He let out a rough laugh. “Yeah.”

“So . . .” Her smile faded and she voiced her fear. “You’re not those things anymore?”

“Oh, I’m still scared. Scared that you won’t believe me when I say I want you to be happy, whatever you decide to do with your life. I told you once you were in the driver’s seat.” He flashed a self-deprecating smile. “I’m going to learn to stop backseat driving. I hope you can forgive me.”

Unable to access her words for the emotion swamping her, Emma took their joined hands and pressed them to her heart. “Already done,” she whispered.

Simon’s eyes were solemn. Fiercely intense. “Don’t let me off the hook too easily, Emma. You deserve—”

“Already done,” she repeated softly.

They reached for each other, hands grappling, not stopping until she was on his lap and straddling him. The first touch of their lips was almost a query, as if they needed to make sure they were both on the same page. Good news—they were. Their second kiss went nuclear, but Simon stopped them before they lost any clothes, which was a huge bummer.

“I got distracted,” he said, not breathing all that steadily, which gave her a rush. “We were talking about your medical coverage. I could—”

“We weren’t talking, we were kissing.”

“But I can help—”

Emma put a finger over his mouth. And still breathing hard from the kiss, she managed, “I’m going to stop you right there.” She pulled away. “I saw my doctor yesterday, and my PT today. Also talked to my health care advocate and my parents—who, by the way, only talk about this. Nothing else, ever. So while it’s very sweet of you to try and help, I just want to have a night off from all that with someone who cares about me. Can you be that person or not?”

“Yes, of course, but—”

Done with this line of talk, Emma let the blanket fall to the floor. Taking in the view, Simon groaned and reached for her, running his big, warm hands over her body, making her feel things she’d forgotten she could.

“Emma.” He buried his face in her hair. “God, I missed you. So fucking much.”

She opened her mouth to say she’d missed him too, but once again her brain disconnected and acted independently, and what came out was, “I love you, Simon.”

She froze. And so did he. She closed her eyes but it was the damn truth. She loved him. But she hadn’t intended to put it out there, and certainly hadn’t meant to say it first, before she knew his feelings.

In the space between her heartbeats, she could hear Hog snoring, the TV soft in the background, the cadence of Simon’s heart. All so normal, when what she felt was anything but.

Simon slid out from beneath her and dropped to his knees, cupping her face as he looked into her eyes, his own brimming with emotion. “Marry me, Emma.”

Her eyes flew open. She stared at him. “Did you really just . . . ?”

“Yes. Which is what I hope you’re about to say.”

“Oh my God.” Marry him. The idea took hold and she felt her eyes well up, but she was also laughing. “You know my last engagement didn’t work out so well for me.”

“So let’s skip the engagement. Let’s just do it. I don’t have a ring yet, but we can do that tomorrow and be married by the weekend.”

She laughed.

He didn’t, and a sense of unease began to spread through her. “That sounds . . . great, but I’d really want my parents to be here, and they’d have to fly in. And I’d need time to get a dress . . . A few months at least.” She smiled. “Besides, what’s the rush? A piece of paper doesn’t matter to me, just knowing we’re together is the good part.”

“But if we got married now, before the end of the second quarter, then I’d be able to get you on my insurance in the third quarter, and you could get your procedure back on the books. And with my coverage, there’s almost no copay.”

She shook her head, confused. “Why are we talking about my procedure in the same sentence as marriage?”

“Because the marriage will allow my insurance to cover your procedure.”

Emma’s world stopped turning on its axis and she felt herself tremble because she was suddenly cold to the bone. Standing, she wrapped the blanket around her tightly, feeling like her heart had just been sliced in half. Right. She loved Simon. But he hadn’t said it. He was just trying to take care of her, which, okay, was sweet, but entirely misguided.

Hog padded over to her, watching her face carefully before pushing up against her legs with a soft whine.

Simon stood up too and held the blanket closed for her. “This is something that’s easy for me to do, and it protects you.”

She held up a hand. “Just to be clear,” she said, not giving away any of her sudden urge to beat him over the head with a couch cushion. “You’re proposing to me so I’ll be covered by your insurance.”

“It’s the solution to all your problems,” Simon said.

Look at him with all the answers. “Yeah,” she said tightly, holding on to her composure by a thread. “Except one—you proposing to me for insurance reasons.”

“It’d get you the surgery—”

“Oh my God.” The man had lost his mind. “I’m not marrying you for insurance coverage, Simon! I’d rather stay exactly as I am.”

“But—”

“No.” Damn, she never knew she could be so hurt and mad at the same time. No, that wasn’t actually true, was it? She just never thought she’d be here in this state again. She’d learned nothing. “The last guy I was engaged to, the second things got difficult, he bailed. And now you’re offering to marry me for the insurance. So tell me, Simon, how’s that going to last, if love couldn’t?”

“We love each other,” he said.

There it was, but somehow it no longer mattered. Hog was licking her toes. Apparently he loved her too. She nodded, her throat so tight it hurt to talk. “The answer’s still no.” She went to storm out before remembering she was in her own apartment. So she yanked open the front door. “Please go.”

Simon moved toward her. “Emma—”

“I want to be alone.”

He opened his mouth, but she was done. She gave him a nudge over the doorsill and shut the door on his sexy, handsome, confused face.