Free Blackbird (a Sometimes Never novella) by Cheryl McIntyre Page A

long kiss. As her taste touches my tongue, I feel myself relax. Her body molds to mine, her leg sliding up to lock around mine. I love that I can still affect her like this.
          We break apart and I grin at her. “I’m perfect,” I murmur. Guiding her into the chair, I brush her hair back so I can fully see her face. “I made you dinner.”
          “Did you put vegetables in it?”
          I nod. “Mushrooms.”
          “Freaking fungus.” She beams at me. “Happy anniversary, Mason.”
          “Two years,” I say.
          She tilts her head to the side, studying me. “Two years,” she agrees. I sit down across from her, but I can’t eat. I’m pretty sure I’d just choke on it, or puke.
          Hope narrows her eyes and crosses her arms on the table. “Okay. What’s wrong? Is this the year you freak out?”
          I bark out a laugh. She has no idea. “No. Not freaking out.”
          Liar. Liar. Liar .
          “Okay… Well everything looks great. And just so we’re clear, I’m totally eating those Skittles, floor or not.”
          I laugh again, the sound full of the nerves I can’t shake.
          “All right,” Hope hisses. She stands up, placing her hands on her hips. “What’s going on? You look like you’re dying over there.” She takes a shaky step toward me. “Cheese and rice, Mason. I’m the only one around here who is allowed to get crazy. If there’s two of us that’ll just be too much insanity in one room. We’re on a budget—I can’t afford straightjackets.”
          I give her a crooked smile and stand up. God damn I love this girl. “I have a gift for you.” I take the little papers from my pocket and grab her hand. As I slide the Starburst wrapper ring onto the finger of her right hand, I take a breath, holding it for a moment. “This is what I was going to give you last year, but… Well you know.”
          She smiles sheepishly. “Yeah. I know.” With a twist of her wrist, she admires the silly paper ring.
          I lower myself to one knee, and her eyes widen. Her left hand is trembling as badly as my entire body is when I lift it toward me. “And this is what I got you this year,” I whisper as I slip the small diamond engagement ring past her knuckle. I gaze up at her, holding her blue eyes. “I’ve loved you ever since the moment you kicked Christian Dunkin’s ass. I’ve never stopped and I never will. I know this is early—we’re still in school—but I figure if I ask now, that gives you time to freak out, and maybe by our third anniversary we’ll be able to make the engagement official. I guess it’s typical to be engaged for a year or two, so by our fifth anniversary, we’ll have graduated, you’ll be ready, and we can get married.”
          She lowers herself in front of me. “You’ve thought this all out.”
          I nod. “Pretty much, but it’s all subject to change. If you want to go to Vegas tonight, I’m game.”
          I’m still shaking. She still hasn’t said yes. Of course, she’s still here, so there’s that.
          “I don’t need to wait until next year to make the engagement official. We can do that now. But you’re right, a wedding better wait until after graduation. I don’t want to piss your mother off again.”
          I freeze, my eyes flicking over her face. “Is that a yes?”
          She laughs softly, her gaze now glossy. “It’s a hell yes.”
          I tug her into me and our mouths meet fiercely. “I can agree to that. We can forgo the whole graduation party and just throw one hell of a reception.” 
          I run my palms down her sides. She moans and shoves my shirt up. I pull back and raise my hands, helping her get it over my head. She reaches for hers and I stop her, shaking my head.
          “No,” I utter hoarsely. I look down at her Beatles tee shirt and grin. “Leave that on, Blackbird.”
          “Kiss me,” she sighs.