No Quarter (NOLA's Own #2) (56 page)

Phil unwrapped the wicked shirt I’d bought him. Holding it up, he inspected the short-sleeved black button-down with skull and crossbones stitched onto the pockets in white thread.

“Cool!”

My next gift was a laptop computer. “Shit, Phil! How can I even
try
to compete with your gifts?”

He laughed. “It ain’t a competition. Since you’re so retarded with computers, I figured we’d get you somethin’ to practice on. You can write your band reviews and hoard it in your secret archives.”

I scowled at him. “I never should have shown you those.”

“You’re a brilliant writer, Kenna. You never should’ve become a doctor,” he responded, lifting up another present.

Over the years, I had taken to writing my own reviews and thoughts about the music I’d heard coming from the local bands. It was a small pleasure I had, for no one else other than myself. I had shared the notebooks filled with my writings with Phil after we started going to Bougainvillea regularly.

His next gift was a heavy pewter frame decorated with skulls. The real gift was the photo inside. Lili had taken it at the music festival in ’96 before NOLA’s Junk had made it big. I was in the foreground, and I was holding up my hand, so when she snapped the photo, it looked as though a doll-sized Phil was standing in my palm with me blowing him a kiss.

Phil’s eyes sparkled with delight as he turned them on me. “This is fuckin’ badass!”

I smiled. “I thought you might like that.”

Opening up my next gift, I discovered a massive box full of different types of hats in all colors, textures, and patterns.

“
Yes
!” I cried, pulling them out. “I’ll never have to do anything with my hair again!”

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare!” warned Phil. “I will take these back if you cover your head with them all the time.”

I found a huge dark brown cabby hat and shoved it on my head, tucking my hair up into it.

Phil’s hands tore open a handsome hand-tooled leather-bound book with thick handmade paper that had a brass clasp to keep it closed.

“I thought you could write your lyrics and stuff in it,” I explained.

“I love it.”

I lifted an enormous and suspiciously light box. Opening it, I discovered beneath the mad amount of wrapping tissue an envelope. Inside was an itinerary for plane tickets to—

“Rome?” I gasped.

Phil’s smile lit the room with its brilliance.

It showed a schedule for the last two weeks in February, a Valentine’s vacation.

“Lucy already cleared your schedule, and I informed Rita about it already.”

“
You
talked to Rita?” I was a little surprised.

“Well, I figured it would save you the trouble, and if she got bitchy, it would be with me, not you. She was surprisingly agreeable with the whole thing. I had been ready for a fight, too.”

“Wow! We’re going to Italy!” I might have bounced a little in my excitement.

“I debated whether we should go to Britain for Stonehenge or Naples for Pompeii. I chose the warmer climate. Britain’s fuckin’ cold in February.” Then, he quietly asked, “Did you want to see Stonehenge in the snow?”

I shook my head. “No, babe. This is just…
wow
. It’s amazing that this is my life now.”

He smiled again, and my heart tripped around in my chest.

“You gotta get used to it. Otherwise, you’ll spend the rest of our lives weepin’ each time I decide to book a flight.”

I hope I
never
get used to it. I hope that this man surprises and delights me for all time. If anyone has the power to do it, it’s Phil.

He reached for his next gift, and I felt myself flush. I watched quietly as he unwrapped it and found a box. He lifted the lid, possibly expecting to find Cohibas, and instead saw the kinky black silk cords and blindfold.

Yeah, I had gone there.

Looking at me, he cocked an eyebrow.

I cleared my throat. “Well…”

“You’re a freak, Kenna.”

“So are you!” I huffed, glaring.

He smirked. “I like it. It’s classy fucked up.”

“Yeah, it is.”

I had a few more presents to open—some fine pieces of jewelry, some pretty tank tops, a pair of dark brown UGG boots, and a brand-new NOLA’s Junk T-shirt with all
five
members on the front.

I held it up, beaming from ear to ear. “I can’t believe he’s in the band. You do realize
that
was the best present I got this Christmas, right?”

“That’s actually not an official band T-shirt yet. Lili took that photo of all of us before we asked him to join.”

I nodded, recognizing the tree in his dad’s yard in the background. They had all gotten together to jam before Connor had headed back to Miami, and Lili had asked them to gather and look badass for a few photos.

Tossing the shirt on top of my large pile, I looked over at him and saw the glowing warmth in his eyes. Suddenly, I was more nervous than I could ever remember being, but I
had
to do this. He needed to know just how important he was to me.

Sliding off the sofa, I positioned myself between his knees. His pupils expanded. He probably thought I was going to give him head.

“Phil?”

“Yeah, Baby Girl.”

Damn, why do I have to get all sweaty
now?
How can this be so nerve-wracking?

I had just discovered a new bit of respect for people in this situation. Shoving my hand into my skirt pocket, I pulled out the black velvet box and held it up, watching his eyes light up.

“What’s this?”

With fumbling shaky fingers, I pulled back the lid, and his eyes went wide.

“Is that a
DiAblo
?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah…” I replied, feeling my heart crawl into my throat. “Um, Phil?”

He reached for the ring and pulled it out to hold it up to his face and inspect it. “Whoa. It’s fuckin’ gorgeous.” His gaze touched on the inscription, and his eyes went even darker.

He looked down into my eyes, and I saw something click in his head.

Closing the box, I tossed it aside and reached for the ring. It slipped easily from his fingers, his grip gone slack, and his face held the first stirrings of shock.

“
Kenna
…” he breathed.

“Phil, you’re the reason I wake up happy and fall asleep feeling loved and safe. I can no longer remember my life before you came into it, and I never want to imagine my life without you. Will you…” I had to take a deep breath to be able to continue because the look on his face was fucking with my tear ducts.

He was staring at me, his eyes lit with an inner fire, shimmering with his own tears. His chest rose and fell rapidly, and he was clenching his jaw something fierce.

“Will you marry me?” My voice was reduced to a breathy whisper.

He nodded and swallowed thickly. His own voice was a husky whisper as he replied, “
Yes
.”

Oh, thank the gods…

Taking his left hand, I prayed that the ring I had stolen from his box of jewelry to size the DiAblo fit the correct finger. It slid over the knuckle, sitting perfectly where it was meant to. I kissed the top of his hand, and then he yanked me off the floor to straddle his waist, hands whipping the hat off my head and burying his fingers in my hair. His mouth ravaged mine, and he poured all his love into this one act for a few moments.

Tearing his mouth away, he gasped. “I need inside you
. Now
!”

“Okay,” I whispered.

He was attacking his belt and fly, pulling out his raging hard-on. I could
feel
the heat coming from it!

“Damn, Phil—”

“Now, now, now, now!” he chanted.

His hands shot under my skirt, ready to tug down the underwear that wasn’t there. When he felt my bare ass, he moaned, lifted me, positioned himself, and pulled me down as he arched up.

His head dropped to the back of the couch, and he roared just as I felt him jerk violently inside of me, “
Fuuuck
!”

Reaching out, I held his face in my hands, feeling hot tears slip beneath my fingers. “Oh, Phil…” I whispered.

Sucking in a shaky breath, he wrapped his arms around me, anchoring me to him. We sat like this for some minutes, the sounds of our hearts and harsh breaths filling the space. Then, he let out a sigh thick with contentment.

“I’ve never been so happy,” he whispered. His eyes closed tight, lips parted as he panted for breath. “I
never
want to forget this moment.”

Me neither.

Phil raised his head, reached his arms up, and cradled my face. “We’re engaged now.”

I nodded in his hands. “I suppose we are.”

“No supposin’ about it. You’re gonna be my wife. You’ve just promised me that.”

“Actually, I think I asked you to be my husband.”

He nodded. “In my heart, I already am.”

I smiled, making my cheeks smoosh. “In my heart, you already are, too.”

Concentration and focus were what I needed, and I was sorely lacking the next day, especially since I was cooking with Lewis, who always seemed to be focused on food.

Why isn’t he fat? He’s constantly tasting and sampling his own food. The only way he can have a body that good-looking is if he spends the rest of his time working out. How does he even have time to bang Lili? Oh…well, maybe he spends all his free time banging, too. Like Phil…

All I could think about was my…
fiancé
. It was fucking with my head, my mind constantly replaying the previous night.

After we had found our bearings from the couch incident, Phil had carried me up to the Pimpin’ Christmas Shag Pad. If anything, I was more than ready for it, needing to find a release for all the emotion churning inside of me. Instead, Phil had compounded all those emotions into a hot dense point that made me hyperaware of just how intense our feelings for each other had truly become.

“I love you,”
he had whispered as he removed my clothes, touching and kissing each piece of skin as he stripped me bare
.

“I love you,”
he’d told me as he crawled
naked into bed with me, covering me with his large body and cradling me close to his heart.

“I love you,” he had chanted over and over as he glided slowly into me, filling me, molding our bodies together, and creating me whole.

It had been mind-blowing. He’d made love to me with everything he had. His Third Eye pressed to mine, he’d rocked in and out, pouring his soul into me. He had
mated
his soul with mine. He’d watched me unravel, eyes wide and bright with wonder, and made me watch as he came undone. We clung and pressed and strained for
hours
, trying to fuse ourselves together.

In the end, I thought it had worked because I had woken up this morning feeling
different
. Opening my eyes, the cool white morning light had illuminated the man next to me in a glow that seemed wholly ethereal. No longer did I see Phil as the person who so completely complemented my life, but as more of an extension of myself.

The air I breathe. The blood in my veins. The heart in me that pumps my blood. He is everything I need to exist. He’s the reason I exist at all.

What a load of horseshit that had sounded like in my own head. I would have rolled my eyes at the thought of that a few months ago. It was so cliché—
the gods forbid
—yet so very, very true in a completely spiritual sense, obviously. It had freaked me out. It had felt wonderful.

Phil had opened his eyes, busting me watching him, and he smiled. That had effectively wiped all thought from my brain.

Afterward, we’d made our way back to his place via the backyard, and I’d spotted the huge wooden gazebo that had been set up sometime in the last twenty-four hours. Sheri had been putting some finishing festive touches on it, and Jason, X, and Phil’s dad had been securing the massive tent and pavilion that Louis had used for the Thanksgiving get-together.

“Don’t tell anyone we’re engaged yet,” Phil had whispered in my ear. “We’ll let everyone know tonight.”

Of course, we will,
I’d thought sarcastically.

Between the two of us, I was pretty sure I wasn’t the one who would have a problem with blabbing. I had hoped we could keep the fact that
I
had proposed to
him
a secret.

But in the end, what did it really matter?
We
wanted
to be engaged—and I was going to hold out for a long engagement, if that was at all possible. We should be together for
at least
a year, maybe two. I wouldn’t hold my breath though.

“Earth to Kenna,” drawled Lewis’s voice.

Snapping out of my train of thought, I guiltily looked at him. “Sorry.”

“Wherever you were, it must’ve been great,” he said with a smile. “But I still need you to pass me the baster.”

A few hours later, Sheri forced Alys and me to go home to get ready. It was already two o’clock, which gave us an hour.

“What are you wearing?” I asked my best friend as we trudged through the backyard.

“I got that pretty gray dress I thought I’d wear,” she replied. “I wonder what Lili’s wearing. What are
you
wearing?”

I shrugged. “I guess I could always wear the dress I wore for Thanksgiving. I also have that black pencil skirt…”