I’d never known a sweeter happiness than this.
On Sundays we rode our motorcycles to Queens for pancake breakfast with the Quinn family. And then we spent whole hours on our bikes, no directions or plans, just wandering. We’d even taken another month-long road trip all the way up to Canada last year. Fiona loved my itchy feet and the many places they took us.
But, really, I would have been happy with Fiona anywhere.
“Are you having a good thirtieth birthday?” I asked, kissing her cheek.
She sighed, pressed her cheek to mine. “The fucking best. And I appreciated the trio of orgasms you provided me before coming here to dance all night.”
“Well, I wanted to give you thirty, but we ran out of time.”
She giggled against my neck. I held her tighter. My symptoms had never gone away. She still controlled my heartbeat. She still spun my thoughts and dazzled me. As soul mates went, Fiona was the best one.
So before I could lose my cool—which still happened a lot around her—I held the black ring box out, turning my head so I could see her expression.
Her lips parted. Her fingers tightened their grip on my arms. “Max?”
I dropped a kiss onto her shoulder. “Fiona,” I whispered.
Her eyes were filling with tears.
“I know you voided your contract for a reason,” I said. “And I’m so proud of you for letting yourself fall in love with me without a goal tied to it. You’ve told me a million times you’d be happy to be with me however we choose, and I agree. I just want to hold you every day for the rest of our lives.”
I opened the box. Inside was a delicate, rose gold band with a teardrop diamond. Beautiful, elegant and oh-so-Fiona.
Roxy had helped me choose it.
“Is that… that’s for me?”
I chuckled. “As it turns out, princess, I am the marrying kind. If you’ll have me, I’d love to marry the hell out of you.”
Fiona laughed, hand flying to her mouth, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Max.”
“Being your husband would make me the luckiest damn guy in the whole world.” Her eyes held mine. The band changed songs below us. The opening chords of “Train in Vain” floated up to the fire escape.
“Did you plan that?” she whispered.
“The night of our first date, when I saw you dancing to this song in the crowd, I thought you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen in my whole life.” I swallowed, but my throat was too tight. Fiona cupped my cheek, stroked her thumbs across my skin.
It was now or never.
I raised a hand in the air. There was a shout from below. And then, on the side of the building facing us, the wall lit up with a message.
Will you marry me, Fiona Quinn?
Mateo was a fucking genius. The lights were perfect. And the crowd below us got louder.
“Oh my god,” she said. She stood quickly, hands gripping the railing, peering at the lit-up question. She was half-laughing, half-crying. And when she turned back around, I was down on one knee, engagement ring in my hand.
“Fiona Lennox Quinn,” I said, completely unable to stop the giant grin from spreading across my face. Or my own tears. “Would you marry me?”
Fiona launched herself at me so hard we almost fell off the goddamn fire escape.
“Yes!” she cheered. I was smothered in kisses then, the two of us laughing and crying so much I almost forgot to give the final signal.
I threw my hand up in the air again, and the crowd broke out into applause.
“Princess,” I said, “You have some people who want to see you.”
“Wait… what?” She was flushed and tear stained. But she ducked her head over the railing and then gasped. I followed, waving below to our friends and family. Lou and Sandy, Pop and Angela, Mateo and Rafael. Edward and Roxy, who had a bullhorn at her mouth.
“Are you getting married or what, Fi?” Roxy yelled.
Fiona threw her hands in the air and whooped. “Fuck yes!”
The band started playing again, and the whole block started dancing. I caught Pop’s eye. He gave me a short nod and a big smile. Mateo and Rafael were dancing. Fiona’s parents were just outright sobbing right next to Mr. and Mrs. Rivera.
Fiona leapt into my arms and kissed me. Again and again. “Can I propose an idea that’s a little chaotic and spontaneous?”
“Please,” I said. “That’s my favorite kind of idea.”
“What if we got married tomorrow? Here at The Red Room?”
I pulled back to stare at her, brow arched. “Uh, what?”
“You think I can’t plan a wedding in twenty-four hours?”
I burst out laughing. “I can’t wait to marry you. Let’s do it. Plus, our entire wedding party is already down there. Why don’t you just invite ’em now?”
Fiona leaned over the railing. “Is everyone free tomorrow night for a surprise wedding at The Red Room?”
There was a beat of silence. And then Lou yelled, “We’ll be there with bells on, Fiona Quinn!”
Fiona cast me a sly look. “I think they’re in.” Then she yelled, “Perfect. Then I have to go plan a wedding, and all of you need to show up here to dance until dawn. Sound good?”
The roar from the street was almost deafening.
But not as loud as my heart, pounding in my chest. I yanked Fiona back into my arms and kissed the tip of her nose. “We did plan a benefit show in twelve days. Our track record is solid.”
“Planning a wedding in twenty-four hours is, technically, my idea of a good time.”
I lifted her chin with the tip of my finger. “Oh, I know. Which means we should probably take one more spin in the supply closet for old time’s sake. Last time before we’re husband and wife and all.”
Fiona ghosted her lips over mine. “Your fiancée could use some worshiping.”
FIONA
I was wearing my cupcake wedding dress, about to marry Max the day after my thirtieth birthday.
We were standing on the sidewalk outside The Red Room, which had been magically transformed by our friends and family members in the past twenty-four hours. Roxy had dragged me back to that boutique store this morning, and I’d walked out with a princess-style wedding dress with a giant skirt and a long train and tiny flowers sewed into the fabric. I’d let her do my makeup, even my eyeliner, and tucked my hair back into a classic bun. A couple of diamonds and some heels, and I was ready to be a fucking bride.
“Are you ready, Fi?” My mom asked. She and my dad stood at the door, holding it open with twin smiles that radiated love. Onlookers kept whistling and cheering when they passed us. I’d told my parents to come as they were, which meant leather vests and ripped jeans and hair dyed pink.
I loved it.
“I was born ready.” I winked.
“Yes, you certainly were,” Dad said, holding his arm out. “And let us just say, before you go inside, that your mother and I love you more than anything on this planet. You make us so proud every day.”
I hugged them both, blinking back tears. “Thank you for saying that.”
“Now let’s get you wed to that cute Max Devlin,” Mom said. “We’ve got a fucking party to get to.”