Still Not Over You(71)

“Just promise me you won’t pass out.”

Another raspy chuckle shakes my body. “I’m not passing out.”

“You sure? I’m not.”

“I’m not going to pass out!”

He laughs. “Still don’t believe you, Reb. Look down.”

He curls his hand around mine again, drawing my attention to it.

I look down, wondering how numb and broken my body must be. Because it’s taken me this long to notice the new weight against my finger, heavy and warmed by body heat.

A ring.

Attached to the largest diamond I’ve ever seen in real life – hell, the largest I’ve ever seen on TV – princess-cut in a glittering, multifaceted gold setting. It gleams against my finger like it belongs there, and my heart does the strangest little flutter, like it’s a sparrow cupped in my palms and beating its wings.

“L-Landon? Holy shit.” I suck in a few rasping breaths. “Where –”

“Hospital gift shop, babe.” He’s flushed, grinning. “Apparently, they sell engagement rings. Who knew?”

Engagement rings.

Engagement.

Rings.

There’s no doubt left about what he means. Especially when he gets down on one knee, hunkering next to the bed with a faint wince that still doesn’t dim his boyish, hopeful grin. My head feels light, and I don’t think it’s the poison.

But I can’t pass out, or it’ll be proving this lovable asshole right.

He clasps my hand in both of his, the ring growing even warmer in the body heat between us, and looks up at me with his eyes dark and earnest. “Maybe this isn’t the best place to do this,” he says, “but it’s something I should’ve done years ago. Long before I let my pride and stupidity get in the way. I’ve given you too many reasons to doubt me, Reb, and I won’t do it anymore. So, I’m asking you, right now, for a promise. I’m making a promise to you. If only you’ll say yes.” He swallows hard, his eyes a different Neptune storm I've never seen. “If you’ll just be my wife.”

Holy hell.

I don’t know how he even needs to ask.

How he hasn’t known my answer our entire lives.

How that rough, joyful, long-time-coming yes has been waiting between us since the day he ruffled my hair and told me I was a rebel, and I’d have boys lined up across the coast waiting for me, when the only one I ever needed was always right here.

But I want to say it. I want to make it real. And I feel like my smile will crack my face as I gasp out “Yes,” before nearly ripping my IV needle out to tumble into his arms.

He sweeps me up close, laughing and kissing me wildly.

We’re a mess, clinging and clutching and trading kisses and nips and laughs until it’s hard to breathe and I don’t think I’m the only one crying.

It’s perfect. It’s wonderful. It’s so typically Landon, to finally decide what he wants and to be so impatient that he’ll claim it with a hospital gift shop engagement ring if he has to.

I’m just happy that what he wants is me.

It’s giddy – so giddy to know he loves me as much as I love him. And I whisper those words again and again as I seal my mouth to his more firmly, kissing him, tasting all the beauty and wildness and darkness that makes Landon so special.

I could love him through anything, I think. Past any pain. Past any shadows. Past hell itself.

I'll love him through everything, no matter what changes may come.

His mouth blazes on mine, his kiss so deep – before abruptly breaking back as he lets out a pained hiss, jerking and looking over his shoulder peevishly. “Ow, jackass.”

My brother stands there after smacking the back of Landon’s head lightly, Melanie at his side, his hair wild and disheveled and his face drawn with worry, but the most enormous grin on his lips.

“You deserved it,” he tells a glowering Landon, before his gaze softens. “I get it now. Finally,” he says, looking between us. “It’s all over the news. Your father, Dallas, everything. If you were going to break that story, maybe don’t do it at a concert where there must've been a million reporters around.”

Landon winces guiltily and gathers me closer, as if he’d protect me from prying eyes. “Yeah.”

“I get what you couldn’t tell me,” Steve says, and I realize now he knows. What Landon lived with all these years, the hatred and purpose driving him.

His gaze transfers to me, looking intently with that brotherly warmth and love I’ve missed. It’s clear that he knows what secrets I kept, too. And why.

“Both of you,” he murmurs. “I get it now. You were trying to protect each other.”

“And you,” Landon says. “You didn’t need to get pulled into this, Steve. It was bad enough Kenna knew.”

“Hey.” I swat his chest lightly. “If I hadn’t known, Dallas might've killed you.”

“And I owe you my life,” Landon replies softly, those dark blue, heated eyes burning into me. “I owe you my everything, Kenna. I love you.”

My heart is going to burst. It’s breaking. Repeatedly. In all the best ways.

But before I can say anything, Steve grins and slings his arm over Landon’s shoulder.

“Welcome back to the family, Landon.”