Ugly Love Page 77
Author: Colleen Hoover

I return my attention to the controls until I reach optimal altitude, and then I mute Cap’s headset. I glance at Tate, and she’s staring at me, watching me with an appreciative smile spread across her lips.

“Want to know why we’re here?” I ask her.

She glances over her shoulder at Cap and then looks back at me. “Because he’s never done this before.”

I shake my head, timing it just right. “Remember the day we were driving back from your parents’ house after Thanksgiving?”

She nods, but her eyes are curious now.

“You asked what it was like to experience the sunrise from up here. It’s not something that can be described, Tate.” I point out her window. “You just have to experience it for yourself.”

She immediately turns and looks out her window. Her palms press against the glass, and for five minutes straight, she doesn’t move a muscle. She watches it the entire time, and I don’t know how, but I fall even more in love with her in this moment.

When the sun has broken through the clouds and the airplane is completely filled with sunlight, she finally turns back to face me. Her eyes are filled with tears, and she doesn’t speak a word. She just reaches for my hand and holds it.

“Wait here,” I tell her. “I want to help Cap out first. A driver is taking him back to the apartment, because you and I are going to breakfast after this.”

She tells Cap goodbye and waits patiently in the plane as I help him down the steps. He reaches into his pocket and hands me the boxes, then flashes me one of his approving smiles. I shove the boxes into the pocket of my jacket and turn back toward the steps.

“Hey, boy!” Cap yells, right before climbing into the car. I pause and turn around to face him. He looks at the plane behind me. “Thank you,” he says, waving his hand down the length of the plane. “For this.”

I nod, but he disappears inside the vehicle before I can tell him thank you in return.

I climb back up the steps and into the plane. She’s unbuckling her safety belt, getting prepared to exit the plane, but I slide back into my seat.

She smiles at me warmly. “You’re incredible, Miles Mikel Archer. And I have to say, you look pretty damn hot flying an airplane. We should do this more often.”

She gives me a quick peck on the mouth and begins to get up out of her seat.

I push her back down. “We’re not finished,” I say, turning and facing her full on. I take her hands in mine and look down at them, inhaling slowly, preparing to say everything she deserves to hear. “That day you asked me about watching the sunrise?” I look her in the eyes again. “I need to thank you for that. It was the first moment in more than six years I felt like I wanted to love someone again.”

She blows out a quick breath with her smile and pulls in her bottom lip to try to hide it. I lift a hand to her face and pull her lip out from beneath her teeth with the pressure of my thumb. “I told you not to do that. I love your smile almost as much as I love you.”

I lean forward to kiss her again, but I keep my eyes open so I can make sure that I’m retrieving the black box first. When I have it in my hand, I stop kissing her and pull away. Her eyes fall to the box and immediately grow wide, moving back and forth between the box and my face. Her hand comes up to her mouth, and she covers her gasp.

“Miles,” she says, continuing to trade glances between me and the box in my hands.

I cut her off. “It’s not what you think,” I say, immediately opening the box to reveal the key. “It’s kind of not what you think,” I hesitantly add.

Her eyes are wide and hopeful, and I’m relieved by her reaction. I can tell by her smile that she wants this.

I pull the key out and flip her hand over, then place it in her palm. She stares at the key for several seconds and looks back up at me. “Tate,” I say, looking at her with hope. “Will you move in with me?”

She looks down at the key one more time, then says two words that bring an immediate smile to my face.

Hell and yes.

I lean forward and kiss her. Our legs and arms and mouths become two pieces of a puzzle, fitting together effortlessly. She winds up in my lap, straddling me in the cockpit of the airplane.

It’s cramped and tight.

It’s perfect.

“I’m not a very good cook, though,” she warns. “And you do laundry way better than I do. I just throw all the whites and colors together. And you know I’m not very nice in the morning.” She’s holding my face, spouting off every warning she can, as if I don’t know what I’m getting myself into.

“Listen, Tate,” I tell her. “I want your mess. I want your clothes on my bedroom floor. I want your toothbrush in my bathroom. I want your shoes in my closet. I want your mediocre leftovers in my fridge.”

She laughs at that.

“Oh, and I almost forgot,” I say, pulling the other box from my pocket. I hold it up between us and open it, revealing the ring. “I also want you in my future. Forever.”

Her mouth is open in shock, and she’s staring at the ring. She’s frozen. I hope she doesn’t have doubts, because I have absolutely none when it comes to wanting to spend the rest of my life with her. I know it’s only been six months, but when you know, you know.

Her silence makes me nervous, so I quickly remove the ring and pick up her hand. “Will you break rule number two with me, Tate? Because I really want to marry you.”

She doesn’t even have to say yes. Her tears and her kiss and her laugh say it for her.

She pulls back and looks at me with so much love and appreciation it makes my chest hurt.

She’s absolutely beautiful. Her hope is beautiful. The smile on her face is beautiful. The tears streaming down her cheeks are beautiful.

Her love is beautiful.

She exhales a soft breath and leans in slowly, gently pressing her lips to mine. Her kiss is filled with tenderness and affection and an unspoken promise that she’s mine now.