Page 14 of Can't Have Him

“I’m going to—fuck, I’m going to—”

And I scream out his name, again and again, as the waves of pleasure crash over me.

James. James. James.

Chapter Eight

James

1 Year Later

When Olivia calls me from the museum to tell me she’s not going to be home for another thirty minutes, I let out a sigh of relief. I’m running behind, too, and I’ll take all the extra time I can get.

“No worries, babe,” I say. “Dinner will be waiting.”

“Yeah, itbetterbe,” she says in her mock angry voice. We both laugh. “Okay. See you soon.”

So much has happened in the last year: Olivia graduated from the university, she got a job at the museum she had her heart set on, and I asked her to move in with me.And since being with Olivia, I haven’t had that recurring dream where Isabella tells meshe’s out there. Because I’ve found her. I’ve found Olivia, that is. Without a doubt, she’s the one I’m supposed to be with.

Forever.

Enough reflecting, though—right now, I need to get this shit done. I check on dinner again, then grab the candles I picked up this afternoon and arrange them around the apartment. Today’s my day off, and I’m not ashamed to admit that I spend all morning shopping for all the stuff I needed to pull tonight off.

Well, shopping for everything except for the engagement ring, that is. I’ve had the ring for weeks now, hidden up on a shelf in our bedroom closet.

After setting the last candle in place, I step back and survey the room. With the candles everywhere and the table set for dinner, the place looks pretty damn good. Now I just need to spruce up myself—I’m not about to propose to Olivia all sweaty in an old t-shirt.

I jump into the shower and step out of the bathroom ten minutes later freshly washed off and changed. To my surprise, though, Olivia’s already here.

“What are you doing home already?” I say, moving toward her to kiss her cheek.

“Things wrapped up sooner than I expected,” says Olivia. She glances around. “What’s going on? Where’d all these candles come from? It makes it look like you’re about to—” Then, suddenly, her eyes go wide, and she cups a hand over her mouth.

“Oh my God,” she says. “Did I just ruin something?”

I laugh. “No. But will you do me a favor and close your eyes? I just need…like…two minutes.”

“Okay.” Olivia shuts her eyes. “Your two minutes startnow.”

Like a madman, I grab a box of matches from the kitchen and rush around lighting all the candles. Then I go into the bedroom, scramble to get the ring down from the shelf in the closet, take a deep breath, and go out to take Olivia by the hand.

“Keep your eyes closed,” I tell her.

“You have exactly ten seconds,” she says.

I lead her by the hand into the living room, then get down on one knee in front of her.

“Five…four…three…” she says.

“Two, one,” I say.

She opens her eyes and takes in her surroundings: the candle-lit room, me kneeling before her.

“Oh, James,” she says, her eyes immediately filling with tears.

“I love you, Olivia,” I say. “I love you more than anything in this world. You make me happier than I could ever put into words. But I’ll be even happier if we can be husband and wife. Will you marry me?”

“Yes!” she cries out, and falls into my arms. We laugh and kiss each other. I slide the ring onto her finger. It’s a perfect fit.