Page 88 of Oblivion

“Hunter and Bunny’s place still needs to be decorated, but Bastian and Starling’s and Clay and January’s houses are both ready to move into.”

“Do you think they’ll move off campus?” she asks, her voice wary.

“It all depends on the girls. Bastian, Hunter, and I all have to graduate eventually. Clay is a genius, and he can keep doing degrees and master’s to keep himself busy while January finishes her degree, but the rest of us don’t really want to commit to anything unless it’s business school, and even then, we don’t really need it.”

“Oh.” Her voice is practically a whisper, and I hate it.

“We already decided that we’d split our senior class load over two years, so you girls only have your senior year left at school after we graduate.”

“So, Starling, Bunny, January, and I would stay in Collinswood while you lived here?” she asks.

“No,” I laugh. “Once we’re married, and Hunter and Bunny’s house is finished, I think we’ll all move into our homes, then just commute to school.”

“I guess that makes sense,” she says, and I swear I hear relief in her voice.

The water is cooling by the time I’ve washed and conditioned Sammy until her muscles are goo and her eyes are half lidded.

“Can we just go back to bed?” she whines as I lift her out of the tub and wrap her in a huge fluffy towel.

“Not today, but once we finish class, we can come back and spend the entire weekend here. You can have a proper look around and see if there’s anything you want to change.”

“Why would I want to change something in your house?” she asks.

“Because it’s your home too.”

“No, it’s not. It’s yours. You designed it and had it built and decorated. It’s yours.”

“Sammy, you’re going to be my wife in a couple of weeks. Everything I’ve got is yours. If you don’t like this house, I’ll get it knocked down, and you can design a new one. If you don’t like the way it’s decorated, I’ll arrange for you to meet with an interior designer and you can pick out whatever you want. This is your home. It’ll beourhome, for the rest of our lives. We’ll live here, bring our kids home to here, raise them here, retire here, and be happy here.”

“Evan,” Sammy says my name, but I speak over her.

“I’m fucking serious, Sammy. I had this place decorated because I didn’t think I’d ever be able to claim you as mine. But if you decide you want a life-size replica of the Barbie Dreamhouse, I’ll get it built for you. I’d give you fucking anything to make you happy. Don’t you know that?”

Her eyes go soft as she pushes up onto her tiptoes and wraps her arms around my neck. “You make it very hard to hate you, Evan Morris,” she admits, sweetly.

Smiling, I dip my chin and kiss her, keeping it light despite the need to claim her burning in my chest.

“You had your chance to hate me yesterday, but you agreed to marry me instead.”

“I thought you said you didn’t ask me,” she taunts.

“I didn’t, but you still could have hated me while I told you you were marrying me,” I tell her with a smirk. “It’s not my fault you missed your chance. Today, you only get to love me.”

Sighing exaggeratedly, she purses her lips like she’s going to say something, but I kiss her again, then lift her off her feet andcarry her into the closet. Her eyes go wide when she takes in the rails full of clothes I ordered for her.

“What is all this?” she questions, like it’s not obvious.

“Clothes,” I say mockingly as I take boxers from the dresser and pull them on.

“Where did all this stuff come from?”

“I ordered them for you.”

“Why?”

“Because I wanted to.” I chuckle.

“Am I never going to pick my own clothes again?” There’s a hint of anger lacing her words, but I ignore it. If she wants to think that buying her clothes is the most offensive thing I’ve done to her in the last twenty-four hours, I’m happy to let her keep believing that.

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