Andrew insisted that we get up off our asses and get on the road like we planned—he’s suffering from that elated second-chance-at-life feeling which makes him more eager than ever to do just about everything. Hell, he enjoys washing dishes and doing laundry. But his mom, Marna, and I have strictly forbidden him to do too much, or to over exert himself. Andrew doesn’t like it, but he knows better than to stand up to both of us at once.
We will, quite literally, kick his ass.
But Andrew and I still plan to travel the world and keep our promise not to stay grounded to the monotony of life. None of that has changed and I know that it never will.
Natalie went back to North Carolina and we talk every single day. She’s dating Blake now, the guy Damon attacked that night on the roof. It makes me smile to know they are together. When I talk to them on Skype, I can just tell they were made for each other. At least for right now; with Natalie, one never knows what’ll happen. Damon, on the other hand, ended up getting busted for drug possession. It’s his second offense and he’s probably going to be spending a year in prison this time. Maybe he’ll learn from his mistakes, but I doubt that.
My brother, Cole, however, I think Andrew was right about him. Andrew and I took a plane to North Carolina to visit my mom and while there we went with her to see Cole in prison. He seems different, sincerely remorseful. I could see it in his eyes. He and Andrew hit it off really well. I think maybe my brother will be like the big brother I used to know once he gets out. And with Andrew’s help, I have forgiven Cole for what he did. I’ll always hurt for that family he destroyed when he killed that man in the wreck, but I’ve realized that forgiveness cures a lot of things.
My mom is still dating Roger. In fact, they’re getting married in the Bahamas in February. I’m so happy for her. I did manage to meet Roger and run him through my douchebag inspection and am happy to say that he passed with honors. Mom is rarely home anymore; he’s always sweeping her off to somewhere.
And she deserves every bit of it.
Andrew’s mom and brothers welcomed me into the family with open arms. Asher and I are really close. And regardless of how standoffish I always thought Aidan was, I love him to death. He was never really a jerk to Andrew. Honestly, Andrew deserved it. Aidan and his wife, Michelle, talk to me and about me as if I’m Andrew’s wife. It always makes me blush. More importantly, Andrew and Aidan have been getting along. Before Aidan and Michelle went back to Chicago after a quick visit last week, I just beamed watching them mess with each other and wrestle in the living room. They almost broke the television, but me and Michelle just sat back and laughed and let them show each other up with their alpha male testosterone.
And today…well, today is going to be a little different than Andrew is used to.
I walk into the living room where he’s kicked back on the couch watching Prometheus.
He reaches out for me as I walk toward him.
“No,” I say, shaking my head, “I need you to get up.”
“What’s up, babe?” He lifts from the couch and reaches up to scratch his head. His hair has started growing back, but he’s still not used to how it feels, especially around the scar where he had the surgery.
He drops his legs onto the floor to sit upright fully and I step in-between them, running my hands over his head. He kisses one of my wrists and then the other.
“Come with me.” I nod my head back, take his fingers into my hand and he follows me to the bedroom.
As always, when I take him into the bedroom he automatically thinks it’s sexual and his sexy green eyes light up like a boy.
“I just want you to lay down with me for a little while,” I say, taking off all of my clothes.
He seems a little confused, but it’s so cute.
“OK,” he says, smiling. “You want me nak*d, too? I’ll definitely get nak*d. What the hell am I asking for?” He starts to strip.
He lies down next to me and we face each other, pulling our bodies close and tangling our legs. He wraps his arms around me and then his fingers trail across my tattoo of Orpheus that I got two weeks ago. It’s perfect, lined up with Andrew’s flawlessly. When we lie next to each other like this, the two pieces become one.
“Are you OK, baby?” Andrew gazes at me curiously, his fingertips brushing softly across my ribs.
I smile and kiss his mouth.
Then I pull away just a little and take his hand, sliding it to my tattoo, toward the area that extends over onto my belly.
“I love my tattoo, baby,” I whisper into the small space between our faces, “but I think in about seven and a half more months, Orpheus might be a little bit stretched out.”
Andrew blinks confusedly and it takes him a few seconds to understand what I’m saying.
His head draws back in a slightly stunned motion and then after a pause, he lifts up.
“I’m due in May.”
His eyes grow wide first; he’s stunned and wordless, but then he manages to say, “You’re pregnant?” His hand immediately goes to my stomach.
His reaction makes me smile even bigger.
His dimples deepen as he looks down at me and the next thing I know his tongue is in my mouth. His kiss steals my breath away and he lifts me into his arms in the center of the bed.
“Marry me,” he says and now I’m the one stunned wordless. “I was going to ask you tomorrow night when we went out, but I can’t wait now. Marry me.”
I start to cry and he wraps me in his arms again and kisses me some more.
When he finally pulls away and looks into my eyes again, I answer: “Yes, I’ll marry you, Andrew Parrish.”
“I love you so f**king much,” he says, kissing me again. He grabs my face. “Now let’s have pregnant sex.”
What can I say? That’s Andrew and I wouldn’t want him to be any other way.
