Page 129 of Instigator

“I’d wear a ring for you. Not on the ice, of course. But I’d wear a ring. If you were concerned.”

“I wasn’t, but thank you.” I pat his chest. “I know you’re committed to me. I don’t need a piece of paper to proclaim that to the world. If you want to wear a ring, I won’t stop you. If you want me to wear one, I will. We can go shopping together. It’s the legalities that I’m concerned about.”

He sits up in bed, pushing the cock ring away. Slowly, I sit up too, holding the sheet to my breasts.

So this won’t be a quickie. Damn it.

“I would sign anything you want me to sign,” Aidan says. “I don’t want your money. I don’t want your business or any others you start. Your assets are yours and yours alone. I just want you. All I want is to tell the world that you’re mine and I’m yours, and we belong to each other. I don’t need you to change your name. I don’t even need the big wedding. I just need you.”

I chew on my lip.

“I know your ex hurt you. That’s not me. That would never be me,” he says. “I’m asking for you to think about it. I don’t need an answer right now, and I’m not proposing. You say it’s like fitting a square peg into a round hole, but Ceci… you and I, we fit.”

“We do,” I murmur, holding my breath.

“I don’t want to change you. But if there’s even the most remote possibility that you might want this, that you might want forever with me…”

“I do. I want that.” That’s one thing I’m sure about.

“Then we should have a conversation about what that means,” he says. Like it’s that simple. “If you’re sure you don’t want to get married, I can deal with that. But if there’s any piece of you that might want it one day…”

Swallowing against the lump in my throat, I finally let myself consider it. Marriage. Being a wife.

Aidan’s never made me feel like he’s unhappy with the division of labor in our relationship. I won’t have the same pressures to be the “good little wife” and be 110 percent perfect at all times. He won’t be upset when I work into the middle of the night, or when I have meetings that cut into our time together, because he understands the way I operate. He said it on our first date and has proven it every day since. He doesn’t want to cage me; he wants me to fly free.

He loves me, flaws and all.

And maybe… maybe it will be different this time. Because he’s right; we fit together so seamlessly, it’s difficult to imagine a time when we didn’t know each other. A time when we weren’t us.

That’s not to say either of us is perfect. I’m well aware of my flaws, and I’m learning his. But if we can work together to deal with the conflicts that arise, instead of shutting down and avoiding them, maybe I won’t repeat the same mistakes again. Maybe I can do this the healthy way—because our foundation is already so healthy and strong.

“I’ll think about it,” I finally whisper.

“That’s all I’m asking,” he says. He gives me a lopsided smile, then picks up the box again. “So how does this thing work?”

I stare at him, whiplashed from the rapid change in subject. “That’s it? You’re done?”

Aidan chuckles. “You said you’d think about it. I’m not going to push you. That’s all I wanted.”

I blink. Then I blink again.

And then I launch myself across the bed, tackling him to the mattress. He laughs as I knock him onto his back, then straddle him. His cock is half hard against my ass cheek, his body relaxed and pliant under mine.

“Fuck, I love you.” I kiss him, or he kisses me. His arms circle me, holding me close.

His laugh fades into something softer as I settle against him, and for a moment, neither of us says anything. The room is quiet except for the sound of our breathing and the distant hum of the ceiling fan overhead.

I brush my fingers through his hair, pushing a few strands off his forehead. He looks up at me like he still can’t quite believe I’m here.

“What?” I ask, smiling despite myself.

His hands slide up my back, warm and steady. “Nothing.”

It’s obviously not nothing.

I lean down and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Liar.”

Aidan exhales a quiet laugh, but his expression stays serious. His thumb traces a slow path along my side.