“Antares?” He points at a red spark in the sky, and I laugh.

“That’s a plane.”

“You sure?”

“I hate you.”

I let his sigh rock me like a wave. “I think it went well,” he muses.

“I agree. Aside from Eli begging us not to elope to Vegas in the next two weeks, which makes me want to do exactly that.”

His lips quirk. A crooked smile. “Don’t say that. I’m trying very hard not to ask you to marry me.”

“Don’t stop yourself on my behalf. I love a marriage proposal before bed.” I nibble on his shoulder. Shiver, chilly.

“Let me get you something to wear.”

“It’s fine. I’m not that cold.”

But he’s already gently sliding from underneath me. I follow him with my eyes, his naked thighs, the slab of his back. I’ve never found men’s asses attractive, and I’m not sure why I can’t stop looking at his. It’s more the ease of him, his confidence in his body that…

Conor is coming back. But when he returns he’s not carrying a shirt, or a sweater, or anything that I would associate with wearing.

And I’m not stupid. So I sit up.

“Oh my god. You’re doing it. For real.”

He stops a few feet from me. Tilts his head, and asks, “That one’s Antares, right?”

And yes. It is. “Are you trying to distract me from the fact that you’re proposing to me, while we are both naked, after we’ve been dating for approximately a month, by pointing out my favorite star?”

“I don’t know. Did it work?”

“Do you want it to work?”

“Listen, this is not…” He runs a hand over his hair, surprisingly conflicted. “I was in Montreal, walking around, and I saw a ring that I thought you might like, but you don’t have to…”

It’s all I can do not to laugh in his face. “You seem nervous, Conor.”

“I am.”

“Were you this nervous with Minami?”

“No.”

“You thought she’d say yes, huh?”

His shrug is simple. “I knew I could survive her no.” There is something about the way he says it, the implications, what’s hidden between the words, that…

My eyes burn. And Conor must notice the shine in them, because he kneels in front of me. “Look, you don’t have to say that you’ll marry me. You’re going through lots of changes, and I’m going to have to do the same. The ring, it can just mean…It can just be a reminder for you that I love you. That I want to marry you. That I’m a constant, never-ending yes. And that whenever you’re ready, in two years or in twenty, I’m here. In the meantime, we can be more…casual, and…”

My laugh is watery. “You’re the least casual person I know.”

“Yeah, well. That is, unfortunately, true.”

I hold my hand out to him. Watch the unique, vintage ring in his palm, the pearl and diamonds set against the rose gold metal, and—of course, he would find the perfect ring. This asshole.