Page 200 of Alphas Like Us

There’ll never bea perfect moment topropose.

It’s what I’ve been thinking about. How today I could face a family emergency, a media fallout, the most bizarre random happening and doomsday—Christ, the man on the moon could come down and try to fuck this up for all I know. But that’s okay if hedoes.

Because this doesn’t need to beperfect.

Farrow Redford Keene fell in love with the imperfect me. The human me. And whatever happens today, before or after, it’ll probably, most likely be imperfectlyhuman.

At the island of Kythira, we sightsee in the quaint village Mylopotamos, and Farrow and I separate from the family to hike one of the most stunningtrails.

Lush plane trees shade a path littered with stone ruins of old watermills. Passing blue-green waterfall after blue-green waterfall, the rushing sound calms theair.

Farrow ducks beneath a branch in his way, not in mine. My durable backpack is strapped to his back, his Yale V-neck suctioning to his chest in the summer heat. And me—I’m carrying a whole lot of nothing. Giving my shoulders a break foronce.

I catch Farrow swiveling the knob to a radio on his waistband and I ask, “Turning the volume down on themalready?”

His lips rise. “They’re being particularly annoying rightnow.”

“Who’sthey?” I ask for specific names fromSFO.

He nearly laughs. “All of them.” He looks deep into me, his eyes smiling with airy light—and I don’t need to ask if he’s happy about rejoining security. There’s nothing moreobvious.

Farrow reaches out, and our hands seem to draw together on instinct. It’s the most natural, simple thing: his hand in my hand while we hike a trail. But it means something tome.

Coming up to a lagoon, we slow to a stop. I’ve seen a lot of breathtaking views in my life, but what we reach is fucking majestic. An azure waterfall plunges into a crystal clear, bottomless pool. Mossy stones isolate the oasis, and light dances between the leaves of a sweeping plane tree overhead. Glittering the swimmingpond.

“Wow,” Farrow says first, and he pulls off the backpack, setting it on theground.

Water mists the air and sprays my cheeks. Refreshingly cool. And that deep pond has to be cold, but I’d still swim in it withFarrow.

Near the edge of the green-blue water, I squat down and untie my hiking boot. I’m trying not to overthink here. Just feel what I feel, and it’ll come tome.

And honest to God, as Farrow crouches only a foot in front of me and unzips the backpack, a dragonfly flutters past his shoulders, and then zips past hisface.

He’s only watching me. His smile stretching from cheek-to-cheek like he’s fully aware that I’m in love with this place, this damn moment,him.

I lick my lips, not breaking our gazes while I unknot my boot. “I think we’ve made it toNeverland.”

“Neverland,” Farrow repeats, looking me up and down with amusement. His hand descends into the backpack. “Don’tlost boysstay young foreverthere?”

“Yeah.” I loosen my lace, his eyes swimming against myeyes.

“That’s too bad then,” Farrow says matter-of-factly. “Because I want to grow old withyou.”

The strong promise inside those words floods my whole body.I want to grow old with you.It floods myeyes.

I want to grow old withyou.

Staying crouched, I’m about to speak, but words catch in my throat as his tattooed hand leaves the backpack. He’s holding a small woodenbox.

Farrow lowers his knee to the mossystone.

Ishe…?

Before I say anything, he cups one side of my face with a protective, affectionate hand, and he tilts his head towards my other cheek, his jaw gliding along myjaw.

Until his lips brush softly against myear.

And very deeply, he whispers, “You’ve been my forever guy. You aremy forever guy, wolf scout.” His breath warms my skin, and I curve my bicep around his shoulders, staying close. Hangingon.