Beyond Compare (h.e.s)

part fourteen

And that's when I see it.

A bright blue bag with a white ribbon. Even someone as immune to girliness as I am knows it's from Tiffany's. And it's sitting on our dining room table, next to Harry's keys.

Oh my god.

Harry is going to propose tonight.

o0o

I'm still standing in the same place, staring at the Tiffany's bag, when Harry walks out of the shower. Without thinking, I blurt out, "If you get down on one knee in that towel, your dick will stick out."

His face creases in confusion. "Well... that's a strange thing to say." He walks over and kisses me quickly, like he always does when I come home. Laughing, he says, "And why exactly am I getting down on one knee?" Uh oh. Oh no. Oh god. He's not going— "Don't guys only do that when they're about to propo..." He trails off when he spies the bag on the kitchen table.

But instead of going into shock-freak out mode like I have, he just laughs again. "That? Those are the wedding rings. Carter asked me to hold onto them since I'm the best man." I don't say anything and he snaps in front of my face twice. "Wedding rings, Iz. Summer and Carter's. Which means not yours and mine."

I wish I could just say something coherent, but my brain is going a million miles a minute. I'm supposed to be relieved that he's not proposing; I'm me, so commitment-phobic that I got skittish when I joined Netflix.

"So it's not an engagement ring?" I say, slowly.

He keeps one hand on the knot on his towel and cups my cheek with the other. "No, it's not. I'm not proposing. I know you have reservations about marriage; I am not going to push you into anything."

"Okay," I say, still completely bewildered and caught off guard. Because yes, I used to be really scared of settling down... until Harry. I'm not that girl anymore; I'm the one who spilled the beans about us dating to our friends; I'm the one who suggested moving in together and I'm the one moved my stuff in here.

I'm still an idiot, of course, because I balked when Amber suggested that he might propose, and somehow didn't even realized that in the last few days, I've started looking forward to his proposal. Harry has changed me for the better without even trying. Maybe because he wasn't trying.

"So no proposal, okay? I'm not even going there yet. We're good," he announces and then frowns. "You okay?"

"Yeah," I reply but it's totally without feeling. Because I suddenly am aware of this completely new person that I've just realized I am, but it doesn't seem like Harry has noticed. And I'm not quite sure how to exist in a world where Harry doesn't know me better than myself.

He must notice that I'm a little off because his brow creases in concern. "Look at how freaked out you are with just the suggestion of it."

I don't want to blurt that I'm totally ready for him to propose, especially when he's making it so clear he's not even thinking about it.

It's kind of a blow to my ego, really.

So I nod and he kisses me on my cheek, heading into the bedroom to change. I watch his back, muscled from years of playing racquetball and tennis. My eyes travel down that little 'v' where his hair ends to his trim, taut waist and those damn dimples on his lower back that I love so much and then I force myself to snap out of my haze. I'm being stupid. We were fine before this—better than fine. And now that I'm not waiting on pins and needles for him to propose, we can go back to the way we've always been.