I always had my dream proposal in my head. It was natural for any girl to think about how she would be proposed to, when it would happen, etc. My particular fantasy had to do with lots of flowers and music, potentially a romantic dinner somewhere. There would be dancing and laughter before I was quietly whisked away to a private setting, where the man of my dreams would get down on bended knee and beg me to complete his life by becoming his bride.

It didn’t happen in a bathroom while I was dressed in nothing but a tightly-wrapped towel with a toothbrush in my mouth.

Gabe Hightower, my adoring boyfriend of ten months, was leaning up against the doorjamb watching me get ready for work. His copper hair was mussed beautifully, despite the fact that he had literally just rolled out of bed not ten minutes ago. His blue eyes were shockingly bright that day, glittering with something close to anticipation. He was slender and toned, boasting a successful college soccer career back in England, where he was from.

He never really told me why he made the journey “across the Pond”, but I guess I never really cared. If he hadn’t, I would never have met him. We would never have bumped into each other at our favorite Chinese take-out place. We would never have made out on our first date (which had been watching old movies while eating Chinese). We would never have been so blissfully happy with each other’s company.

It was while he was watching me with his brilliant eyes that my dreams of a romantic proposal dissipated into smoke.

“Marry me,” was all he said. I stopped brushing furiously to stare at him.

“What?” The foam in my mouth made the word come out mushy, but it was still audible. I was sure I had misheard the Londoner; surely he didn’t just demand that I marry him.

“I said, marry me,” he repeated patiently, unfurling his arms and crossing the tiny space between us to wrap them around my waist. “Come with me to England and let me introduce you as my future wife.”

“Have you lost your mind?” I asked incredulously. It had only been ten months. Ten months!

He shook his head while looking at our reflections in the mirror. My rather violent reaction to his proposal didn’t seem to discourage him; I was fairly temperamental, something he learned early on in our relationship.

“Of course, not.” He kissed my bare neck. “I love you more than anything in the world and I want you to be mine. So, logically, that means marry me.”

I took the toothbrush out of my mouth, spat into the sink, and rinsed the brush. Maybe if I pretended that he didn’t just ruin my hopes for the ideal proposal, it’ll turn out to be some odd joke.

“Rory,” he murmured, prompting me to look at him. “Are you going to answer me?”

Was I? Rationality told me that if I didn’t scoop him up now, I may never get another chance. The other part—the wounded pride part—was still miffed that he asked while I was brushing my teeth. Still thinking, I pulled away from him and started to get dressed, keeping my mouth clamped shut in case it ran away with me before I had come to a full decision.

“Aurora, please tell me you aren’t going to leave me hanging here,” Gabe said as he followed me, his sweet cologne wafting ahead of him while I tugged a sweater over my head.

“Okay,” I replied cattily, “I’m not going to leave you hanging.”

I heard him sigh as I dug around for a matching pair of pants. “You’re bloody kidding me.”

I glowered at him. “It’s your own fault,” I snapped. “You freaking proposed to me while I was brushing my teeth!”

“So?” he replied defensively.

I stared at him. “So?!” I half-shrieked. “THAT WAS COMPLETELY UNROMANTIC!”

Now furious, I stormed out of the bedroom and out of the apartment, slamming the door behind me dramatically. I had my phone out, calling the one person who would understand.

“Hello?” came the groggy response.

“Please tell me you’re on your way to work,” I begged.

“Rory? What time is it?” the sleeping beauty moaned. I silently counted down the seconds before she saw her digital clock’s projection on the ceiling. “Holy shit!”

“I’ll see you in a bit,” I told my best friend, Bree Michaels. She and I had been roommates during college; we suited each other with our equally tempestuous personalities and flashing insecurities. Bree was a little higher up on the bitchy scale, especially when she was running on less than six hours of sleep, but all in all she was the best company a girl could have.

The pair of us worked at a local café, which was only a few blocks away from my apartment in the Upper West Side. It wasn’t great, but it paid the student loans and rent.

I dropped my stuff off in the back of the café, grabbing my apron as I checked the status of the coffee. Bree and I always preferred working first shift to avoid dealing with other peoples’ air-brained mistakes, like not making enough coffee or letting food sit out for too long.

The side door opened again, revealing a fairly disgruntled Bree. She threw her stuff up beside mine, grabbing her apron as she muttered something about faulty alarms.

“Morning to you, too,” I said with a grin as I started the coffee pots. Bree shot me a withering glare before taking out a crate of cups to haul into the front. I followed her out, taking a couple cups and saucers at a time and placing them on the small tables. We worked silently until all the tables were properly set before making our way to front counter, our usual post while we waited for the early-birds to arrive. Bree passed the time by braiding her long, auburn hair while glowering at the counter. I desperately want to talk to her about Gabe’s sudden lapse in sanity, but I knew that all I would get was bitter remarks until she finally cooled down about running late. Again.

“So, how’s life in paradise?” she asked as she made herself a toasted bagel. The benefit of working at a café was getting free food; it also helped when you were the manager’s favorite workers.

I rolled my eyes. It was my turn to glower. “Death-spiraling.”

She raised an eyebrow at me. “Care to elaborate?” she prompted, spreading a layer of cream cheese on the bagel.

I sighed. “He proposed this morning,” I muttered, my fingers tapping against the counter irritably.

“Um, Rory? That’s a good thing,” she said, pointing out the obvious.

I gnashed my teeth together. “Not when it happens while you’re brushing your teeth.”

Her mouth formed an O before her expression sank into an incredulous grimace. “Are you serious? He proposed while you were getting ready for work?” she clarified. I nodded glumly. “Well, that makes a total difference then. I mean, he knows you’re a hopeless romantic and everything. What was he thinking?”

“That she’d say yes anyway,” Gabe said as he suddenly materialized in front of us. Bree and I yelped in surprise, flying back away from the counter, clutching at our hearts.

“Sweet Jesus!” Bree breathed. “Where the hell did you come from?” She eyed the bell above the door bitterly for failing to alert us anyone had shown up.

“Well, Bree, there’s this wonderful invention called a door—”

“Ha-freaking-ha,” she replied acidly. “I meant, how long were you there?”

He smiled charmingly. “Long enough to decide that I’m not going to leave this café until she agrees to marry me.”

I raised an eyebrow. That was hardly a formidably threat. “Well, if you’re looking for a cushy place to sleep tonight, I recommend table seven. We just had them reapholstered.” I grabbed a pad and pen before scooting out from behind my fortress to take care of our first official customer.

“Rory!” he cried with exasperation, following me around like a shadow. “Is there seriously about how I proposed?” he asked, finally cutting around a table to block my way. “Is that the only reason you won’t just say yes?”

I met his gaze evenly, my will buckling for a moment under the intensity of his blue eyes. “Move,” I said forcefully, avoiding his question. I wasn’t too sure that how he asked me bugged me more than the mysterious why. We had only been seriously dating for ten months, hardly enough time to establish an unshakable relationship. Certainly, I was in love with him; more than anything in the world. But could I say the same for him? For all I knew, he could be itching to get married in order to secure a green card.

“Not until you answer the question, Rory,” he said firmly, his jaw set. I sighed, backtracking to skip around the rather gorgeous roadblock. Bree watched contentedly from behind the counter, handing me what I needed whenever I approached. To her, the whole scenario was like a scene from a treasured chick-flick.

“Aurora Lynn Cole, answer my question right now!” Gabe finally exploded, still standing in the center of the café. The few customers we actually had at the moment watched the pair of us with the same curious and amused expression as Bree.

I winced at the use of my full name before glowering at him for causing a scene. “You’re going to have to be specific, Gabriel James Hightower,” I shot back, folding my arms angrily across my chest. “You’ve asked several in the last hour.”

He breathed heavily through his nose in frustration. For a brief moment, I noticed how sexy he looked when he was flustered.

“Will you marry me?” he asked through clenched teeth.

“No comment.”

He threw his hands up in anger as he exhaled sharply. “Why not?” he demanded.

I shot him a glare. “I didn’t say no,” I snapped. “I just said no comment.”

“Same difference!”

I rolled my eyes. “Quit being melodramatic,” I reproached. “It’s unattractive.”

“Then tell me why you won’t bloody marry me!” he pleaded, crossing the room to stand in front of me. “Do you love me?” he asked.

I snorted. “Of course!”

“Then marry me.”

“Why?” I asked. “Why are you suddenly so interested in getting married?”

He stared at me. “Do you have commitment issues?” he asked incredulously.

I gaped at him. “No!” I snapped. “I just think it’s weird that you want to marry me after ten months of even knowing me! God!”

He shook his head. “I fail to see the complication here. I love you. I want you. Logically, marrying you and making you legally mine is the next step. Tell me why you won’t say yes.”

“Well, because… how do I know you really want to marry me because you love me?” I finally blurted, letting the truth tumble from me. “What if this is a scheme to secure yourself a green card, to protect yourself from getting deported?”

Gabe stared at me, along with the rest of the people in the café, before bursting into laughter. He wrapped his hands around his waist and bent over his knees, his shoulders shaking with his very loud and amused laughs. Some people in the café joined him quietly, because my very real fears were obviously something to laugh at.

I stood there, glowering at Gabe as he slowly settled down to the point of gasping for breath. “Are you finished?” I asked menacingly. He looked at me, his blue eyes soft.

“Rory, do you honestly believe that I would use you like that?” he asked quietly.

I wasn’t about to let his sudden wave of kindness weaken my resolve. I lifted my chin slightly, still glowering at him. “No, but I didn’t think you were going to propose to me after ten months either.”

He sighed, walking over to me with his hands in his pockets. “Rory, Rory, Rory,” he sighed, looking at me gently. “I love you; I always will. I don’t need to spend years with you before I figure that out. I’ve known since our third date that you were the one girl in the world I could settle down with, which is a feat for me, as you know. Life with you is always exciting and entertaining; it’s impossible not to smile with you, not to laugh with you.”

Gabe stopped in front of me, his face inches from mine. “You know that I will do everything in my power to make you happy, to make you smile. All that I ask in return is your hand in marriage,” he concluded softly, taking out the ominous black box from his pocket. He lifted the lid as he gracefully lowered himself onto one knee, holding the breath-taking ring up to me for inspection.

It was an heirloom, that much I could discern from the design of the exquisite piece. A hefty diamond was the centerpiece, with tiny diamonds sprinkling the platinum band around the gem. Despite my anger, I was compelled to reach out and touch the piece of jewelry. Yep, it was real.

“Aurora Cole,” Gabe murmured, “will you please marry me?”

I looked at him, forgetting the reason for our argument the minute the adoration in his eyes registered with me. There was no doubting how he felt for me; the only thing standing in the way of our future happiness was my vanity.

“Yes,” I gasped, nodding in case he didn’t hear me. Bree shrieked with laughter as she ran around the counter and hugged me while Gabe slid the ring onto my finger. I pulled out of Bree’s embrace to wrap my arms around Gabe’s neck.

“You still want me to meet your family, right?” I asked him.

He smiled. “Naturally.”

“Bree comes with me,” I told him.

“Of course.”

“And we aren’t even going to mention wedding plans until I bring them up myself.”

“As you wish, love.” I rolled my eyes.

“Oh, kiss me already!”