Still (Grip Book 2)(39)

"Okay, can you further the feminist cause later and just close your damn eyes?"

"I will." Bristol grins widely. "But only because it's your first snowfall."

"Why you gotta make everything hard?"

"If that's a hint that you want to have make-up sex," she says, finally  obediently closing her eyes. "I won't give you sass on that."

I slide off the couch and onto the floor in front of her, reach into the interior pocket of my jacket.

"All right." Standing on my knees, I face her, wedged between her legs. "You can open your eyes."

She does, and they immediately widen beyond what I think is humanly possible.

"How about engagement sex?" I hold the delicate platinum band between my  thumb and index finger. "I've heard it's even better than make-up sex."

Her jaw drops a few more centimeters with every second that passes.  Bristol, who always has something to say, is struck dumb, and I'm about  to tease her about it when fat tears slip over her cheeks.

Holy shit. I can't do Bristol tears under any circumstances, even joyous occasions.

"Babe, don't cry." I swipe a thumb over her cheekbone and cup her chin. "You're gonna give me a complex."

"How can I not . . . you just . . ."

She gives up, shaking her head and dropping her lashes into the wetness  gathered under her eyes. Her forehead falls to rest against mine, and we  just sit there for a few seconds. Her hand slides around my neck and  she kisses my jaw, sniffing and blinking rapidly against my face. I turn  my head to look at her and she stares back at me, her silvery eyes as  clear as crystal, as certain as the sunrise.

"You just gonna leave a brother hanging like this?" I ask, my voice husky with emotion.

Her chuckle breezes over my lips, and she sits up straight with a red-tipped nose and damp cheeks.

"I heard you say something about engagement sex," Bristol says. "But I haven't heard an actual proposal."

My smile wavers and then drops. I can't lighten this moment any more. It  has more weight than anything I've ever done, and it deserves more than  I've ever given anything.

"Bristol, I've loved you so long, my heart doesn't remember life before  you. For the last decade, you've been the first thing I think about and  the last thought in my head." I proffer the ring. "Would you do me the  honor of forever? Will you marry me?"

She swallows and fresh tears fill her eyes, but she blinks and bites her lip as if she's trying to keep it together.

"I aspire to be many things," she finally says, "but there is nothing I  will ever do that will make me prouder than being your wife."

When she puts it that way, knowing her ambitions and her drive, to hear  her esteem our relationship above all else as we start our life together  humbles me. If I wasn't already on my knees, that would have brought me  to them. I take her hand and slip the ring on her finger.





22





Grip





"There is not enough coffee in the world for this week." Callie looks up  from the corner of Iz's desk she has commandeered for her stack of  papers.

"I told you to focus on finals-grading mine and taking your own." Iz  studies her over the rims of his glasses. "Grip and I have this proposal  under control."

"Well, don't you have finals, too?" Callie asks me.

"I do." I flash her a grin. "But this is the only class I'm taking this  semester. Next semester, I go back online and home to LA."

Callie tosses her pen down, sitting back in her chair and crossing her legs.

"Wait. Did you move to New York just for Iz's class?" she asks.

Iz and I have negotiated a tentative détente, but it's still galling  that I moved across the country to learn from a guy who thinks I  shouldn't be with Bristol. It's narrow-minded, and it makes me feel  stupid for coming here, but . . . the guy is a genius, and this proposal  we're working on is something I could only dream of being a part of  before I met him.

"You could say that," I mumble, looking back to the pages I've been marking up. "So, are we set on the college campus tour?"         

     



 

"Uh, yeah." Iz sounds about as uncomfortable with Callie's question as I  am. "You need to run this schedule by your team or whatever?"

"By Bristol," I say deliberately, looking up to meet his eyes. "She  manages everything, but this far out, we should be able to accommodate  these dates."

"And just to be clear," Callie says, propping an elbow on the desk and  leaning forward, "you're going to college campuses all over the country  talking about this community bail fund?"

"And the community justice defense initiative," Iz adds. "For those who  have been wrongfully accused or convicted and can't afford quality legal  representation."

"And Grip will perform at each stop?" Callie asks.

"Yeah, a few songs, not a full concert," I clarify. "And I'll talk about  the program. We want to mobilize the next generation around these  issues, raise awareness, recruit volunteers."

"This will slay." Callie grins and swings her eager look to Iz. "Where do I sign up?"

"Say . . . huh?" Panic fills Iz's eyes for a moment. You wouldn't expect  a woman who barely clears five feet to scare the living shit out of a  guy as big and imposing as Iz, but I get the impression he always wants  to beg me not to leave him alone with her. I suspect it's so he won't  screw her into the nearest wall, but these are merely my speculations  since he won't talk to me about it.

Not that we've talked about much outside of the program lately.

"I want in." Callie sets her mouth in a stubborn line. "I'd be  volunteering like anyone else since I won't be your TA after this  semester."

The stare they hold picks up where some conversation I haven't been privy to left off.

"We'll see," Iz mutters, turning his attention back to the proposal.

"Yeah, we will." Callie gathers her backpack and stands. "I need to get to class myself."

When I glance up to tell her goodbye, that same odd expression she wore  the first time she went fangirl on me is back on her face.

"Not to make this weird, but . . ." she says in that voice people use  right before they make things weird. "I've acted like a normal person  all day and think I deserve a commendation for not bringing this up  earlier."

I stifle my grin because I already know where she's going.

"Yes?" I lift both brows sky high and wait.

"Oh my God," she gushes, unlike any other Rhodes Scholar you would ever meet. "Is it true? Are you engaged?"

So much for stifling grins, because the shit-eating-est grin of all time  overpowers my face. Bristol was with Kai for a late-night talk show  performance, and some of the production team backstage spotted her ring.  A few posts and several tweets later, everyone knew-or thought they  did, since we haven't confirmed anything and really have no plans to.  Bristol may promote for a living, but she doesn't like that lens turned  on our private life, not even a little bit, and I can't blame her. It's a  pain in the ass. We'll have to eventually, but it's only been a couple  of weeks, and we're right here at Christmas. Maybe after the New Year  we'll draft something to announce, or maybe we won't confirm at all. In  the meantime, it's no one's business that I'm the happiest son of a  bitch on the planet.

"Well, are you?" Callie presses, her indomitable spirit infectious.

"If you can keep your mouth shut," I tell her, shit-eating grin still firmly in place, "then, yes, I am."

"Eeeeeep!" Callie sits back down and drops her backpack like she's got all day to hear the details. "Tell me everything."

"Don't you have a class in two minutes, Callie?" Iz asks pointedly,  flicking his eyes toward his office door. "See you tomorrow."

Callie holds his glance for a moment longer before retrieving her backpack and heading toward the door.

"Congratulations," she says over her shoulder. "An engagement and Grammy nominations all in one month. You win December."

I haven't even processed the Grammy nominations. The day after I asked  Bristol to marry me, I found out about the three nominations. I'm  proudest of "Bruise" being up for song of the year.

"Thanks, Cal." I give her a grateful smile.

"Bristol's a lucky woman," she says softly, sincerely.

"I'm a lucky man."

"Well, I want to hear all the details when Professor Killjoy isn't  around," she says with a pointed glance at Iz before she leaves. "Good  luck on your one exam."         

     



 

"That girl," Iz mumbles, staring at the space she just vacated like she might have left an outline in the air.

There's no doubt in my mind that Iz jerks off to thoughts of Callie  defending her dissertation naked. A few weeks ago, I would have given  him shit about it, but things changed after that fateful conversation.  Now I pretty much stick to the things we do agree on. Otherwise, I have  nothing to say to him.