Page 60 of Anti-Hero (Kensingtons: The Next Generation #2)

“ A nd this is where Mom and Dad met.”

Dylan blinks at the brick exterior of Montgomery Hall, appearing suitably unimpressed by Kit’s tour of campus.

“The disrespect.” Kit shakes his head. “How could he not care about his family history?”

“He’s three weeks old. His interests are pretty limited.”

“Oh, look. A squirrel! Dylan, do you see the squirrel? Dyl—seriously?” Kit glances from the baby carrier to me. “He fell asleep.”

“Good. Hopefully, he’ll sleep through most of the ceremony. Speaking of which, we should get back to the tent.”

“One more stop.” Kit grabs my hand and pulls me over toward one of the benches that lines the path.

Jane’s graduation is a perfect spring day, clear and warm and sunny. I tilt my head back and glance up at the canopy of green leaves overhead.

I take a seat on the bench, but Kit doesn’t sit next to me. He starts to sink down on one knee, very slowly, and I feel my face freeze with shock.

Kit bursts out laughing, then spins and takes a seat. “Your face.” He chortles.

I bang his knee with my own. “That was not funny. At all.”

He’s still laughing quietly, one hand cradling Dylan so he isn’t disturbed by the shaking motion. “Sorry,” he says, not sounding apologetic at all. “It’s not a ring.”

I take the black jewelry box he pulled out of his blazer pocket. Kit has used my first Mother’s Day as an excuse for an endless parade of presents. “You didn’t have to?—”

“Shut up and open it, Monty.”

I give him a look.

“ Please .”

I do.

The bright sunshine reflects off the diamond earrings, creating rainbow prisms.

“I asked Lili, and she agreed they looked like you. Elegant and beautiful.”

“I love them,” I say sincerely, running a finger along the flawless surface .

“My mom said studs were more practical with the baby.”

I smile at the way he emphasizes practical . I can’t remember anything that’s made me smile more than Kit’s thoughtful teasing.

“Thank you.” I turn my head to kiss him.

Kit groans, tangling his fingers in my hair to tug at the strands.

I’m exhausted. Tired down to my marrow from all the recent sleepless nights and still recovering from giving birth a few weeks ago.

But I feel utterly content, at peace and at ease in a way I’ve never experienced before.

I don’t have everything figured out. And right now, I don’t feel like I need to.

I can just sit in this moment, on a bench in the sunshine, and appreciate the warm press of Kit’s lips against mine.

He smiles when we separate, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a way that makes me wonder what Kit will look like in twenty years. Fifty.

“I would have said yes,” I whisper impulsively, “if you’d asked.”

Impossibly, Kit’s grin stretches wider. “Don’t ruin the surprise, Monty.” He pulls another box out of his pocket, this one long and narrow. “This one’s from Dylan.”

I glance at our son, still fast asleep. “ Really ?” I drawl.

“Uh-huh. One of his limited interests is jewelry shopping.”

I snort before opening the second box. It’s a necklace with a simple chain and one round charm hanging from it. There’s a tiny D impressed into the surface, formed from more diamonds.

“It’s perfect,” I tell him, rubbing the surface of the charm with my thumb. The metal is smooth, the gemstones slightly textured. “You add more charms for each kid?”

“That’s the idea, I think. But it can be complete with just one.”

“I think I’d like two,” I say, studying it. “One looks a little lonely. But not for a couple of years. Or maybe longer. ”

“We can wait as long as you want,” he tells me. “My hand could use some time to recover.”

“Yeah, your body was really the one that suffered during labor,” I say, lifting my hair and turning my head so he can clasp the necklace.

We stand and start to head back toward the tent where the graduation ceremony is taking place. Dylan wakes up halfway there, his adorable face scrunching as he fusses.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Kit tells him. “What are you complaining about? I wish I were getting carried around in this cool contraption. And it’s way better than being stuck in Mom’s belly, right?

Did you want to watch Aunt Jane graduate?

You won’t get to if you keep crying. They’ll kick us out of the tent.

Maybe off this campus because you have a crazy pair of lungs on you, Dyl. ”

I’m smiling, listening to Kit talk when I hear my name called.

I turn, watching Professor Aldridge approach.

She was my adviser for my music major. We kept in touch via email for several months after I graduated, but I haven’t spoken to her in a couple of years now.

And the last time we talked, I was a full-time pianist. I’m sure she’ll be disappointed to hear that I’m no longer playing anything except lullabies.

“Hi, Professor Aldridge,” I greet.

It feels strange to call her Leslie now that we’re on much less familiar terms.

“It’s wonderful to see you, Collins,” she says, smiling.

“You too,” I reply.

“Are you back for graduation?”

I nod. “My sister’s.”

“That’s wonderful. How’s everything else? Are you still in Chicago? ”

“I moved to New York last summer,” I tell her. “I needed a change.”

“In cities? Or jobs?”

“Both,” I admit. “I’m a paralegal at a law firm right now. Or I was. I’m on maternity leave at the moment.” I glance toward Kit. He’s paused with Dylan in the shade under a tree a little ways ahead, letting me have a moment. Mostly because Dylan is still crying and he’s having to bounce him around.

“Oh my,” Professor Aldridge says. “Your little one is adorable.”

I smile. “Thank you. We think so too.”

“Are you still playing?” she finally asks.

“Only for fun.”

“Well, I’m not sure if this would be too much with everything else you have going on.

But I have a friend in New York who’s casting for a Broadway musical next spring.

They’ll have a full orchestral accompaniment, and I happen to know she’s looking for a pianist. If you’re interested, I can pass along your name and number. See if it might be a good fit?”

I glance at Kit again. I’m not sure he’s standing close enough to overhear our conversation, but I know what he’d say if I asked him.

“That sounds great,” I tell Professor Aldridge. “Please do.”

She beams. “Wonderful. I will. It was lovely to see you, Collins.”

“You too, Professor Aldridge.”

“Leslie, please.” One final smile, and she continues along the pathway.

I head for Kit.

“You booked a gig?” he asks, a wide, proud smile on his face.

“I maybe got an audition,” I correct.

His smile doesn’t falter. “That’s amazing, Monty. I’m proud of you. ”

I rise up on my tiptoes, giving him a kiss—a real kiss, with tongue and everything—despite the fact that my parents are twenty feet away, waiting for us so we can all head to our seats.

Kit grins against my mouth as Dylan gurgles between us.

It’s a perfect moment. Not one of the hard ones my dad alluded to. But I know Kit’s who I want to stick those out with too.