“I’ll make you a deal,” I whisper against his neck and scrape my nail across his crown lightly. “I stay tonight, leave in the morning, and we’ll see if you can convince me to break the doctor’s orders.”
He leans back, and the heated hunger in his stare tells me I’ve won.
“You don’t fight fair, but I’ll fold. As much as I hate to admit it, my movements are restricted. You’re in charge.”
I lick my lips and scoot away, lifting my shirt over my head. “I think I can handle being in charge.”
His eyes widen and then rake over my chest. “Somehow, I get the impression you had this planned.”
“I’ll deny ‘til I die.” I giggle and watch his lips tip into a sideways grin.
“Now, I have about eighteen hours to convince you to stay home and rest this week. I’d better get to work.”
“Not going to happen, but it’ll be fun to see you try.”
“Famous last words, Bryce Randolph.” I straddle him and grind our hips together until he groans.
I mentally pat myself on the back. He doesn’t stand a chance.
*****
Getting back into a routine takes a day. It’s amazing how much has happened in the last few weeks, but when I get home, nothing’s changed. Thanks to my friends and classmates, all my assignments are caught up and projects on time.
After spring break, we have seven weeks until graduation. Quinn and I were officially accepted into the MFA program last night, so tonight, we’re celebrating with the others who received the same news.
The bar is packed for a Thursday when we arrive and spot our group in the back corner. No one specifically questions me about Bryce, but they all give encouraging smiles, followed by rounds of shots.
By ten o’clock, I’m feeling no pain and finally letting the stress go. Quinn takes charge, sending a text to Bryce. His reply is not surprising.
Bryce: Take care of my girl. Buy a round on me. Devon has my card.
She obeys and orders drinks for the whole table. The conversation shifts to simple things, like summer plans, next year’s program, and professors we’re scared of.
We all freeze when the waitress walks up with another round, saying it was called in from Professor Henry Grant and his wife, Shana Willis Grant. She wanted to congratulate everyone.
Cheers erupt around the table. Quinn shoots her a quick text, thanking her.
I clink bottles with Eric, Crystal, and Kenny in celebration of our accomplishments. After all I’ve gone through the last few weeks, I deserve this.
Sometime during the night, Quinn and I send a video to Bryce and Dean, singing an obnoxious version of “Marry Me” by Jason Derulo.
The message I get back sends my heart racing.
Bryce: I already married you. It’s your turn to marry me.
Chapter 37
June 19th
Destin, Florida
The day is finally here, and nothing can tame the butterflies swarming in my stomach. All the women in my life run around the bridal suite in a tizzy while I sit on the couch, watching them calmly. Quinn starts to mess with my hair, and I slap away her hand.
“Can you stop?”
“Why does it feel like I’m more nervous than you are?”
“Because you probably are. The only nerves I have are filled with excitement.”