"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Tristan grunted. He let go of the headboard before lowering his body over mine and pressed his forehead against my own while he thrust faster. His hot breath washed over me as his strokes turned frantic, and then, he tensed and screamed, burying in me to the hilt one last time with trembling muscles.

It took us forever to stop gasping for air with his heavy body draped over mine. I could feel him still in me, throbbing gently.

"That was so fucking good," my mouth heaved out.

He nodded against my shoulder, "That doesn't even begin to cover it."

Later, once we'd both caught our breath, he reached over to his nightstand and opened the drawer to pull out a slim, long box. Rolling us onto our sides, he handed it to me. "I didn't make you a cupcake, but I hope you like it."

Pulling the lid off of the plain, white box, a necklace with a small pendant lay nestled on the velvet inside. It was a crescent moon made out of a row of opals and another row of what looked like small diamonds with a single opal crafted between the curves of the moon. A thin, silver watchchain was slipped through the pendant, and I couldn't help but bite my lip and open my mouth to tell him that it was too much.

"Before you tell me I shouldn't have, I didn't buy it, okay? It was my grandma's and it's really old. I saw it a while ago when I was helping my mom sort through her belongings and it reminded me of you, goldie." His voice lowered before he kissed my collarbone. "You're like my moon. Pretty pointless according to other people, but without you, the world is pretty much over. I wouldn't have any stability, there wouldn't be any cool things like tides; if you broke into a million pieces you'd kill everything on the planet," he tried to say it with a straight face but he couldn't.

Snorting, I sucked in a harsh breath, looking at my gift. I wanted to cry and he knew it because he kissed my nose and each of my eyebrows tenderly. "I love it, Mag. Thank you so much."

"You're welcome."

I didn't want to ruin the moment but this felt larger than anything. He'd given me something of his family's and even though it was proof of a love greater than I could understand, the tiny nugget of curiosity that had always nibbled away at me needed to be answered. "Tristan? Can I ask you something?" He groaned something out that sounded like a bear's growl. "Why did you start talking to me?"

He was quiet, only breathing loudly through his nose. "At the convention?"

"Yeah."

"I don't know," he said in a low voice. A kiss planted itself on the crook of my neck. "You were digging in your butt, and then you were so goof— I don't know. You made me laugh." He was quiet, but I could sense that he was still deliberating with an answer. "I guess I wanted to understand this pretty girl who could make me laugh."

I wormed a hand through his sweat soaked hair, raking my fingers over his scalp. "I'm glad you think I'm funny."

"Kat," he murmured against my ear, taking the box from my hands and placing it on the bed behind him. Tristan moved his hips and hardening cock in me, slowly. "I'll never get tired of laughing at you."

Chapter 59

"I'm gonna cry."

"Be quiet."

Hiccup. "I'm not kidding. I'm gonna cry."

"Josh, shut up."

"This is a big day," his voice trembled, eyeing Nikki as she made her way down the aisle.

"For Nicole," I whispered into his ear.

"For all of us," he hissed back.

I couldn't disagree with him there.

I'd spent the night with my three best friends, leaving Tristan alone in the room we'd agreed to share during our stay. Since Nikki had opted not to have a bachelorette party, we'd deemed the night our own to say our goodbyes to the single life of Nicole Jonasson, She-Who-Hath-Slept-With-Gay-and-Straight-Men-Alike. Zoey had claimed the night before when we huddled in her room that she felt like she was getting married, too. I was nervous and excited, and Josh was just an emotional wreck. Even though it was always Nikki who took care of us emotionally and physically, I likened the feeling to having my own child getting married and starting her own life. I knew it was part of growing up and all but it was still bittersweet.