There was clapping behind us, and I realized it was Marc, Wilder, and a few nosy ass spectators who no doubt wanted to know what all the soft music and flowers were about.
Tuning them out, I claimed her lips again, feeling every bit of the tension I’d been carrying dissipate. I had my woman back, and sooner than later, she would be my wife.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Doll,” I said in her ear.
She smiled brightly. “Happy Valentine’s Day, baby.” We remained in each other’s arms silently for a minute before she spoke again.
“Are you serious about me quitting my job?” she asked, resting her head on my chest.
“As a heart attack. I want you to focus your energy on being happy. If being my pretty ass housewife makes you happy, do that shit. If you wanna finally start your talent agency, let’s make it happen. You’re done working for a person who doesn’t appreciate or deserve you.”
Rising on her toes, she pecked my lips again.
Gazing up at me, she said, “I want to start my agency.”
I nodded. “Cool.”
“And I want you to be my first client.”
I chuckled. I was urging her to chase her dreams, and she was indirectly encouraging me to do the same. That right there was why I knew she was it for me. My Doll was one of one.
I kissed her and nodded again. “Cool.”
She smiled up at me. “It’s just that easy, huh?”
“I told you the world is yours, Dylan Ivie. You thought I was playin’?”
Blushing, she shook her head.
Before I could even kiss her again, I heard Marc’s ass hollering.
“That’s what the hell I’m talkin’ ’bout. It’s about damn time,” he said, walking up to us with a goofy grin.
Dy laughed as she pulled away from me to hug him. He kissed her temple and said, “Congrats, sis. I’m happy for you and my boy.”
Wilder walked up next, sniffling and wiping her eyes.
“D, you got me out here cryin’, and you know I’m not like that,” she said, breaking up Dy and Marc’s hug to pull her best friend into her arms. I chuckled.
“So I assume you had something to do with all this?” Dy asked, smirking at Wilder. Wilder grinned.
“Maybe alittlesomethin’ somethin’.”
I laughed and turned to Dy. “Your best friend is bossy as hell.”
“She’s rude as hell, too. Dylan was my damn friend first, so don’t come over here breakin’ our shit up,” he said, placing an arm around Dylan’s shoulder.
Wilder’s face tightened. “Do it look like I give a damn? You couldn’t compete with my spot in that girl’s life on ya best day, boo. And if I’m rude, you’reloudas hell. Do better.”
I pulled my girl into my arms, and we laughed as our best friends started arguing. None of that fake tension was fooling me, though. I peeped the way Marc was eyeing Wilder. She was definitely his type, and it wouldn’t be long before he tried to shoot his shot.
“Y’all done?” Dy asked, still laughing. “Because if you are, I wanna actually get a funnel cake.”
Marc smirked. “You know I could do this all day, Dy. But I’ma let her live. Just because you asked.”
Rolling her eyes, Wilder said, “Boy, bye.Anyway, congratulations, best friend. Y’all did that. Now let’s find some food.”
As we all headed to the food trucks, I felt a sense of relief as I wrapped my fiancée in my arms. The reality of almost losing her had me tripping for the last few days, but now that we were back on track, I swore that would be the last time I ever let her get away from me.