I think back to when I found my ring. It was a siren, calling me to its side. That was one of the best nights of my life. I shake my head no, a smile slipping across my lips.
His fingers tighten against mine. I’m forced to endure several more minutes of trying to hold onto his attention before he’s off, across the street. I’m right behind him, heart pounding so hard that everyone in Annar must hear it.
He stops in front of the jewelry stand. The ring on my finger burns against my flesh.
This is real. This is happening.
Jonah is statue still, staring at one of the branches filled with rings in front of us. I’m ready to burst, I’m so excited.
“Which one is it?” I prod, nudging his shoulder. I can’t help myself. He’s just standing there staring when I want to dance.
He turns and faces me, wonderstruck. And then he kisses me—slowly, deeply, reverently. I melt into him, consumed by just how much I wish our bodies could merge as easily as our minds.
A throat clears. And then clears again. We reluctantly break apart and find a teen-aged Dwarf tapping his foot. “Hate to bust up the make-out session, but I need to close up in five minutes. Is there something I can help you with?”
We laugh. Jonah finally reaches out and extracts the fourth ring in on the branch. He holds it up between us. Our grins are infectious, they’re so large.
I take my ring off and lay it on top of his. They fit perfectly, despite the size difference. The same Dwarven wood-gold grooves run from my ring to his and back up to mine.
Puzzle pieces meant to be reunited.
“Ohhhh—you two are Connected,” the Dwarf says. He nods appreciatively. “Totes cool, dudes. Always feels good to help a couple out on the road to happily ever after, you know?”
I slide my own ring back on and take Jonah’s from him. Then I slide it slowly onto his finger. Just like mine, his transforms from wood to rose gold.
I am intoxicated with giddiness. He is too. We kiss, and then kiss some more, our lips never leaving one another even when Jonah pulls out his credit card to pay for the ring. Flowers rain down around us: peonies and daisies, Goblin roses, too. And it snows, even though it’s early summer—light sparkling snow that matches the night we found my ring. It’s like diamonds are floating around us, and the air is crisp and heady with fragrance. They keep coming until the world around me matches how I feel about this moment, like it’s the most beautiful thing ever.
The last thing a girl ought to be thinking about when she’s kissing one of the hottest guys in all the worlds is her father. But here I am, drunk on love and Fate and the taste of my fiancé’s tongue, and I’m thinking about Noel Lilywhite and the ridiculous promise he swindled out of Jonah.
Stupid, pointless promise.
I practically rip Jonah’s shirt off, throwing it behind me. Forget my dad. I have to touch Jonah—not fabric, but him. I love the way his chest feels under my fingertips, all smooth and hard at the same time. I let my skin commit to memory the planes of his once more, like I’m afraid I’ll forget such beauty even though I’m positive there’s nothing in all the worlds that could ever let me do so. I like how he’s not overly muscled or scrawny, but lean and strong, his body honed from years of running.
He groans softly against my neck, licking, then kissing my pulse there. “You have me at a disadvantage, love.”
I shift on the bed, my lips curving against his earlobe. “Do I?”
“This.” His hands skim my sides until they reach the hem of my tank top. “Needs.” He tugs upwards. “To go. To level the playing field and all. It’s only fair, don’t you think?”
I bite his earlobe, signaling my complete agreement. And then I reach around and unclasp my bra. “Fair’s fair,” I whisper in his ear. He groans again, sliding the straps of my pink lacy bra off until a gust of sultry summer air fills the slim space between us. I like these groans of his, all soft and sexy and filled with want. I try to commit these to memory, too, because when I’m old, I want to revisit them to remind myself of what love sounds like.
He traces my collarbone with his lips, oh so slowly, before trailing kisses down to my breasts. I shudder in his arms, fingers digging into his shoulders, everything in me going soft and hot at the same time when he licks a slow circle around a nipple. I let go of his shoulders and snake my hands up into his hair, his lovely, black shining hair that’s blinded me since the night we first met. I arch into his mouth, tingles and zings racing to the finish line throughout the paths lining my bloodstream. But it isn’t enough, him touching me—I need to be touching him, too. Memorizing more of him, even though I could probably draw his body from every angle yet never do it justice. I twist pieces of his hair into loops around my fingers before letting go, tracing patterns down his torso until I reach his shorts.