The Proposal

“Shhhh, he’s almost here!”

I stand frozen, sudden terror locking my limbs in place. “Aiden, act natural!” someone shouts, but how can I? What if he says no?

Then Oliver is walking through the door, and all nerves and worries melt right off me, water dripping into puddles beneath icicles. I can never be afraid or uptight when he’s around. I feel the box in my pocket lighten considerably.

“So,” Ollie’s saying to me, “a cookie party, huh?”

“Yeah, I thought it would be fun,” I murmur, leaning into his arms. They’re warm, despite the frigid temperature outside.

Kat quickly flings herself onto us as well, unable to contain her excitement. “I think it’s an awesome idea! Look, Aiden brought all these toppings and stuff and all different kinds of cookie dough to make a whole bunch! Cute, right?”

I want to take the crinkles by his eyes and keep them in my pocket for the rest of my life. “He’s always cute,” he says, kissing me between the eyebrows. I duck my head into his chest, trying unsuccessfully to hide the blush creeping across my cheeks. Damn him.

He slides off his jacket and gives me another quick kiss as our friends resume their chatter, doing their best to distract him from the work at their hands. Tashi smears icing across Kat’s face, making her squeal and everyone else laugh. Another stab of doubt pierces my brain as I resume my place around the table, this time with Ollie next to me. I want to drag him away, to somewhere private, hidden even from these people we love. Was this a good idea?

But as he laughs along with Wallace, who’s trying unsuccessfully to shape the dough into a dog, the cold fear in my chest begins to soften. He steps up to help, strong, nimble fingers expertly twisting the raw dough until it vaguely resembles a dog. Everyone pretends to bow their respect, but he hardly notices, instead turning to me with a lopsided grin.

“What are you trying to make?” he rumbles, lips inches from my ear. The coffee he drank on the way here tickles my nose.

I shrug, pulling sticky dough from my fingertips. “Nothing in particular. I’m mostly just playing with it.”

His eyebrow twitches, and I know he can tell I’m not fully here. I have to remind myself that he can’t actually read my thoughts to see that I’m already hours into the future, when the cookies are done and I’m getting on one knee. It only feels like he can, so attuned he is to my emotions. Thankfully he doesn’t try to pry in front of our friends but instead reaches to put his hands around mine.

“Look,” he murmurs, his touch sending shivers down my spine, “if you just shape it a little bit here, it looks like a heart.”

I look into his smiling eyes and a grin spreads across my face before I can even think about it. “I love you,” I whisper, leaning my head against his cheek for a brief moment.

“I love you too, baby,” he whispers back, licking my temple to make me smack him.

I take a breath to steady my nerves. This is going to be fine. He’ll find it funny. He definitely won’t be embarrassed that I asked all our closest friends over to do this extremely private thing in front of them… right?

It’s too late now. The first batch of cookies are already cooling on the stove top, frankensteined versions of chocolate chip and peanut butter, snickerdoodle and macadamia, any combination we could have possibly morphed together. There’s a good chance none of these will taste good.

This doesn’t seem to occur to the others, who immediately set to work on the task I had asked of them, diligently designing the cookies. I pull Ollie slightly to the side under the guise of making an interesting cookie shape that definitely won’t last in the oven, to give them the room to get it done.

All too soon, the last bit of icing is in place. “Hey, Oliver,” Wallace calls, the face of total innocence. “Come check out our designs!”

As he turns to look, I fumble for the box in my pocket. My hands are so sweaty I’m afraid I won’t be able to grab it. My eyes stay locked on the back of his head, watching and waiting for his reaction. I can feel the others all holding their breath, watching his face closely.

“What?” I hear him say softly, and then he’s turning to me, the wonder in his eyes making him seem much younger.

He looks down at me, on one knee, the open box showing a silver ring, “Mo Anam Cara.” My soulmate. I both expect and am surprised by the tears that gather in his eyes.

“Oliver Arlo,” I manage to say, my voice thick with the emotion mirrored in those tears. “You are the sweetest thing I have ever had the honor of having in my life. Will you marry me?”

With a choked laugh, he pulls me to my feet and kisses me fiercely. We don’t break apart but rather move so that our foreheads are touching rather than our lips as we giggle together.

“Yo!” Tashi calls out. “Answer the man!”

With another chuckle, he looks back at the cookies that spell out “Marry me, Oliver?” Shaking his head, his leaking eyes find mine again. “You’re so gay,” he whispers.

“Aren’t you lucky for that,” I laugh, but my voice catches the slightest bit.

Sensing my anxiety, he smiles and kisses me slowly, deeply before pulling away with only our hands joining us.

“Aiden Aberlee,” he says formally. “I would be thrilled to marry you.”

“Yes!” someone screams, but I don’t even process their voice, so focused am I on slipping the ring onto his finger. He catches my hand again and laces our fingers together as our friends erupt in cheers. I hardly hear them as I let my head fall onto my love’s shoulder, a sigh of relief escaping my lips.

"I love you so much," he whispers into my hair.

"I love you too."