Page 68 of No Take Backs

Dad lets go of my arm and I fight the urge to bolt back inside. “Meanie,” I hiss.

And then he is giving me to Josh.

But when I turn to where Josh should be standing, ready to greet me, he’s not there. My heart skips a beat as I search for him, panic momentarily seizing me. Then I spot him—sitting on the ground, of all places, looking like he’s been knocked off his feet by some invisible force.

“What are you doing?” I ask, half laughing, half-panicked as I hurry over to him. The sight of him there, looking up at me with that mischievous grin, is both endearing and confusing.

He doesn’t answer right away, his eyes locking on mine as if he’s trying to commit this moment to memory, and suddenly, all the nerves come rushing back.

“Are you okay?” I hold out a hand, my concern growing as I try to help him up. But instead of taking it, he just stares at me, his eyes widening as he takes in my outfit.

“You’re wearing a bright-yellow dress? For your birthday party?” he asks, his tone incredulous but tinged with a hint of laughter. His gaze moves from the dress to my face, as if he’s trying to reconcile the image before him with the woman he knows.

I shift uncomfortably under his scrutiny, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “I lost a bet. With Lyla,” I admit mournfully, the memory of our deal still fresh in my mind. “I have to wear yellow. To match hers.”

As if on cue, Lyla waves exuberantly from her spot next to her parents, her own yellow dress practically glowing in the sunlight. Richard, ever the loyal sidekick, is wearing a pair of yellow shorts that match our dresses perfectly. His proud smile makes it clear that he’s as much a part of this mischief as Lyla is.

“She hates me,” I mutter.

Josh still isn’t getting up.

“What are you doing down there? People are going to start looking at us soon,” I say, trying to sound nonchalant, though I can feel my pulse quickening. The truth is, everyone is already looking. When I glance around, I see that every set of eyes in the yard is fixed on us, anticipation hanging in the air like a tangible thing.

“Nia,” Josh says softly, his voice pulling my attention back to him. There’s something in his tone that makes my breath catch in my throat, something that tells me this moment is about to change everything.

I look down to see him no longer on his ass. Now he is on a knee, but he still has my hand.

“What?”

“Marry me,” he says, his voice steady and sure, as if this is the most natural thing in the world. But there’s a vulnerability in his eyes, a quiet plea that makes my breath hitch.

“What?” My heart starts racing even faster, and I pull my hand away, thinking about running in the opposite direction. The intensity of the moment is overwhelming, and for a split second, I’m tempted to bolt back into the safety of the house.

Maybe I can make it back inside before anyone notices.

But then Josh’s hand tightens around mine, pulling me back into the present, grounding me in the reality of what’s happening.

“You’re going to marry me,” he says. There’s no hesitation, no doubt, just the quiet confidence of a man who knows exactly what he wants. And that’s me.

“You’re not asking?” I manage to choke out, the heat rising to my cheeks as I become acutely aware of everyone watching us. I’ve always hated being the center of attention, and right now, I feel like I’m under a spotlight, every eye in the yard on me, waiting for my reaction.

Josh shakes his head, smiling as he pulls a ring from his other pocket. “No,” he says simply, as if that’s all there is to it. “I’m not asking. I’m telling you. Because I know, deep down, that you’re just as sure about this as I am.”

“What if I say no?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper, but there’s a playful glint in my eyes. I lick my lips, suddenly aware of how dry they’ve become, as if the weight of this moment has stolen all the moisture from my mouth.

He gets up slowly, still holding my hand, and slides the ring onto my finger. The cool metal sends a shiver up my spine, and I can’t help but marvel at how perfectly it fits, as if it was made for me.

“I’ll just tie you to the bed until you say yes,” he replies, his voice low and teasing, but there’s an edge of seriousness in his tone that makes my breath catch. He’s not joking. This man would do anything to keep me, to make sure I’m his forever. “But first I’ll choke you on my dick until tears run down your face and you’re begging for me to fuck you.”

“Is that a promise?”

In the next second, I’m in his arms, lifted off the ground as easily as if I weigh nothing at all. He kisses me swiftly, his lips warm and firm against mine, sending a jolt of electricity through my body. When he pulls back, his eyes are sparkling with mischief, and he winks at me, making my heart flutter.

“I’ll be tying you to the bed no matter what you say. But we both know you’re going to marry me. You’re not running from us anymore.”

“Yes,” I tell him. “Now take me to bed.”

“Not a chance.” Josh laughs, the sound warm and full of love, as he pulls me closer and kisses me soundly. The crowd of people around us erupts into cheers and applause, their voices mingling with the music and the warm evening air, but all I can focus on is Josh—the way his eyes shine with love and desire, the way his hands feel on my skin, the way his heartbeat echoes in time with mine.

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