Nightfall (Devil's Night #4)

“But you’re going to be fucking mine someday,” he growled. “Come hell or high water, Emory Scott. You’re my woman, and you’re going to come home to me every day and sit at my table and warm my fucking bed.” He kissed me. “And you’re going to give me a Will Grayson IV. Mark my words.”

I loved that feeling too, Winter Ashby.
It wasn’t the ride, though, honey. It wasn’t the ride.

Little shit. I mean, I did do her literature assignment for her.

These moods were harder to take sometimes than the violence.

Have you used them a lot, or did you just lube up with your own tears over the years?”

“I’m fucking bored.”

“I know.” Kai let out a sigh. “I’m feeling it, too. I need something to happen.”

“Something to obsess over,” Michael added.

And then Damon chimed in. “We should kill someone.”

Michael snorted, Kai rolled his eyes, and I plucked the cigarette out of Damon’s mouth, taking a drag and shaking my head.

Michael whipped his uniform blazer at Damon. “I was thinking I needed the season to start, you fucking psycho.”

“No.” I exhaled. “I want to be all here for her. I’m good.”

“Does this bother you?” he asked. “We don’t have to drink.”

“I’m marrying you,” I whispered.

He nodded. “’Bout time you caught up.”

“Can you marry me? Can I marry you?”