Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 34629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 173(@200wpm)___ 139(@250wpm)___ 115(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 173(@200wpm)___ 139(@250wpm)___ 115(@300wpm)
Just like the guys have done with my watches, I’ve made the habit of collecting guitar picks for Seb. He goes through them like crazy—flinging them into the crowd for fans at every show—and even though they’re a business expense and not exactly romantic, I always try to find unique designs.
He’s expecting them, but his face lights up anyway. Unlike every other time I’ve given him a new set of picks, he leans in and thanks me with a kiss.
“Yeah, that’s still going to take a while to get used to,” Cash says.
Seb pulls away and flips him off.
We all exchange gifts, I get about ten pairs of sweatpants from Seb which confuses the rest of the band, but we don’t elaborate on our inside joke. The pile of gifts dwindles away until there’re only four identical boxes left.
All four bandmembers stare at me while I unwrap each individual one and choose the ugliest. They don’t label who they’re from anymore, and they all use the same wrapping paper so I can’t tell who bought what.
The first one I open is a contender for sure. Gold skulls and snakes wrap around the face of the watch.
“Wow. Umm, thank you so much.”
Everyone snickers.
The next doesn’t even look like a watch at all. It looks more like the inside of a machine. It must be expensive. It’s ugly as fuck and doesn’t make any sense.
Then there’s a Hysek which probably costs more than my car, hell probably more than my house, but while it’s ugly, it’s not gaudy.
The last one though. Holy shit that takes the cake. “We have a winner.” I hold up the gold-plated watch that has different stones in the shape of Kanye West on the face.
Seb nudges me. “I know how you feel about Kanye and knew how much you’d hate it.”
“You did this?”
He smiles smugly. “Booyah. I win this year.”
The other three grumble, but I’m oddly touched that he’d know this would win because of my strong aversion to the most egotistical artist in the industry. That’s not even defamation, it’s just fact.
“Who wants breakfast?” Locke stands.
I get up too. “I’ll help.”
Something passes between Locke and Seb, and Locke waves me off. “No, no. I can do it. Or better yet, Cash, get your ass up.”
“I have to cook again?” Cash complains but stands anyway.
“Yes.” Locke nudges him and then nods in our direction, and I have no idea what that’s supposed to mean.
Seb grabs my hand. “Come with me. I have one more present for you.”
“You do?”
“Yep. And do you know how hard it was to hide while blowing you?”
I burst out laughing. “That’s what that was?”
“Yep.”
That’s actually … kind of a relief. I thought he was acting weird because of doubt, but when it didn’t happen again, I chalked it up to a passing moment. Knowing he was trying to hide a present for me gives me some reassurance in this very new relationship.
Seb leads me to the front closet where our thick jackets are.
“We’re going somewhere?”
“Just out back to the firepit. I kinda don’t want an audience for this.”
“For what?”
“You can just wait. I’ve been keeping this under wraps for days. I’m not going to ruin it now.” He leads me outside, holding my hand the whole way. The fire isn’t lit, and when I go to the firewood to build it, Seb pulls me back. “We won’t be out here long.”
We press against each other, and I bask in his warmth.
Seb swallows hard and takes a deep breath.
“Why are you nervous?” I ask.
“This is … kinda big.” His eyes widen. “Oh God, not like the biggest thing I’m ever going to give you ever … now it sounds like I’m talking about my dick. I’m not. Oh shit, I’m fucking this up. Okay, let’s pretend none of that fell from my mouth. Redo! Umm …”
I lean in and kiss his bearded cheek. “Whatever it is, I’ll love it. You don’t need to feel any pressure, okay?”
He shakes it off and tries again. “I wanted to get you something that shows you I’m taking us seriously. That I’m all in.”
“I’m all in too,” I murmur. “Is that the present? A promise?”
Seb clears his throat. “It’s a little more than that. Umm. So …”
“Are you sweating?” I have to admit it’s kind of cute.
“When I asked Locke what kind of gift screams serious, he flashed his engagement ring.”
My breath gets caught in my throat because yes, I may know this man is the love of my life, but marriage is … like—My thoughts are cut off by Seb’s laughter.
“Your face was my reaction too. No way are we there yet. But … I got you this.” He pulls out a small ring box and squeezes it in his hand. “It’s not an engagement ring, so you can breathe.”