The bed was cold as I crawled under the covers. Get used to it. He’ll be gone in ten days.

It hit me. Ten days. We had milk that expired later than that, and it was all I had guaranteed with him. Anything could happen after that. Ten days, and I’d just thrown his proposal in his face and declared it not good enough.

“You’re such a bitch,” I cried to myself as the tears started to flow. Why couldn’t anything be simple? Why couldn’t we get engaged and then marry in a year after bickering over wedding details? Why couldn’t we have just a tiny piece of normal?

Did it really matter if I said, “I do,” in front of a hundred other people? Did it matter if it was now or in a year from now? I wasn’t going to somehow stop loving him. He was woven into my soul so deeply that if someone were to pull a single thread of him away, I would unravel.

The door opened softly, light throwing my shadow onto the far wall. Josh was nearly silent as he stripped down for bed, but I couldn’t bring myself to move. How could I have done that to him? Sure, his logic was flawed, but wanting to marry me? That wasn’t only timing forcing the issue. It couldn’t have been.

The bed sank under his weight as he took his spot, the one closest to the door. We laid there in silence, the argument between us so raw that even the softest touch in the wrong way could set us both to bleeding.

But I had to make this right. I turned over and burrowed into his chest, startling him for the barest of seconds before his strong arms closed around me. I pressed a kiss to the fire and ice tattoo above his heart. “I’m so sorry,” I said softly into his skin. “Josh, I’m just so sorry.”

“Shh,” he whispered, kissing the top of my head. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. I fucked up something that was supposed to be un-fuck-up-able.”

I tilted my head until I caught the moonlight reflected in his eyes. “I was stupid, Josh. It doesn’t matter what the timing is. You and I are a foregone conclusion. You’re it for me, and I don’t need a ring on my finger to remind me of that. But I do want to marry you, I promise. There’s nothing I want more in this world than to be your wife.” I took a stuttering breath. “Ask me again.”

He raised his hand and stroked my cheek with his thumb, an eternity of love pouring from his eyes. “No.”

I tried—and failed—not to let that hurt. “Okay.”

He pressed his lips to mine in a sweet kiss and traced my bottom lip with the tip of his tongue. “December Howard. You deserve everything I can give you. My body, my heart, my name. They’re already yours, we’re just missing some paperwork. But you’re right. I don’t want this deployment to change anything about us, and if I weren’t leaving in ten days, we wouldn’t even be considering eloping. We’d probably have some huge mountaintop wedding, right?”

I couldn’t contain the smile that spread across my face. “We could ride the chairlifts up. And imagine the pictures!”

He laughed, pressing another kiss to my lips but pulling back before I could lean in for more. “I won’t let this deployment steal that away from us, too, so I’m not asking you now.”

I pushed away the thought that I’d ruined any chance of him asking again, and trusted in him. “But you will ask again.”

“On our terms, and no one else’s.”

I nodded. “You and me against the world,” I whispered.

“Always,” he finished with a kiss.

“You sure you don’t mind snagging notes for me?” I asked Luke before sipping my latte.

“You sure you don’t have an Ephesus application to hand me? There is a deadline, even for a shoo-in like you.”

“I’m not a shoo-in, and I still haven’t decided if I’m going.”

He rolled his eyes. “Sure you have. You can’t turn this down. You won’t. You’re not deciding, you’re rationalizing it between your head and your heart. But think of it this way—if you go on the dig, you’d actually be physically closer to Flyboy than you are here in Nashville.”

“I guess I’d never thought of it that way.”

“And as for the notes, what else am I good for as a TA in Senior Seminar?” He shoulder-bumped me as we carried our takeout coffees back to the classroom.

“I know I’ll miss class the day he leaves, but I’m not going to mope for longer than twenty-four hours,” I said, mostly to promise myself. “Then I’ll be back here to kick ass.”

“So one more weekend, huh?” He shot me the look…the one that dripped with so much sympathy that it triggered my stop-pitying-me reflex.

“Yep. And I’m going to make it perfect for him.”

“Why don’t you guys get away? I bet my dad wouldn’t mind covering a suite for you guys near the beach somewhere. Atlantic City, maybe?”

“That’s so nice of you to offer, Luke, but even all your dad’s money can’t get the army to cooperate. He has to be able to report within four hours, so that’s too far.”

“Hmmm.” He opened the door for me and we walked inside, taking the stairs toward the room. “Wait. Flyboy was hockey boy first, right?”

“Most definitely,” I answered, my stomach immediately fluttering at the thought of watching him play again. God, the way he moved on the ice never failed to turn me on to the point I was ready to rip off that sweaty uniform right there on the ice. And the way he handled that stick with his hands…