sheets from the magic that is his tongue.
When he reaches for the hem of my shirt, and I reach for his, I proceed to make love to the man who owns my entire heart.
