Page 203 of Dirty Discipline, Vol. 1

I clutch his shirt, then smack his chest. “You were so stupid!”

“You sure made me see it.”

He gets down on one knee before me, the vision making my heart stop before it starts tap dancing, robbing me of my breath. Holding up my backpack as if it’s a ring, he inhales shakily.

“Marry me. Make me the happiest man on earth, even though I’ll never deserve it, and I’ll spend my life making you the happiest woman in existence.”

I accept my Fjallraven. The tears that have fallen the whole night and the whole day return, dripping down my cheeks.

Stephan is still on his knee, and that’s how the cops find him.

He doesn’t put up a fight, and as they lead him away, I shout, “Yes. I have a ton of conditions, but yes.”

Right before they disappear, I add, “I love you back!”

He turns his head, his features transforming as a wide smile spreads on his face.

Epilogue

Summer

Stephan gets away with a fine and paying for damage.

We all turn our vehicles around and head the other direction.

Home.

That’s two days of driving and one night in a motel.

We get a separate room for Mom.

“Say it again,” I say as he closes the door behind us.

Stephan drops our bags on the floor and moves in on me. I back up with a squeal. Up against the wall. He follows suit, his palms flat against the wall on either side of my head, his arms trapping me, his body flush against mine.

“I love you,” he growls.

His bulge presses against my belly, sending heat trickling from everywhere he touches me, down to between my legs, to where I have longed to feel him again.

He steps away, and I sag in disappointment.

“I have something I need to do first. Come.” He takes my hand and opens the door, then pulls me with him before he closes and locks it.

I have no idea what he’s up to when he knocks on Mom’s door.

It’s only eight in the evening. She looks like she just woken. In all fairness, we’ve been on the road all day.

“Yes?” She hugs me, then Stephan. “Come inside.”

“Mrs. Jones. I’d be honored to have your blessing to marry Summer.”

Mom’s jaw almost hits the floor, then she squeals and claps her hands together before her face goes serious. She pokes him in the chest.

“You better do right by Summer, or I’ll come for you.”

He smiles then, respect and appreciation written on his face. “I believe we’re on the same page, Mrs. Jones. You have my word.”

“Call me, Gracie,” she says.

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