I look down at Logan’s sleeping form. “More than anything.”

“You’re going to have to marry him.”

I pretend to pout. “Well, if I have to…”

Sam laughs. “I’m glad he has you. I’m glad we all do.”

Tears prick at the backs of my lashes, but I blink them back. Sam pulls me into a tight hug, and I don’t know what do for a minute. I get this from Matt all the time but never Sam.

Sam turns away from me, and I see the tattoo on the back of his neck. I don’t know why I never noticed it before. It says “Pete” in big, chunky, gothic-looking letters.

“Why do you have Pete’s name tattooed on your neck?” I ask.

He grins widely. “When we were twelve, our dad still couldn’t tell us apart. So, he decided to tattoo our names on our necks.” He smiles even more broadly. “When he sat us down in the chair, he asked which one I was, and I said Pete. And then he put my name on Pete’s neck. Our mom was so angry. You have no idea.” He rubs at the back of his neck. “I kind of like it.”

“I do, too.”

Logan

It has been a week since I woke up. I hurt like a motherfucker for days, but it’s getting better. Today, I get to go home. Emily is on the way to pick me up, and we’re going to her apartment, since she has an elevator and I can’t take the stairs. My leg is in a cast from the middle of my thigh to my toes. It itches like crazy, but they keep telling me not to scratch it.

The nurse helps me settle into a wheelchair. They say I can’t walk out of here. I want to go home so badly. Or at least go somewhere that I can sleep in a bed with Emily. Somewhere that I can hold her close and keep her next to me. I never, ever want to let her go.

She comes out of the elevator just as we’re heading toward it. She smiles, and my heart tries to take a flying leap out of my chest. I f**king love her so much. She holds the elevator door open, and the nurse pushes me past her.

Ready to go home? she asks.

I nod. It’s rude to sign in front of hearing people; I know this, but I have to tell her. I can’t wait to go home and take you to bed. I waggle my eyebrows at her.

She giggles. Are you well enough for that?

You might have to get on top.

Shit. I’m getting hard just thinking about it.

The nurse in the elevator with us bumps into my chair, and then I see her cough into her closed fist. Emily pats her on the back. “You okay?” she asks.

The woman nods. I think she’s really laughing, but I can’t tell.

A black sedan pulls up to the curb, and I see Emily’s dad driving it. My gaze shoots to hers, and she smiles.

He wanted to do it, she signs.

Why?

She shrugs. Ask him.

“Logan,” her dad says in greeting. His eyes meet mine, and he sticks out his hand to shake. I take it, and his grip is firm and strong. “How are you feeling?”

“Ready to go home, Mr. Madison.”

“Please, call me Ralph,” he says. My gut clenches, and I look toward Emily but she’s stowing my belongings in the trunk. I stand up tentatively, holding onto the edge of the door. I get into the front seat because there’s more room. I hop on one foot until I’m in position and then drop down into the car.

After the door is shut, the nurse who pushed me turns to me and signs, Hope you feel better soon. Shit. She can sign. I scrub a hand down my face in embarrassment, but she’s laughing. Take it easy, and don’t overdo it, she instructs.

I nod as heat creeps up my face. Emily just smiles and shakes her head. Busted. This is why you don’t sign in front of hearing people. Aside from the fact that it’s just rude.

Her dad is quiet the whole way to her house. He doesn’t say a word and neither does she.

When the car stops outside Emily’s apartment, he gets out and opens the door for me. I stick my hand out again. “Thank you for the ride, sir,” I say.

He brushes my hand away and helps me get settled on my crutches. “I’d like to come upstairs so we can talk.”

I look for Emily again, but she is in the driver’s seat of the car, and she waves to me as she pulls away.

“Where is she going?” I ask.

“To run some errands and to pick up your medicine,” he says.

“One of my brothers could have done that.”

He waves a hand at me. “No need.”

Henry, the doorman, rushes forward and helps me turn to get through the door. “So glad you’re back, Logan,” he says.

“Me, too,” I say with a laugh.

Emily’s dad smiles, and I still don’t know what to do with his unexpected friendship. He’s quiet in the elevator, and he doesn’t speak when I take out a key and let myself into Emily’s apartment. I should probably explain why I have a key, but I really don’t want to.

I drop onto the couch. I’m exhausted, and I really didn’t walk very far.

“Are you hurting?” he asks.

“No.” I look around the room. “Where’s Trip?” I expected to find him in his boxers on Emily’s couch.

“He has gone back to LA,” Mr. Madison admits.

He sits down opposite me on the couch and looks uncomfortable. But it’s not the I-don’t-know-what-to-say-to-you uncomfortable. It’s more like the I’m-emotional kind of uncomfortable, which makes me not know what to do for him.

“For good?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“Oh, wow.” I didn’t see that one coming.

“Logan, I need to apologize to you,” he says. His cheeks are rosy, and he’s obviously anxious.

“It’s really not necessary, Mr. Madison,” I begin.

He cuts me off by holding up a hand. “Ralph,” he corrects. “I need to thank you,” he says again. “What you did took amazing courage.”

“Really,” I say, trying to cut him off.

“Let me f**king finish, will you?” he asks, still smiling.

Did he just drop the f-bomb? “Have you been hanging out with my brothers?” I ask.

He chuckles. “No, but I’m from the same f**king area as you. I just forgot somewhere along the way where I came from.”

I don’t know what to say. I had no idea Mr. Madison had poor roots.

“I grew up dirt-poor. In a worse neighborhood than yours.” He blows out a breath. “Somewhere along the way, I lost sight of what’s important,” he says. “My family means the world to me. Without them, I am nothing.”

He grimaces as though he doesn’t know what to say next.

“I’m proud that you’re in my daughter’s life. I couldn’t be more pleased with her choice in someone to love.”

“Thank you, sir,” I say. I’ve been blindsided, and I feel like someone has flipped my world around. I didn’t see this coming at all.

“I know you have plans to be with my daughter forever.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small jewelry box. He presses it into my hands. I open it up, and there’s a small diamond engagement ring inside. You would probably need a microscope to see the diamond, but that’s okay. The ring is beautiful, with a lot of detailed etching around the band. It looks like an antique. “If you decide to ask her to marry you at some point, I’d like you to know you have my blessing. And you can use her grandmother’s ring.” He suddenly looks uncomfortable again. “Or you can use your own. I don’t particularly care.”

I remember what he said to me once, about buying my wife a tiny diamond and living with her in a shitty apartment. He shrugs. He remembers it, too.

“Thank you, sir.” I feel like someone has stolen all my wits. “I don’t know what to say.”

“I’m not implying that you have to ask her anytime soon.”

“I plan to ask her as soon as possible,” I admit. I’ve been planning it since I woke up in the hospital. I don’t want to be away from her for a single second. Ever.

“When you do, you have my blessing, and her mother’s.” He points a finger at me in warning. “I feel like you’re a good man. But if you do anything that will ever break her heart, I’ll have to do terrible things to you.” He glares down his nose at me. “I know people.” He smiles, though.

I look down at my broken leg. “Losing Emily would be punishment enough,” I say. I need to tell him something. I take a deep breath. “I feel like I need to come clean on something.”

His arches his eyebrows and sits forward. “Please do.”

“I didn’t try to push you out of the way that night. Emily was coming up behind you, and I wanted to get to her. So, I shoved you, hoping you would fall into her like dominoes.” I shrug. “It worked.”

He laughs, his chest filling with chuckles. “I know.”

“You did?” How the hell did he know that?

“Yes, I saw the look on your face. No one is that scared over a man who has treated him like a piece of shit.” He sits back and regards me, his eyes narrowing. “When you saw that car coming, you had this look that told me that you were completely in love with my daughter and that you would sacrifice yourself for her.” He nods toward the ring. “That’s why I gave you my blessing. Not because you saved my life.”

“Oh.” I probably sound like an idiot, but I don’t know what to say.

“Two more things before Emily gets back.” He looks anxiously toward the door. “One—when you’re ready, there’s an internship waiting for you at Madison Avenue in the advertising department. You’re a talented artist, Logan, and I could use someone like you.” He holds up a hand to stay me when my mouth falls open. “Trip admitted to me that you designed that advertising campaign. And you’re very talented.” He smiles, and it actually reaches his eyes. Maybe I’ve had too many pain meds. “You won’t start at the top just because you’re marrying my daughter.”

I peer at him, wondering who this man is who is sitting here giving me praise. “I wouldn’t expect any special treatment.” Or accept any for that matter.

He looks toward the door again. “The second thing,” he says. He licks his lips and then his eyes meet mine. “Do you think you could design a tattoo for me? I want something that represents my life. A tattoo that means something to me.”

He wants a tat? “Did you have something in mind?” I ask.

He shakes his head and claps me on my good knee. “I know you’ll come up with something perfect.”

The door opens, and Emily walks into the room. I stuff the ring box down in the couch cushions.

“Give it some thought, and let me know when you’re ready to do it,” he says. He holds a finger in front of his mouth like he’s imparting a secret.

I nod.

He kisses Emily on the cheek and walks out the door. She rushes over to my side. “What did he say to you?”

I still can’t believe it. “He told me he loves me.” I grin at her.

She rolls her eyes and slaps my shoulder. “Be serious.”

“I am,” I complain. “I’m injured. Don’t beat on me.” I catch her hands and pull her toward me.

She sits down next to me. “What did he say, really?” she asks.

“He said I can ask you to marry me,” I say to her, pressing my forehead to hers. I kiss her quickly.

She lays a hand on her chest and inhales and exhales heavily. “What?”

I shrug. “I asked him before the accident if I could have his permission to ask you to marry me. He refused.” I look toward the door he just went through. “He changed his mind.” I reach into the couch cushions and pull out the box. I was going to wait for a special occasion, but I don’t want to wait. I want to put a ring on her as soon as possible. I want her to be mine. All mine.

Her eyes go wide when I show her the box.

“I can’t quite go down onto one knee,” I say in apology.

Her eyes fill with tears, and I stuff the box back down in the cushions.

“We can do this another time,” I say.

“Are you kidding?” she asks. She takes my shirt in her fists and jerks me toward her. “Ask me. Ask me. Please ask me.” She’s in my face, and I’ve never been more in love with her than I am right now. But she sits back, looks at me sheepishly, and says, “If you want to ask me, that is. You don’t have to ask me if you don’t want to.”

I wrap my arm around her head and give her a noogie. “I don’t just want to. I have to.”

She looks up at me, her thoughts in as much turmoil as her hair.

“I can’t live without you, dummy,” I try to explain.

She grins at the term of endearment. There was a time that a word like that would have shredded her; now it’s just a word. A funny one, too, because she’s the opposite of dumb.

“I love you,” she says. She kisses me, her tongue sweeping into my mouth, the gentle touch of it against mine making me go rock hard immediately.

“Get the box back out,” she says. I can feel her grin against my lips when she goes back to kissing me.

“What box?” I ask.

“The ring. Ask me. I promise I’ll say yes.”

“You’re so easy,” I tease.

She wasn’t always easy. It was damn hard loving her in the beginning, but I couldn’t avoid it. She’s like a piece of me that was missing all my life. I can’t imagine a day without her. I reach into the cushions and pick up the box. My heart is thumping in my chest like a roofer’s hammer, even though she just told me she was going to accept. I open the box, and it creaks on its hinges.