Extra Bonus Chapter
Addison
It’s nearing midnight, and I’m leaning against Wesley’s chest, sleep tugging at me as his arm wraps around my shoulders tighter.
This New Year’s, it’s just him and me, root beer, a fuzzy blanket, and the old couch we’ve sat on a thousand times before. Tucked in the barn with the wood-stove burning beside us.
Last year, we were in his truck and it was the night we officially started dating. It’s surreal to think that was a year ago already. Best and fastest year of my life.
There’s music playing low in the background, but his phone is propped on a bucket, leaning against a rock. I said I wanted to watch the ball drop—so this is what he rigged up.
No friends, no party, no alcohol, just us. That’s all we need.
His arm tightens around me, and he rests his head gently against mine. “Can you believe we’ve been dating a whole year?”
I laugh, “Feels like longer.”
He pulls back with a mocked look.
“In a good way,” I clarify, smiling as I sit up and press a kiss to his cheek.
About ten minutes later, the countdown begins. And when the ball drops, confetti and fireworks explode across the screen. The camera pans to the crowd—everyone kissing, hugging, celebrating.
I sit up a little straighter, shifting toward Wes so we can kiss too. His hand comes up to my cheek, gentle and sure, pulling me in. Telling me ‘Happy New Year’ just before our mouths meet.
The kiss is soft, sweet, and familiar. Then he pulls me back and I study his gaze. The way he looks back at me… the way he’s always looked at me.
He stands suddenly, shifting out from under the blanket and tossing it aside.
He holds a hand out, that crooked smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, the one I know like the back of my hand. But something about it tonight feels different. There’s a nervous energy coming off him all of a sudden.
I squint at him. “What are we doing?”
He doesn’t answer. Just lets go of my hand and walks over to the shop bench, tossing a rag to the side and grabbing something I can’t see. Whatever it is, he hides it behind his back before turning to face me again, that same smirk softening into something more serious.
“What is it?” I ask again, then he drops to one knee.
Everything stills.
My heart skips. My chest swells. My stomach jumps so fast I forget how to breathe. For a split second, I think maybe I’m dreaming. Because this, him, on one knee, the flicker of the flames, the quiet,—it’s too perfect to be real.
We talked about getting married. Of course we did, but we agreed on getting engaged this summer, married in the winter, when things weren’t so busy for us.
But it looks like he couldn’t wait until then.
And I’m not upset about it. Not one bit, I’m happy.
A little scared. But so deeply, wildly in love with him that I don’t care what season it is.
“Addison Claire,” he says, his voice thick. He opens the small black box, hands trembling. “Will you marry me?”
Tears sting my eyes. My breath catches. But I manage to get the answer out, “Of course I will.”
He exhales like he’s been holding it in for a lifetime, then pulls the ring from the box, slipping it gently onto my finger. It’s a slender gold band with one round diamond in the middle and 2 smaller diamonds on each side.
It’s beautiful.
When I look back up at him, there are tears in his eyes—but he’s smiling.
“I love you,” I whisper, pulling his face toward mine.
He laughs softly just as our lips meet, wrapping both arms around my lower back and holding me close.
When we pull apart, he wipes his eyes quickly and asks, “Do you like it?”
“It’s perfect,” I say, my voice thick with emotion. “Yes.”
“Good. Because I bought it when I was sixteen,” he says.
My eyes grow. “SIXTEEN?!”
He laughs, cheeks flushing. “Yeah. The day after we skipped fifth period to go fishing, and then snuck back in for Mr. Downer’s math test ninth period.”
My jaw drops. “Are you serious?”
I’m stunned. Stunned he’s had it that long and stunned he even remembers that day. I thought I was the only one.
Wesley and his friends had planned the whole thing—ditch fifth period and go fishing.
I told him no at first. Not because I was anxious, but because I was afraid I might get anxious.
That’s the thing about it. Sometimes the fear of it is louder than the thing itself.
So I shut it down before it had the chance to start.
But ten minutes before fourth period ended, I changed my mind. The nausea never came. So I texted him—asked if the invite still stood.
He wrote back one word: course.
So I went. His friends got caught sneaking out, but we didn’t. It ended up just being the two of us. And it was so fun. My anxiety didn’t threaten even a little. It was like I stepped out and finally got to just be me.
Wesley clears his throat, drawing me back to the present. “I don’t know what it was about that day, but it changed everything for me. That was the day I realized it wasn’t just a crush. I was in love with you and it wasn’t going to go away.”
My bottom lip trembles. Not because he’s saying he loves me—he tells me that all the time—but because I still can’t wrap my head around him carrying something that big for so long… and never saying a word. I blink fast, trying not to cry again as I laugh softly.
“Wesley…”
He just smiles, eyes full of love.
“I need to tell everyone,” I breathe, grabbing for my phone. My fingers fumble over the screen. But before I can send anything, Wesley’s hand wraps gently around my wrist.
“Addie,” he says softly. “Not yet, let’s just enjoy this for a little while longer, just us.”
I pause, heart thudding, and then nod. “Okay. Yeah, you’re right.”
I set the phone back down and lean into him, wrapping my arms around his neck. His arms tighten around me, strong and sure, and we just stand there.
His chest rises and falls against my cheek, and I feel completely calm. No wave of nerves, no pressure. Just safety.
The playlist that’s been running quietly in the background shifts to a new song.
Cole Swindell. Forever to Me.
And before I can even process it—before I can make a joke or point out the irony—Wesley’s hands find the curve of my waist and he starts to dance with me. Slow, rocking back and forth on our feet.
Turns out, sometimes friends don’t stay just friends. Sometimes… they become your forever.