Page 17 of The Trust (As Above)

Jordan

The video of me went viral.

There were so many signups that day that Lemon and I agreed to start taking shifts, staying open later and opening up early.

I had to start a waitlist in the following weeks, when the video made yet another round on the internet.

It was enough to not only keep the gym in the black, but I just hired my second employee— Poe .

Mac even agreed to help out whenever he could, when the band wasn’t elbows deep in recording their next album.

I couldn’t have asked for a better partner, better timing, or a better fucking life.

Because between all that?

Mac managed to get his arcade up and running with the same premise.

Every is welcome here .

So, we’re hosting a soft opening for the place with his band and brothers before the official grand opening in a few weeks.

“We need some tunes up in this bitch!” Lemon yells and a few snickers follow him.

It doesn’t take long before Rex starts singing “Soulmates” by Chanin. He dances with Ari, his wife, as he harmonizes the song into the open space, his bandmates following suit.

But when Mac reaches for me, pulling me to my feet, I can’t stop the flush. The grin. The feel of air filling my lungs.

Audibly.

He wraps his arms around my neck even though he’s leading us, and we sway together, slow dancing in the middle of his arcade and I’ve never felt so damn loved before in my life.

When I look at him, I see forever. My forever. The one where we’re both happy and whole and get everything we’ve ever needed. Anything we’ve always wanted.

It’s been seven months—and in some cases, that’s way too soon—but as I lean down to press my forehead to Mac’s, I know that I can’t wait. Not another moment. Not another missed chance.

He’s waited this long after all.

My soulmate. My life.

“Vida,” I whisper, the tickle of his breathy answer tingles my lips, and I meet his eyes. “Tell me you don’t wanna go back.”

His brows dip, but his lips are still tipped up at the corner.

“Never,” he says with such vehemence, such certainty, that I feel my own smile stretch. “But why you asking me that? You already know my answer.”

I should be nervous, shouldn’t I?

But as I roll my forehead over his, match his steps in our sway to a song that’s faded for everyone else by now but never ends for us, I can’t find it in me to see any other way.

He’s right here.

Chaos and grins.

The light of my life.

My burning answer.

Mi Vida.

“ Cásate conmigo .”

He freezes and squeaks out a what that I know isn’t one where he needs me to repeat it, but instead needs a second to compute it, and I take the chance anyway.

Grabbing his arms, I pull them from my neck. Slide my hands down to hold his.

Drop to my knee.

“Marry me.”

His eyes go wide. Glassy.

“Have kids with me.”

His body trembles.

“Share the rest of my life with me.”

His throat bobs with an audible swallow.

“It’s only ever going to be you. Been you. Since we met, it’s always been you.”

He whimpers and a tear spills over his cheek.

“Be my first and my last, Mac. Cásate conmigo . Marry me.”

“Holy shit, if you don’t say yes, I will,” his sister-in-law calls out from somewhere behind me.

“ Babe, ” Rex drags out.

“What?! That’s the sweetest fucking thing I’ve ever heard,” she answers and my stomach flips.

“ Baaaabe. ”

My grin tips at the banter, but I don’t take my eyes off Mac for a second. The freckle on his cheekbone. The blue swirling in his green eyes. The moisture tracking down his face.

That orange bandana.

“ Estas seguro? ” he whispers.

My smile softens at his use of my mother’s tongue.

I know he’s trying to learn it for me, for her even though she’s gone, and if I didn’t already know he’s the other half of my soul, I would after that.

“Of you? I’m always sure.”

“Then get up.”

He tugs on my hands and my brows dip. “You didn’t answer.”

He nods. “I know.”

It takes a second pull for me to stand, though with the wave of nerves that roll over my stomach, I don’t know that it’ll be for long.

It gets worse when Mac lets me go.

I swallow the sudden thickness from my throat. “V-Vida?”

“Do you have a ring?” he asks, and I swallow again as guilt races through me, making my chest clench.

“No.”

“So, you thought you’d steal another moment by the seat of your pants? Sounds like something I would do.”

I’m searching his eyes. His face. Everything I feel for the man in front of me and hoping—praying—that I’m not wrong.

I know he feels this, too. I know he does.

“You look like you might throw up, baby. Guess I could put you outta your misery.”

“Ya think,” I half growl around the heart that’s taken up residence in my throat.

But then he gathers my hand in one of his.

Drops to his knees.

And holds up a small box.

He tries to open it one handed, but when that doesn’t work, he uses his teeth.

The tiny hinge creeks when it flips back, and my eyes burn. My chest fills. My abs clench so hard I might fall over.

“Yes,” I answer immediately.

“Wait, I didn’t even get anything out.”

“Yes.”

“Tyro,” he groans.

“Yes.”

He sighs but he’s smiling. “Fuck it.”

Mac bites the ring from the insert and tosses the box to free his hand. The band is between fingers when he looks up at me, his eyes swimming with certainty and love and everything I want the rest of my life to look like.

Mac. Mac. Mac.

“Yes.”

His face splits wide open as he slides the band onto my finger.

And then my man is up and he’s kissing me like our lives depend on it.

It’s not until our chest collide and his hips do a little thrusting motion against mine that a clearing throat catches my attention.

Oh right .

His entire band is here.

But when I pull back, stare at my fiancé for a beat longer then glance around, I nearly choke.

It’s not just his brothers but mine. Ours.

Security and the band. The girls and the kids, and my eyes fill.

“You planned this.”

“The song was a nice touch, bro,” he mumbles to his twin and spins around, his grin in place, my hand held in his. “He said yes !”

I laugh when he raises my hand and shows off the ring. The one I haven’t even looked at yet.

My breath catches when the etching catches the light, and I twist to read the whole thing.

Imbedded in the black band are silver letters. Spanish, my mother’s language.

“Mac,” I croak out through a thick throat, though it sounds more like a sob.

“ Por siempre tú y yo, ” he whispers for me, his r less rolled and more loving than anything he’s ever said. “Forever you and me, baby.”

I grab his face, the cool metal pressing into my finger like hope, and I press my lips to his once again.

It’s the indecent kind. The forever kind.

The mine kind.

God, I’ll never get tired of kissing him.

My love.

My light.

Mi Vida .

“You and me, Mac.”

The End