A few weeks after the concert at The Greek, I decided it was time to ask her to be my wife. I wanted her to be mine in every sense of the word, more than anything I had ever wanted. My plan to pop the question was simple. Take her to one of her favorite places and ask her. Getting her there was just as simple. All I had to do was suggest we go for a sunset run; she always wants to go running. But arranging it all to go as planned was not so simple. There were so many restrictions and variables, so I just decided to keep it simple.
Pulling into the parking lot, it was late afternoon and one of the hottest days of the summer. Walking up to the hiker’s gate entrance, she steps forward and smirks at me, leaving just a few inches between us. “You sure you want to do this? Because I know, just as well as you do, that this little climb isn’t going to be easy in the scorching sun, and I’m not afraid to admit it.” She steps back, and I can see her eyes are deep brown as she smiles her mischievous, seductive grin.
She lunges forward to stretch, touching her fingers to her toes as her sweat pants ride down her h*ps a little. Damn, she’s good. She knows I’m powerless against her when she struts her body around like that. It drives me crazy, but what she doesn’t know is, I’m making this almost four mile up hill hike in the blistering sun for a greater purpose than seeing the view from behind the Hollywood sign. So I play her game and hmmm. . . and haaa . . . a little so she thinks I really don’t want to do this. Damn, I’m the good one. I even paid off the guard to stop anyone from following behind us. This way, when we reach the top of the hill, we will be all alone. Just the way I need it to be.
I fold my arms over my chest and watch her.
She walks down the path and turns her head over her shoulder asking, “You coming?” I run up behind her and pick her up. She squirms to try to free herself and she could if she really wanted to because her backpack is keeping me from really holding on tight. I set her down and laugh in her ear, “You know I never turn down a challenge.”
She is still laughing when she turns to look at me, and her beauty takes my breath away. She is just so natural and carefree. I have no doubts this is the girl for me—forever. With her I’ve had the best days of my life and there are only better ones to come.
As we approach the top, we’re walking single file up the dirt trail. My eyes follow her every move as she leans forward, stepping up onto the plateau.
She takes her camera out of her backpack. “I just want to snap a few photos before the sun loses its glow.”
Before handing it to me, she slips her Pac-Man bracelet off and zips it safely away. “Do you mind holding this while I climb up the H?”
“You sure that’s safe?” I ask because I’ve never heard of anyone actually climbing up the letters.
She sees the worry on my face. “Hey, sure it is.” She points to the letter and says, “It’s not that high.”
“Beautiful, first of all, it is that high but I’m not thinking of up,” I say as I point down into the valley. “I’m thinking of down.”
Taking a sip of water, she nods and kisses me. “I’ll be right back,” she says as she hands me her water bottle.
“Hey,” I yell as she climbs the fence to get closer to the letters, leaving me holding all of her shit, “What do I look like? A pack mule?”
She looks over and winks at me. “Never thought of you that way. A jackass maybe on occasion, but not a mule.”
I take a gulp from her water bottle, set everything on the ground, and follow her. Does she really think I’m going to let her climb up there alone?
Standing below the H, the letters are enormous. “Umm . . . Dahlia, I’m not sure you can do this. There is nothing for you to grip onto. You’d have to pull all of your body weight up the pole.”
“Are you saying I can’t?”
“I’m saying, you more than likely won’t be able too.”
“Care to make a bet?”
Shaking my head at her, all I can do is laugh. “Baby girl, I’m not even going to bet you on that because it would just be plain wrong.”
With her camera hanging from her neck, she pouts her lips and folds her arms over each other, surveying the letter.
“Dahlia, just give me your camera, I’ll take the picture.”
She stands there, still pouting. Removing the camera from her neck, she hands it to me.
Walking up to her, I take it and whisper in her ear, “Watch out, you know what your bitchy mood does to me. That look was so hot.”
True to form, she rolls her eyes and then takes a seat on the ground.
Somehow I manage to pull myself up to the first rafter and balance against the cross beams to take the picture my girl really wants.
Getting down, I give her the camera and she hands me the water. I finish the bottle and toss it next to our stuff.
She comes to stand between my legs and presses up against me, chest on chest, cupping my cheek with one hand and slipping her other hand into the waistband of my track pants. “Thank you.”
My pulse jumps and my whole body responds, but I have a question to ask her and even though her sudden movement and closeness have me standing straight up, I have a plan that I have to stick to right now.
My voice takes on a husky tone all on its own. “Unless you want to be n*ked very soon, I think it’s for the best if you don’t touch me like that up here.”
Pulling up my t-shirt I wipe the sweat from my face as her hands instantly find the bare skin of my abs. I do my best to ignore the overwhelming need I have for her by chanting, ‘Stick to the task at hand, stick to the task at hand,’ to myself, and I walk over to the back pack and unzip one of the compartments and discreetly tuck the box in the waistband of my pants, careful for her not to see.
“What are you looking for?” she asks.
“My phone, I wanted to see what time it was,” I tell her as I quickly pull out my phone.
I know she’s watching me from behind, so I twist my head. Her smile, her eyes, her amazing beauty stops me in my tracks. I don’t even wink or make a comment. I just know by the way she’s looking at me right now, that this is the right time.
Walking back over to her, I lean in, clutch her face with both hands, and start to kiss her. I trace the seam of her lips with my tongue and she opens her mouth. Pressing my lips harder against hers, our tongues meet and I feel our souls connect, in the exact same way she described it to me on her birthday. The moment couldn’t be any more perfect. The sun is starting to set over the horizon; the city we live in together is below us; and the sign she loves so much envelops us.
Dropping down on one knee, I look up at her beautiful face. I can already see tears starting to form in her eyes as I begin to speak. “I never imagined I could feel so connected to anyone as much as I feel connected to you. I knew I loved you from the moment I saw you. How could I not? Loving you is as easy as breathing.”
I open the box where the custom-made diamond encrusted pearl ring sits. Like her necklace the pearl sits inside a flower, a dahlia, but unlike her necklace the flower sits on top of a thread of eternity diamonds, representing my love everlasting. Taking the ring out of the box, my hands are shaking so badly as I set it on the ground and stand. I want to look directly into her beautiful eyes when I ask her the most important question I will ever ask anyone in my life.
“Dahlia London, you know I love you more than any man has ever loved a woman. My love for you runs deeper than any words can convey. My heart is yours forever. Will you marry me?”
I’m still shaking, I’m so f**king nervous, this girl owns me and the fact that I want it that way scares the living shit out me and makes me the happiest man alive.
Her words are the words I’ve been waiting to hear since the minute I laid eyes on her. “Yes, yes, yes, yes . . .” Her yes’s continue until I pull her to me and kiss her like I’ve never kissed her before. All the love I have for her is pouring out of my heart and into hers. She wraps her arms around my neck as tightly as she can and I swing her around in circles. Once I set her back down, I take her hand and slide the ring on her finger. It’s the perfect ring for the perfect girl.
Her tears are streaming down her face, and they are not letting up. I hug her as tight as I can. Whispering into her ear, I say, “Hey baby, it’s okay. This is a happy time. Not a time for all these tears.”
Kissing her neck, I graze my teeth over her skin, and she giggles. I pull back and wipe her tears with my fingers, and I can’t help but smile at her when I see goosebumps on her arms. I want to cry with her, I’m so happy, but I don’t. Instead, I just look at her. At the same girl who, when I first saw her across the room our eyes met and our souls were forever connected.
Chapter Twenty-Six
VICTIM
Yes it’s real
There are victims of crime
Sometimes it can’t be prevented
They need help to shelter the pain
Sometimes we are just victims of a crime.
River’s POV
September 2012 - 9 months later…
Picking the location for our weekend getaway was simple. I know Dahlia loves beautiful views and the outdoors, so I picked a place where we can enjoy both. The reason for our weekend getaway wasn’t so simple. The band finished the album and the label is getting ready for it to drop, the promotional bonanza has begun, and the tour starts in six weeks. With all the chaos about to begin, I wanted to spend some time alone, just the two of us, so I didn’t tell anyone where we were going and wanted to surprise her by bringing her here.
Once the album promotion begins, I know our life together will change for a while. I’ve been through it before. It will be months of craziness. We’ll be living on a bus, in a different city every night, crammed together without any privacy. I’m doing this for Garrett, Nix, and Xander because if it were only for myself, I’d gladly stay in LA playing small venues, making music, and living life with her.
Dahlia’s extremely excited for me; it’s me that’s not so excited. I like the life we have going in LA. She’s agreed to start the tour off with me but has to return to LA to complete some jobs that have to be shot before the end of the year. I hate that she’ll be alone. I feel like she’s already spent so much time alone in her life. Now that she has me, I don’t ever want that for her again.
Bell suggested Monterey Bay for our escape, but I nixed that idea immediately. Dahlia grew up on the beach; she loves it, and actually, so do I. But the reason that it’s not one of my favorite places to take her, is him. We’ve gone to the beach a few times, mostly when we go to Grace’s house. But, when we’re there, I feel like she’s not truly with me. She stares out into the water almost like she’s looking for him. I’ve thought about discussing it with her, but as soon as we leave the beach, she’s always back to herself, and it seems unnecessary to bring it up.
Right now, as we ride the ski lift and I look over at her goldish-green eyes, I can see what she sees. All the beauty that surrounds me is her. It’s because of her I see the world so differently, and I have no doubt that she loves me. There are hundreds of miles of beauty below us to be discovered. The wet snowflakes fall all around the mountaintops as the crisp, cool wind whistles in the air, carrying them across the summit. The tall evergreen trees are reflected in the lake below us, their branches bending back and forth. We can even see the trails we ran earlier this morning leading to the breathtaking view of the stream. Now, as we sit under the azure California sky, waiting to ski down Pinball Mountain, I can see all of that. Before I met her, I would have only seen the snow-topped mountain I’m about to ski down.
Looking over at her, I ask, “You sure about this?”
She insisted we ski this mountain just because of its name. “Dahlia, it’s a black diamond. Those are for the expert skiers,” I laughed at her when she told me she wanted to try it.
