I shouldn't have agreed to this. But I'd been so busy with my senior year projects that when Beau said he wanted to plan a spring break getaway, I went along with it. I didn't have time to make travel plans, and he'd assured me that the only thing I would need to do was show up.

So here I was, showing up.

Beau was loading my bags into the trunk, which he had insisted on packing, and I couldn't help but notice how many of them there were. I had a hunch—okay, more than a hunch—that we weren't just driving down the coast to Malibu this year.

Beau slid into the front seat behind the steering wheel, flashing me a cheeky grin.

And then not answering me.

"Are we flying or driving?" I probed.

His smile grew.

"We're flying, aren't we?"

He nodded as he pulled away from the curb, and my stomach flipped. I mulled over the possibilities as Beau drove quietly, biting down on his lip to contain how much he was enjoying this.

When I started to recognize the direction he was taking, I turned to look at him with a firm glare. "In a regular plane or your mom's plane?"

Beau seemed to consider that, and I immediately knew his answer. I should have known.

"You know," he said. "I did look at booking us business class tickets. But I honestly couldn't find a flight out that had six spots left on it today."

My gaze sharpened. "Six?"

Beau absolutely lost it then, his mouth stretching so wide that he had to cover his smile for a little laugh. At that exact moment, we pulled up to the small, private airport to find Bren, Madie, Nessa, and Grayson standing outside of it, large suitcases sitting in front of them.

"You didn't tell me we were all going!" I cried, giving his arm a little slap before trying to get out of the car before it had halted. Beau grabbed my wrist to stop me.

"We are all going," he said, his voice suddenly husky and deep. "But we're all staying in our own suites because I damn well need some alone time with you after how busy we've both been."

A shiver ran down my spine at the intent in his eyes.

"That sounds good," I said, feeling breathless.

"Damn right, it sounds good," Beau grunted before releasing my wrist and letting me jump from his car and all but into the arms of Nessa.

"Surprise!" Enthusiasm painted her face, and I elbowed her in the side—payback for keeping this from me. I'd spent the better part of the last two weeks complaining to her about Beau keeping this trip so under wraps, and if I had to guess, she knew way more about it than I did the entire time.

"Do you know where we're going?"

Her sly smile embedded her answer.

I threw my head back and laughed, feeling light after weeks of hard work in the art studio. "I can't believe you."

"Just please...no one light any candles on the plane, okay?" Grayson grumbled. "We don't need a repeat of our last spring break together."

"Don't worry," Beau said, walking around the car to meet us, rolling the luggage behind him. "Cato isn't going to be making any guest appearances this time. He's back in Sacramento with my parents, and my dad said he'd keep a close eye out. Just in case, you know, he started to get any ideas."

That was relieving, mostly because I didn't care for another surprise. However, I felt confident I'd be able to tell the difference between the twins now. They truly were identical, but Beau carried himself differently. And Cato was just more of an ass. Even if he had come around in the past two years to be less of one.

Before we could get swept up in more conversation, Beau led us through the small airport to the jet. He boarded first, and I could hear him greeting the crew inside cheerily. How did I end up dating the most non-pretentious millionaire ever to exist?

"Did you ever think that we'd be here?"

I glanced beside me to realize that Bren and I were the only ones still standing on the tarmac. He stared at the plane for a long moment before looking at me, squinting through the California sun rays.

"We did it, Collins."

"We didn't do it yet," I said, trying to push down the emotion in my throat. "We still have like two months until graduation."

I'd busted my ass these last years, taking on summer courses and unthinkable workloads so that I could finish my degree at the same time as Beau. I knew his parents had big plans for him—that is, if he chose to accept them. But he wouldn't, not if it meant separating from me.

If there was one thing I'd learned about Beau...it was that he'd pick me over everything. And if there was one thing that I'd learned about myself...it was that I secretly loved that. Being someone's first choice every time? Everyone deserved to have this feeling.

"Answer the question," Bren said, rolling his eyes at my evasion. "Did you ever think we'd be here?"

I stared back at the plane. The wind whisked my curls, and my ears strained to hear what the others were saying aboard amid ongoing bits of laughter.

"I don't know about you," Bren went on, "but I don't know if I ever thought that life would...work out. I didn't think I had a future."

"I didn't either," I whispered, admitting something I wasn't even sure I'd ever admitted to myself. "I thought I was stuck in Fresno for good...or maybe even in jail." I paused and then finally answered the question. "No, I never thought we'd be here."

When I faced Bren again, I noticed his lips pulled in a taut line. "You wouldn't have gone to jail."

I shrugged. "Innocent people go to jail all the time."

"Have you heard from them?"

I didn't have to ask who he was talking about.

A shake of my head. "But I blocked Denver's number a long time ago."

Bren gave me a pointed look. "If he wanted to get in touch, you know he would have. He showed up at OSU more than once."

"True," I agreed. "But I'm sure he's been busy trying to run a failing investment corporation."

We both released tiny snickers.

"Beau's mom really did them in, huh?"

"Oh, yeah."

Their downfall shouldn't give me such a sense of peace, but it did. People like them shouldn't have the kind of power that they had. And now they didn't.

"Well." Sighing, Bren relaxed. "You, Collins Bryant, are going somewhere much better than jail today."

"You know where we're going?"

"I sure do," Bren said, a smile exploding onto his face, his brooding pushed aside. "But Beau's been bursting at the seams about this forever, so I'm not gonna be the one to spill the beans."

He started up the stairs, but I grabbed his arm to stop him.

"Bren."

He glanced back over his shoulder.

"Thank you."

I never would have met Beau if Bren Hadaway hadn't convinced me to go on a date with him. I never would have left Fresno if he hadn't persuaded me to leave. I wouldn't be months away from my degree if he hadn't told me to take a leap. I wouldn't have moved in with Beau and Nessa if he hadn't insisted that it was the perfect solution.

It maybe hadn't ended up being perfect—not all the time—but it was perfect for me.

Beau was perfect for me.

Bren nodded, his lips curving knowingly.

"You're welcome, Collins."

****

"We've been on this plane for hours. You're really not going to tell her?"

I felt Beau's chuckle rumble up my back. He wrapped his arm around me, practically forcing me to lean against his chest. Not that I minded.

"I want to see her expression when those doors open and...voilà!"

"Was that a hint?" I asked sleepily. "Are we going to France?"

Madie shook her head, and Beau immediately chastised her.

"No hints, Madeline!" he hissed.

Bren threw a pretzel at Beau's face for that. Only one person in the world was allowed to call Madie by her full name.

I'd also noticed that Grayson was one of the only ones to call Nessa by her full name, but he didn't have nearly the same reaction that Bren did whenever someone else called her Wednesday. No, usually I just found him looking to Nessa to see what she'd do. Which lately was nothing. She didn't seem to care, and that always made Grayson smile.

Now, if any of us tried to call her Adler....we might have gotten a different reaction. I didn't know the story about why they always used each other's middle names, but I knew there must be one.

"You realize that when the plane doors open, the only thing she'll probably see is a tarmac, right?"

Nessa had a point. She was barely awake, snuggled beside Grayson, but she apparently had enough wits about her yet to be on my side.

Behind me, Beau sighed. "Go to sleep, Wednesday."

Nessa's lips curled a bit in amusement, but then she did, in fact, close her eyes.

And there went Grayson's grin.

The lights in the cabin were low, and Madie readjusted herself, too, clearly meaning to catch a bit of sleep before we landed. I'd nearly drifted off when Beau's quiet announcement startled me.

"I'm taking you to see some guy's balls made out of clay, baby girl."

My eyes flew open, and I twisted to look at him. "What?"

I saw his Cheshire-cat grin through the shadows on the plane. "Balls," he said. "Made out of clay."

"Like a...like a statue?"

He nodded, still smiling.

"Pretty sure those are made out of marbl—oh my God."

My hand flew to my mouth, clapping over it in a moment of sustained disbelief.

"Yep," Beau said smugly, looking pretty damn happy with himself.

"Italy?" I squealed. "We're going to Italy?"

Beau pointed at the small window, even though I was positive the only thing out there at the moment was the ocean. "Land of sculpted balls."

His ridiculousness didn't even register with me because I was too focused on trying to comprehend that we were going to Italy. Italy.

"Where—where are we staying?"

"Mostly in Florence. I learned that's where your man's balls are—"

"Please don't call Michelangelo's David my man."

"You're right. I felt a little stab of jealousy there for a second, didn't like it at all."

"You do realize what you just said, right?"

"Don't worry about it." Beau cleared his voice. "I've got my jealousy under control these days. See? I've already moved on."

I bit my tongue to keep from disagreeing with him. There were still times that Beau glared at Bren if he stole my attention for too long. It was rare, but it still happened on occasion.

But a statue?

This was new, even for him.

"Okay, so we're staying in Florence?" I asked, meaning to get us back on track. Excitement buzzed in my veins, and I wanted to know his plans, all our destinations, our entire trip itinerary.

Beau nodded. "Right by the Duomo." A slight pause. "A book I read...apparently the author wrote it while watching the Duomo being built."

I choked on a laugh. "What book are you reading that was written in the 1300s?"

"Well, it's actually an epic poem." Reclining in his seat, Beau pulled me closer, whispering in my ear. "Ever heard of Dante's Inferno?"

****

"Why would we skip the first floor, Beau?" I had to pick up my pace to keep up with him as he raced through the Uffizi Gallery. "The first floor is packed with some of my favorites."

He glanced back at me over his shoulder. "Yeah, but the second floor has baby cellos."

"Baby cellos?"

"Just—" The panic in his eyes was the only reason I didn't argue with him further. "Just wait. I'll show you."

There were so many people at the Uffizi today, but one of the employees had actually implied it was a slow day when we arrived. I found that incredibly hard to believe since every room we walked into was teeming with people.

But then Beau stopped short in the entryway to a room that was...empty.

Huh.

"Wha—"

"See?" Beau exclaimed, so loud that he had to clap a hand over his mouth when he realized that he was all but yelling in an art gallery. He pointed behind him to a massive painting with an angel, a goddess, and the blue sea. Oh. "Baby cellos!"

"Botticelli?" My gasp echoed through the empty room as I stared at The Birth of Venus, one of Sandro Botticelli's most famous works of art.

"Oh my god." I stepped toward the painting slowly, afraid it was a mirage that would vanish. "It's so beautiful."

A moment later, Beau's soft voice carried across the space. "You're so fucking beautiful, baby girl."

I glanced around, checking to ensure that Beau hadn't made his unashamed, blush-inducing declaration in front of other museum-goers. But not another soul was in sight.

"Where—where is every—"

My voice died, the remnants echoing in the empty space as I spun entirely around to find Beau a step behind me.

And on one knee.

"You said," he said, his voice shaking slightly, "that if you could go anywhere in the world, you'd want to come here. Exactly here. You wanted to come here and look at pieces of art that are like little slices of heaven."

"Beau..."

His name died on my lips because I couldn't think of anything else to say. My heart clambered up into my throat, trying desperately to get out. This couldn't be happening. Could this be happening?

I looked at Beau, and then I looked at his smile.

Yeah, it was definitely happening.

"I wanted to bring you here," he said. "Because I want to bring you everywhere, all over the world. After too many years of being forced to stay in California, you deserve to see so far beyond it. But you know why else?"

I blinked, only to be surprised by tears. "Why else?"

"Because you're my piece of art, Collins." He paused to take a deep breath. "You're my little slice of heaven. I don't understand anything about brush strokes, paints, or pottery, but I know a little about expression. I might not be able to paint a picture of you to express my feelings, but I can do this."

Beau fished in his pocket, pulling out a small black box. But when he opened it, I could barely even see the ring because my vision was so blurred.

"I love you, Collins," he breathed. It sounded like a prayer. "And I desperately want to marry you. Will you let me?"

The ability to breathe vanished, robbed by the words Beau had just uttered. My eyes wandered his face, soaking in the sight of him and trying to decide if it was real. I needed it to be real because there was nothing I wanted more than to be with Beau for the rest of my life.

His expression turned pained as he shifted on his knees.

"Yes or no, baby girl," he begged. "Talk to me."

Still struggling to talk—or even breathe—I nodded enthusiastically, but apparently, that wasn't good enough for Beau.

"Nah, I'm gonna need you to say it," he said, despite the corners of his lips tipping up in the hint of a grin.

"Yes!" I finally shoved out of my throat.

"Oh, thank God." Beau hung his head momentarily, and I saw him exhale. When he lifted his gaze again, it was bright and shiny. He stood, grinning but grumbling about how the cobblestone-style floor was hurting his knee. And then he slid the ring, which I could now see boasted a single solitaire diamond, onto my finger.

His hand cupped the back of my neck as we both looked up from the ring, and then the air shifted as we both realized what had just happened.

"Come here," he groaned, slamming his lips into mine.

Beau barely allowed me to come up for air for the next few minutes, kissing me like it was our very first kiss, but somehow I murmured the words I wanted to say against his lips.

"I love you."

Beau responded by groaning loudly. Which only urged me to repeat it.

"I love you so much, Beau."

"Fuck." At that, he tore his mouth away and wrapped me in his arms. "I'm getting carried away in a room with a bunch of naked paintings."

"Are the naked paintings why you're getting carried away?" I asked in a low voice, trailing a finger up his arousal, which was growing between us.

"Absolutely fucking not," he grunted, giving me a slow perusal that hinted at all the real reasons he'd grown hard beneath my hand. But Beau gently pried my touch away from him and, when he noticed my pout, sighed. "People are going to start coming back in soon, sweetheart."

I didn't even want to know the amount of money he must have dropped to get the gallery to clear out one of the most popular rooms in the middle of the day.

I dropped onto the bench before The Birth of Venus and tugged Beau with me. He immediately tossed an arm around my shoulders, and I leaned my head into the crook he'd made available for me. "Okay," I whispered, realizing a slight tremor moved through my body from all the excitement. "I want to stay for a little longer."

A kiss pressed against my head. "We can stay as long as you want."

"But we're meeting everyone else for dinner," I pointed out.

Beau chuckled. "I mean, that's still two hours from now. But I'll gladly cancel on them if you want to stay longer than two hours. I'd love to stay in this moment with you forever."

I grinned up at him. "Do they know?"

"That you're coming to dinner with a ring on your finger?" His smile became crooked. "They don't know yet, no. I'm honestly excited to see how pissed off Bren and Grayson are that I proposed first."

"Beau..." I chastised.

Grayson and Bren had rings tucked away in Beau's closet as they waited for the right times, so I knew it was a possibility they'd feel a certain way. But Bren had never been competitive like that. Even Grayson, considering how he was the captain of the OSU football team and their star player, wasn't all that competitive. He and Bren had championed my and Beau's relationship the entire way.

So if they felt a certain way about the proposal, it would only be because they were eager to be engaged, too. Not because Beau did it first.

"I'm kidding." Beau's expression carried no hint that he was truly kidding. "They know I've wanted this. They had to stop me from proposing sooner on like five different occasions."

My jaw fell a bit. "How long have you had the ring?"

His smile turned sheepish. "A long time, baby girl."

"How long?" I pressed.

He didn't answer me. "I know marriage probably wasn't on your mind. Not until you finish your degree and become this renowned artist and all that jazz, and that's fine. That's fine if you want to wait to have the wedding. I can wait, Collins. I'll wait for you. Always. But I just—I needed—"

"You needed to give me this because you needed me to know that you're mine forever."

"I mean..." Beau looked around the room in what looked like an attempt not to cry. "Hopefully you already knew, but yeah. I needed you to know that." His expression hardened. "And I needed people to know with a single look that you're fucking taken."

The raw possession made my insides curl deliciously.