Beautiful Player Page 116

“I have a question about a rule,” I whispered.

He leaned in conspiratorially, whispering back, “I’m not your dating coach anymore. There are no rules, besides that no other guy touches you.”

“Still. You know about these things.”

With a smile he murmured, “Fine. Hit me.”

“We’ve only been together two months, and—”

“Four,” he corrected, always insisting I was his from that very first run.

“Fine. Have it your way, four. Is it bad form after only four months to tell you I think you’re my forever?”

His smile straightened, his eyes moving over my face in that way that felt like a caress. He kissed me once, and then again.

“I would say that’s incredibly good form.” He pulled back to look at me for a long, heavy beat. “Sleep, Plum.”My phone buzzed on my lap, startling me awake. I straightened from where I’d been asleep on Will’s shoulder and blinked, looking down at my phone, where a text from him lit up my screen. Beside me, I could almost feel his smile.

I read the text: What are you wearing?

I squinted sleepily at my phone as I typed, A skirt and no panties. But don’t get any ideas, I’m a little sore from what my boyfriend did last night.

He made a sympathetic clucking noise beside me. That brute.

Why are you texting me?

He shook his head next to me, sighing with exaggerated weariness. Because I can. Because modern technology is amazing. Because we are 30,000 feet in the air and civilization has progressed to the point I can beam a filthy proposition to you from a satellite in space to a flying “steel tube.”

I turned to look at him, eyebrows raised. “You woke me up to ask me what I’m wearing?”

He shook his head, and kept typing. In my lap, my phone buzzed.

I love you.

“I love you, too,” I said. “I’m right here, you nerd. I’m not texting a reply.”

He smiled, but kept typing. You’re my forever, too.

I stared down at my phone, my chest suddenly so tight it was hard to breathe. I reached over my head, adjusting the airflow of the nozzle aimed at my seat.

And I might propose to you soon.

I stared at my phone, reading this line again, and again.

“Okay,” I whispered.

So give me a heads-up if you won’t say yes, because I’m mildly terrified.

I leaned back on his shoulder and he dropped his phone into his lap, wrapping his shaking hand around mine.

“Don’t be,” I whispered. “We’ve totally got this.”

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