Page 129 of Consummation

“Yeah, I thought it was weird you were turning down an opportunity to drink champagne,” I write. “So, hey, will you go shopping with me when I get back? I’m suddenly feeling the urge to buy lots and lots of PINK!!!!! Woohooooooo!”

“Hellz yeah!!!” Sarah writes. “I’m already planning to buy my sweet little niece a pair of her very own pink, sparkly boots! Yeehaw!”

I laugh out loud and begin tapping out a reply, but before I can finish my message, a text notification comes in from Josh.

“Raise the blind on your window and look outside,” Josh’s text says.

“Gotta go,” I quickly type to Sarah. “The director of our mini-porno just told me to take my mark. Teehee. I’ll give you a full report later, girlio.”

“You better,” Sarah writes. “Have fun, Kitty Kat!” She attaches a cat emoji and a heart.

“Meow,” I write, followed by a salsa dancer (the emoji I always use to symbolize Sarah), plus a heart of my own.

I put my phone back into my sparkling clutch and then, as instructed, slowly raise the window blind and peek outside.

No.

Impossible.

Joshua William Faraday has just killed me. I’m officially dead. RIP Katherine Ulla Morgan. It’s been a great life.

Josh is standing below me on the tarmac in his perfectly tailored tuxedo, staring up with a smoldering expression on his handsome face—and with his arm in a freakin’ sling!

“Stop!” I yell toward the cockpit, even though the airplane isn’t moving (and the engines aren’t even on). “Stop!” I shriek again, leaping dramatically up from my chair. My brain isn’t processing coherent thought right now, it’s true, but I don’t need conscious thought to know what I’m supposed to do in this scene—I’ve seen it inThe Bodyguardtwenty times, after all.

I burst down the stairs of the plane as fast as I can manage in my tight-fitting dress and towering heels and sprint (sort of) to Josh. And when I reach him, I throw my arms around his neck, hyperventilating. “Josh,” I gasp. “I love you, I love you, I love—”

Josh’s tongue slides into my mouth, shutting me up, while his free hand caresses my back—and when he pulls away from our kiss, his eyes are on fire. “Katherine Ulla Morgan,” he says, his voice intense. “I. Will. Always. Love. You.”

I squeal loudly, completely enthralled.

“I know marriage isn’t in the cards for us,” Josh says, “since neither of us wants that kind ofhoopla,as we’ve discussed.” One side of his mouth hitches up. “But I hope you’ll accept this gift as a symbol of my eternal love for you.” He pulls a skinny, rectangular jewelry box out of his pocket.

“Oh my effing God,” I blurt, even before Josh has opened the box. “No, Josh.No. Whatever that is, it’s too much, honey.No.”

“There’s no such thing as ‘too much’ when it comes to you, babe,” Josh says.

“No,” I breathe. “Baby, no. You can’t. Too much.”

“Ssh. You can forbid me to give extravagant gifts to your parents,” Josh says. “But when it comes to giving gifts to you, I’ll do whatever the fuck I want.”

I clutch my stomach. “Oh God, I feel like I’m gonna hurl,” I say.

Josh flinches. “Not quite the reaction I was going for, babe.”

I feel myself turning green.

“Well, shit,” Josh says, crinkling his nose. “Maybe take a deep breath? Fuck, Kat. Seriously?”

I take a deep breath, but my nausea doesn’t subside.

Josh’s scowl intensifies. “I haven’t even opened the box yet, Kat.”

“Sorry.”

Josh exhales in frustration. “Maybe bend over and breathe deeply? I’ll hold onto you so you don’t fall over.”

I bend over and breathe for a long moment as Josh holds me and rubs my back and, soon, thankfully, I’ve regained my equilibrium. “Okay,” I say, standing upright again. “I’m good.”

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