Page 231 of The Storm

Nick’s in the kitchen—of course—hands moving calmly, head lowered, eyes aimed at the cutting board in front of him.

I stand, and I watch him.

It’s been a long time since he was the angry guy from our teenage years. Nick at thirty is relaxed, confident, and completely at ease in his own skin. There’s a small smile on his face.

My heart jumps in my chest like it always does when I’m near him. He walks out of the kitchen and straight at me. His strides determined, he doesn’t stop before he’s right in front of me. His hand goes into my hair. His other hand settles on the small of my back. His lips cover mine, and my pulse becomes audible in my ears.

“You’re late,” he whispers against my lips.

“No cabs with the rain,” I say. “So I walked.”

“I would’ve picked you up.”

“I know,” I say.

“I missed you.”

“Good,” I say.

He laughs softly.

I look around the room. “We should start setting up, right? The others will start arriving soon.”

“Not tonight,” he says.

I frown. “No? Did I mess up the days or something?”

“It’s a date night,” he says. “Just for you and me.”

He takes my hand and pulls me forward. The table has been set. I didn’t notice with my tunnel vision of him.

I walk to the table and slide my fingertips over the edge.

I smile. “Romantic.”

When I turn around, though, it feels like my breath suddenly gets stuck somewhere in my lungs.

It’s Nick. And instead of standing, he’s now down on one knee. My hands start to shake immediately, and my heart is hammering in my chest.

“Blue,” he says. “You’re the best part of my days. The best part of my life. And somehow, every day I fall for you more and more. I…” There’s a sheen in his eyes now. I fall on my knees next to him. He lets out a wet laugh. “Damnit,” he says. “I had a speech.”

My smile is so wide that it makes my cheeks ache.

“Are you asking me to marry you, Nicholas?” I ask.

He takes a deep breath and runs his tongue over his lips. Swallows. “Blue,” he says.

“Yes,” I blurt. “Absolutely, one hundred percent yes.”

He laughs through the tears running freely down his cheeks now. “You took much less convincing than I figured you would.”

I laugh, too, and bury my face in his neck. “I love you.”

He takes my hand and slides a ring on my finger. It’s black with a narrow stripe of emerald running through the middle.

“I want to be yours forever,” he says. “If you’ll have me.”

“Nicholas,” I whisper, laughing through tears. “I’ve been yours since we were nineteen.”

He kisses me.

After all those years.

After all the storms.

For the longest time I’d thought we’d missed our chance.

Turns out, we were just getting started.