Page 55 of Sing Your Heart Out

“Take your pants off,” I command, trying not to sound as breathless as I feel. “I want you inside me.”

He withdraws his fingers and picks me up, carrying me to the bed. He sits me down, unbuttoning his belt, then he hesitates.

“Sarah—”

“Are you going to fuck me or not?” I ask, rolling onto my stomach and getting onto all fours.

He sits down on the bed, still partially dressed, and caresses my naked ass. “I want to ask you something first.”

I collapse, rolling over to look at him. “Anything.”

He lifts the ring box from where he’s tucked it away beside his leg. I look at it and begin to tremble.

“Sarah,” he says, sliding off the bed and onto one knee. “I’ve been doing a lot of soul searching lately. I’ve been thinking that I don’t want to be alone, that I want to spend my life with someone. And when I think of sharing my life with someone, I can’t think of anyone but you.”

I put my fingers to my lips, unable to speak. He opens the ring box, showing the dazzling diamond ring within.

“I know we’ve both make mistakes. But I want to spend my life with you. I want us to figure things out together.” He pauses and takes a huge breath. “Sarah, I love you. Will you marry me?”

I burst into tears, nodding vigorously.

“Yes?” he asks, smiling. He cups my cheek, which makes me cry even harder. I cover his hands with mine.

“Yes! Yes.” I am crying and laughing at the same time, nodding like an idiot.

He plucks the ring from its box. Taking my left hand, he carefully slides the ring onto my fourth finger. He looks up at me and I beam at him, my tears receding.

Smith stands up and sits beside me on the bed. I hug him again, and he wraps his arms around me.

“You really love me?” I whispered.

“I really, honestly do,” he replies, brushing some of my hair out of my face with his fingertips.

I am quiet for a long time.

“What will we do about my songwriting contract? I’m supposed to leave in a few hours…” I ask, my voice quiet.

He looks at me, then shrugs and smiles.

“You know, we’ll figure that out together tomorrow. We have all the time in the world,” he says.

I smile and nod, putting my hand on his chest. “Tomorrow, we do all the serious stuff. Tonight… we play.”

“Oh yeah?” he asks, a glint of something carnal in his eyes.

I pull him down and straddle him, sweeping back my long hair before kissing him.

“Oh yeah,” I affirm.

Because he is right — we do have all the time in the world to figure things out.

Throwing my head back, I grin. I’ll start the clock on theirforevertomorrow.

21

Smith

Exactly One Year Later

---