Allie
I don’t think I’ve ever been this obsessed with watching someone sleep.
Well, except for the girls. They were impossible not to watch. The quiet breaths slipping past their lips, the tiny lift at the corners of their mouths, the way their lashes fluttered like they were dreaming of something sweet. Every bit of it was addicting.
And now, I get to experience it all over again. But this time? This time, it’s with someone who wants it just as badly as I do.
I study the freckles dusting across Jax’s eyes, counting each time his chest rises and falls in perfect rhythm. Completely absorbed in the fact that—
I’m happy.
Utterly, undeniably, breathtakingly happy.
And it’s all because of this man lying beside me in my queen-size bed.
Leaning in, I press my lips softly against his hair and he stirs.
Jax blinks up at me through half-lidded eyes, and for a second, I almost feel bad for waking him—until he gives me that lazy, warm smile that makes my heart feel like it’s floating.
It almost makes waiting months for this worth it.
Months without him staying over while he was recording, and with the girls at Trevor’s, I’m finally able to have him here, next to me in my bed instead of a hotel.
“Well, good morning,” he says, voice rough with sleep, which is unfairly sexy this early in the morning, especially with that accent.
“Mornin’ yourself,” I murmur, smiling back.
He stretches, his arms reaching over his head as one lands behind me. “How are you feeling?” he asks, his hand brushing gently along my arm.
I shrug. “A little better. I don’t want to jinx it, but so far, so good.”
He nods once. “Good.” Then he leans in to kiss my forehead before climbing out of bed.
I gape as he slides into a pair of gray sweats that hang dangerously low on his hips, just enough to short-circuit my brain and almost make me forget he jumped out of bed like the house was on fire.
“Wait—where are you going?” I ask, shaking my head.
He smirks. “To make you breakfast while there’s a chance you’ll actually eat something and keep it down.”
I can’t tell if it’s the hormones or if my life really has been this deprived of kindness, but suddenly—I’m crying.
Tears blur my vision as his face falls. He’s back at my side in an instant, hands finding mine.
“What is it? Are you okay?” he asks frantically, searching around the bed like something set me off.
I nod, slipping one hand free to wipe my eyes. “That’s just… really sweet,” I whisper through a shaky breath.
God. I’m already ridiculous.
“Well, don’t cry until you see the toast,” he says gently. “You never know, I might burn it.”
I laugh, wiping away what I hope are the last of my tears. “I actually like burnt toast.”
His face scrunches, and I laugh again. He’s definitely trying not to smile—and I’m just going to tell myself it’s because he likes burnt toast too.
But I know he doesn’t.
I’ve seen him scraping off the burnt bits. I’ve just never had the heart to tell him I actually like it that way. Not with all the effort he puts into making one single piece of toast just right—for me.
But now?
Now I really want burnt toast.
He leans in and presses a quick kiss to my cheek, muttering, “Crazy woman,” in my ear before slipping away.
I smile to myself as he disappears through the door, then finally sink back into the pillows the second I hear pans clattering.
I close my eyes for a few more minutes, smiling to myself, because honestly? If he burns my toast on purpose, I think I’ll fall in love with him all over again.
I’m not sure how much time passes. All I know is that my eyes peel open the moment I hear glasses clinking on the nightstand and catch Jax wincing as he bumps into the small lamp.
He peeks at me from the corner of his eye, lips twitching. “Sorry,” he murmurs. “I was gonna try and let you sleep a little longer.”
I sit up, yawning. “And miss eggs and toast? No chance.”
He smiles and gestures to the coffee mug on the tray. “I, uh… wasn’t sure if caffeine was safe,” he says, a little bashfully. And it’s so damn cute I could cry again.
I laugh softly. “If you want to live to see this baby born, you will not withhold my coffee.”
He holds up his hands in surrender. “Duly noted,” he says, then carefully hands it over.
I bring the cup to my nose, breathing in the beautiful smell of coffee beans mixed with a hint of vanilla from the cream. And I am in Heaven.
But then I glance at the food and honestly the eggs make my stomach turn a little. But I hold it back as best I can.
Closing my eyes, I take a full sip. The first real sip of coffee I’ve been able to enjoy since Thanksgiving. And it is glorious.
I open my eyes again, the mug still warm beneath my nose, and find Jax staring at me. Not like he’s worried I’m about to get sick or anything. More like I just did something amazing instead of, you know, drinking coffee.
I lower the mug and narrow my eyes at him. “What?”
He shakes his head slowly, eyes steady on mine. “I don’t think you realize how truly beautiful you are.”
I don’t need a mirror to know my cheeks just turned fifty shades of red. I can feel it in the way my heart picks up just a little, and in the way my gaze immediately drops to the coffee like there’s some sort of script hiding in there to tell me what to say to that.
Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, I shrug. “If you think I’m attractive now, you should see me after I’ve had coffee and brushed my teeth,” I say with a nervous chuckle.
He shakes his head again, slower this time. “Always,” he says. “When you crinkle your nose every time I make tea. When you pretend you’re not looking away during the scary parts of a film. And especially when I get the privilege of watching you be a mother to your girls—and now, to our baby.”
My throat tightens. I swipe a thumb under my eye to catch a tear before it can fully fall. “Careful,” I murmur. “You’re starting to sound like you love me or something.”
“I do love you, Allie.”
He scoots closer, his hands finding my cheeks, gently turning my face so I have to meet his eyes.
“Marry me,” he murmurs.
I blink, not sure if I’m hearing him right. “What?”
His thumb brushes lightly against my cheek as he tilts his head. “Marry me, Allie,” he repeats, quieter this time. “I love you. I love your girls. I love this little life we created and this life we’re building, even if it scares the shit out of me.”
I laugh through a sob, and he catches each tear, wiping them away and placing a soft kiss where they tried to escape.
“So marry me,” he continues, his hands still gentle on my face. “Not later. Not after the tour. Marry me today. I can’t go another day without having you be mine in every way possible, Al.”
He presses his lips softly to mine, and I melt into him, not wanting him to ever let go. When he pulls back, I see his eyes shining just like mine with tears. I wipe them away like he’s done for me so many times before and bring our foreheads together.
“We’re gonna need a witness,” I murmur with a smile.
He laughs softly. “I couldn’t think of a better person than the one right upstairs.”
I nod slowly, swallowing a sniffle. “Okay.” Sliding off the bed, I press a quick kiss to his cheek and whisper, “Stay right here.”
Then I’m practically running out my door, and flying up the stairs, all to ask my best friend to witness me marrying the man I can’t imagine life without.
And maybe to let her in on the news about us having a baby, too.
Today is a day for love and new beginnings.
December 5, 2008 just became one of my new favorite days.
Another day added to a list of perfect memories that have brought me here. Moments I treasure and keep locked away in my mental calendar of days to look forward to.