Parker tosses the phone to the bed and places one hand on each side of me, leaning over. “I never claimed to be a good girl, Fitz,” she says. “I hope you’re not disappointed.”

“Never.” I tug her by the tie of the robe. “Come here.”

Parker straddles my waist, pressing her forehead to mine. “Can you believe we’re married?”

Can I believe I married the girl next door, the president’s daughter, the woman I’ve been in love with probably since before I even knew what love really was? I honestly can’t. But when Parker adjusts herself, I know that in seconds, my cock certainly will.

“No,” I tell her. “Kind of feels like a dream. Maybe you should pinch me.”

The smile she carries morphs into puckered lips before she kisses me.

“How’s that?” Her mouth still floats close.

“Still feels kind of dreamy,” I hum. “Give it another go.”

Parker laughs and kisses me again, and my hands find her waist, holding her where she is as I linger before deepening the kiss, which is a total mistake because beneath the towel, my cock rises, eager to pledge it’s allegiance to my wife.

My wife, who still doesn’t know how I feel about her.

“Wait a second.”

She lifts her mouth from mine. “Fitz. We’re married.”

I contemplate asking her to say it again because I’ll never tire of hearing it.

“That was the plan.”

Parker smooths some of my wet hair back from my forehead “You have a crush on me.”

“Don’t think you get to use my words against me.”

She sits up entirely now, though thankfully, avoiding the red zone. “What are we doing, Fitz?”

Parker’s eyes fall to the ring on her finger, sparking an idea. I tap her thigh over the robe and lift her off me so I can stand and face the bed. Her face wrinkles in confusion.

I drop to one knee.

“What are you doing?” Parker bursts into laughter, sitting on her knees.

Since her left hand is already occupied, I take her right. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

“I’m your wife.” Parker is quick to remind me.

“You woke up yesterday my fiancée, went to sleep my wife, so do me a favor and give me the first step in that cycle, would you?” I cradle her face. “I want to start at the beginning. I don’t want to miss out on anything with you.”

Isn’t that what they say? Life is about the journey, not the destination. And I want all of it with her. From start to finish. I want everything I never had because I was too god damn afraid to say anything. Because if I had then, maybe things would’ve been so different.