Page 62 of When We Breathe
And I’m theirs.
With our drinks in hand, we walk into the living room and sit with Alex. I sit next to her on the couch, and Adam sits on the coffee table, facing us.
He’s so fucking handsome in his jeans and black sweater. Again, as if he’s reading my thoughts, he grins at me and winks.
Smug fucker.
“How are you doing, Shorty?” I brush her hair behind her ear and drift my fingertips down her neck.
“You two spoiled the shit out of me this morning. I’m pretty damn good.”
We really did go a tad overboard on the Christmas presents, but she’s ours, we love her, and dammit, we’ll buy her whatever she wants.
We don’t need a holiday to do it, but it helps.
“We’re not quite done,” Adam says before clearing his throat. We didn’t really rehearse this. We wanted to speak from the heart.
Now I wish I had a script because I’m too nervous to come up with anything romantic.
“You really need to be done,” Alex says, shaking her head. “I can’t handle any more presents. I’ll get paper cuts.”
I smirk and lift her hand to my lips, nibbling her knuckles. “You’re cute.”
“We love you,” Adam begins, and my stomach rolls over. “More than anything.”
“I know.” She smiles at us both. “I love you, too. It’s a pretty good deal.”
“We want you to marry us, Princess.”
She blinks, her gaze shifts between the two of us, and then she frowns. “I think that’s illegal.”
“Technically, you’d legally marry one of us, but we’d have a wedding committing all of us together.”
“No.” She shakes her head, scowling, and I think I might throw up.
I lift an eyebrow at Adam, but he just smiles, still completely calm.
Why isn’t he freaking the fuck out?
“What do you mean, no?” I ask her. I’m impressed that I sound so chill right now.
“I don’t want it to be legal with only one of you. How would we choose? You two could legally marry. Or I could marry one of you. And I don’t like any of those options.”
She’s shaking her head, her mind made up.
“Then what do you suggest?” Adam asks her, leaning forward to take my hand to calm me.
Because I amnotcalm.
“I want the wedding,” she admits shyly. “I want to stand before our families and friends and commit ourselves to each other, but the legal part of it doesn’t sit well.”
“But there are benefits to that,” I remind her. “Insurance and medical privileges.”
“Oh, so if I’m in the hospital, I’m supposed to beokay with only one of you being allowed in with me while the other worries himself into an early grave and harasses the staff?” She shakes her head. “I feel like there could be jealousies, even if we don’t mean to. Because I’ll be honest, if you two legally married, and I wasn’t in on that, I would throw a fit.”
“So what do I do with this ring?” Adam holds the engagement ring we bought her, and her whole face softens. “You don’t want it?”
“Fuck yes, I want it.”
