“Max Walters.” I roll on top of her, my hips pressing into hers. “Are you asking me to be your boyfriend?” “No. You told me you murder people, so it seems like this has gotten pretty serious.” “Should I get a little piece of paper that says check yes or no?” “You’re exhausting.” She touches my cheek, but she can’t stop smiling. “But, hypothetically, how would you answer?” Baby, I’d put a ring on your finger tomorrow if it wouldn’t scare you off. What cake flavor should we go with? Do you want two kids or four?
