CHAPTER 61 (2)
It was right.
It was everything.
Jeffrey's the first to move, nodding. "Timothy. You understand we're looking to do previews in three months, then move it to off-Broadway with an initial twelve-month run."
"I have other commitments, but I can fit them around this."
I'm still trying to catch up. "You'd have to move back to New York. You hate New York."
"I can't hate it. It has you." My heart expands.
"Good. We have a show," Jeffrey says.
"I have a condition," Timothy interjects. "Emily has to do it with me."
I can barely breathe through the tightness in my throat. "It's our show. It always has been. But I've been trying to find the right people to play the leads so I didn't have to be in it. So I could be in LA with you."
His forehead presses to mine, and I reach up to tug on his hair, at a loss for words.
"If it's our story, it seems fair we should do it. At least for the initial run."
I shake my head. "But what about your record deal? The house in LA?"
"I withdrew the offer. And I've pulled some strings with the label to give me more flexibility."
"You really want to do this," I whisper.
"I really do. Just tell me one thing-why'd you give them this ending?"
"Because if I got to create my own world... we'd be together in it. Every single time."
My gaze falls to his mouth, his full lips, and I need them on me.
Timothy kisses me, and it's everything-we're everything.
A throat clearing has me pulling back before I can do something about it-Miranda.
Andie's devouring a sandwich, eyes glued to the stage, and even our funder looks entertained.
"If you'll excuse me, I have some calls to make about marketing. This"-Jeffrey nods to us-"I can sell."
My stomach flips as I take Timothy in again, the rest of the room falling away.
There's a tic in his jaw, and he looks hesitant for the first time since he got here. "The ring I gave you-do you still have it?"
I reach into my neckline and pull out the chain, the ring I've been wearing since I returned to New York dangling on the end.
"That's from our past. I have something to give you for our future. And I want a future with you. I even talked to your dad about it."
So that's why Dad was acting so weird on the phone. "I bet that was interesting."
Timothy chuckles softly. "I told him I'm never letting you go again, and if he has a problem with it, he can go through me."
He reaches into his pocket and produces a box.
My heart hammers against my back, and I'm feeling lightheaded.
Then he kneels.
I've always felt at my most powerful and powerless on a stage, but this moment with Timothy Adams on his knees for me puts every other moment to shame.
"Emily, you've always been the best part of my life. Even when I tried not to let you in, you were there. So bright, so damned fresh, and you believed in me when no one did. When I didn't."
His beautiful voice cracks, and I'm trembling from his words, from anticipation of what he'll say next.
"I might have come from nothing, but I've been around the damned world. Which means I can say without a doubt that you are the best part of it, Six. I know we both have dreams, but mine aren't worth living unless I can live them with you."
He flips the lid on the box, and the sparkling contents almost blind me.
"I've never loved anyone the way I love you. I will do whatever it takes to convince you to spend your life with me.
"I'll trade you. The old ring for a new one."
It's gorgeous, reflecting every bit of light in this space, shining every emotion in his eyes back at me.
"No."
Timothy's face tightens in alarm. "No what?"
I rush on. "No, I won't give you the old ring back. Because our past is part of us.
"But you're my best friend. The only boy I ever loved. The person who challenges me, who's there for me, who makes me feel like I am everything I ever need to be. So I guess I could marry you."
Timothy's face is so full of fierceness I could explode.
He slips the ring onto my finger, and it feels like forever.
Then he rises, grabbing me again in a kiss that's hot enough I might melt onto this stage.
"Jewelry whore!"
I reluctantly tear my lips from Timothy's and cut a look toward Andie in the audience.
"You trying to steal my roomie, Adams?" she calls.
"It's done." I love the satisfaction in his tone, the possessiveness.
"I love you so damned much."
My blood heats. "I love you too."
Something lands on the stage, and I realize it's a sock.
"For your bedroom door," Andie tosses as she turns back up the aisle with a wave.
Timothy's grin is delicious. "Tell me we're done here."
I meet Miranda's gaze. "I think we've accomplished what we set out to."
"Agreed," my mentor says. "Emily, we'll talk tomorrow. Congratulations, Mr. Adams. And I don't mean about the role." She smiles and turns to head out.
I don't get to see her leave because Timothy's yanking me against him.
"Come here," he murmurs against my lips.
Then he's kissing me, and my brows shoot up my face.
But I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him back with everything in me.
I'm here on a damned New York stage, and all I care about is the man holding me, the one who's always held me up, always made me feel like enough.
Like we're enough.
And despite how far we've come, something tells me we're only getting started.
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