Page 144 of Embracing the Beat
The TV draws our attention, the announcers’ voices getting louder as they count down, and I hand Michaela her cider as we both turn to watch the TV. As soon as she’s focused there, I set my cider down, wiping my clammy hands on my pajama pants.
“Seven…six…five…four…three…two…one. Happy New Year!”
I sink to the floor, and she spins around, her eyes widening when she takes in my crouch.
“What are you doing?”
Without looking, I reach behind the pillow and pull out the box, opening it while my other hand finds hers.
“I love you,” I tell her. “You were the best surprise I ever received. Every day I wake up convinced I couldn’t love you more, and every night I go to bed more in love with you than before. I didn’t think it was possible to love someone so much. But I do. I love you. I love our baby. I can’t picture a future without you in it. Tonight’s a new year, a new beginning, and I want to begin it with you by my side. Planning our future together. Michaela Grace King, will you marry me?”
Tears shimmer in her eyes, and she stares at me long enough that I worry I rushed this.
“Yes,” she whispers against her hands.
“Yes?” I ask, the smile stretching across my face.
Flinging her arms around my neck, she squeezes me tight, her lips finding mine.
“Yes,” she says against my lips. “I love you so much.”
I kiss her again quickly before pulling back to bring the ring box between us. I slide the simple solitaire band down her finger, kissing her knuckle where it rests.
“It’s beautiful,” she says.
“I wish I could afford something more—” I start, but she stops my words with a kiss that leaves us both breathless.
“No. This is perfect,” she says. “Absolutely perfect.”
“Happy New Year, baby,” I whisper and pull her closer to me.
“Happy New Year.” Her smile is bright, her eyes full of love.
I love the way she looks right now, and I’m never going to forget this moment.
My lips are almost to hers when her phone rings, vibrating against the table.
“Nick,” she tells me with a shrug.
“Answer it.”
She puts the phone on speaker.
“Hello?”
“Don’t you ever check your texts?” he asks.
“Not when I’m busy getting engaged,” she retorts, grinning at me.
“Engaged?” he asks, and a squeal comes from the background. “Congratulations. From both of us.”
Meredith echoes the congratulations.
“Thank you,” we say in unison.
“What did you text me?” Michaela asks.
“A link. Billboard Top 100.”
