Sweet Ache

“Blind bet,” he asserts and just puts his finger against my lips when I start to disagree. “Loser gets a pink heart on the inside of their wrist in Bent fashion.”

“Hawke …” I look at him as if he’s crazy despite the small thrill that just courses through me over the thought that not only does he love me, but he considers me one of the guys. That’s pretty damn cool. “What are …? I don’t … You already have one! That’s not fair.”

“Agree? Yes or no,” he says, continuing with his little display of authority, which is kind of hot.

I narrow my eyes and stare at him, knowing full well I’m going to agree despite not knowing the terms of this bet. When I don’t respond quickly enough for his liking, he starts tickling me.

“Stop! Stop!” I cry out and try to wriggle away from him to no avail.

“Agree, then.” He laughs.

“Okay! Okay! I agree!” And the minute the words are out of my mouth, he stops his tickle torture.

Our residual laughter fills the room as we both take a second to catch our breath. “I knew you’d see my way of thinking.” When I just roll my eyes, he continues. “So, loser gets a pink heart, right? You get one or I make mine bigger. Agreed?”

“Yes.” I nod my head cautiously.

“Sweet. I guess we better get a future appointment lined up for you with Sledge, then,” he says, making a show of smacking his hands together and rubbing them back and forth in triumph.

“Wait! You’re already declaring victory and I don’t even know the bet yet!”

“Yep!” He falls silent to torture me on purpose.

“The bet, Play …” My patience is waning.

“You have your career to build and we have so much more to experience together first, so not in the immediate future …” He pauses, and we stare at each other for a beat as that slow, shy smile I love lights up his face. “But I bet you that you’ll say yes.”

“Say yes?” What is he talking about? “I say ‘yes’ all the time, so you’re going to have to be a little more specific. Say ‘yes’ to what?” And as the last comment falls from my lips, it dawns on me just what he’s saying to me. The lump forms in my throat instantly, followed by goose bumps blanketing my body. My mind tries to catch up with my heart, but for the first time in forever I don’t want it to. I want to live in the moment. I search his eyes, the emotion in them giving me an answer way before he speaks.

“When I ask you to marry me.”

It’s funny. I figured this was what he was going to say, but hearing it out loud still causes my heart to skip a beat. My smile is so wide my cheeks hurt. “That’s a good question,” I murmur with a calm composure that completely contradicts my racing pulse and overload of happiness.

He pulls me tighter against him, and I hum in contentment as I settle into the comfort of him, knowing the answer I’ll give when the time comes, without a doubt in my mind. It may be a long time off, and we might have more sour notes to face along the way, but Hawkin Play has definitely claimed my heart.

And then it hits me. I snap my head up and look at him as if he’s crazy. “Wait a minute. You’re betting me that I’m going to say no?”

“Took you long enough.” He laughs and presses a kiss to my forehead. “Gotta hedge my bet somehow and your reaction just let me know that I’m going to win this one hands down.”

He stops my sigh of exasperation by pressing his lips to mine. It’s so easy to slip into the kiss with him, so damn natural I feel like everything that has been lacking in my love life for so long finally clicks into place.

And I know that bet or no bet, it doesn’t matter, because this man has wrapped himself around my heart, and I don’t ever want to let him go. I can’t wait to see our future unfold.

Note by note.

Beat by beat.

Song by song.

Instrument by instrument.