“Um,” Cade said, getting lost in nerves and despair. “You’d think I’d be better at this—I’ve written literally hundredsof drafts of proposals for the stage but I—oh, fuck. It mattersthis time. It’s you.”
“Cadence,” Jeremiah said, eyes enormous, tone very much that of a person granted one wish and trying to believe it, “did you just—are you asking me to—marry you?”
“I think…yes? Or if not now, not yet, if you would, um, maybe someday, if you’d even think about—”
“Yes!” Jeremiah flung arms around him, making the bed creak with joyfulness. “Yes, of course yes—I said yes to you already, I said it earlier, downstairs—I love you, I was thinking, I love you. I only didn’t know if you—oh, fuck, Cade, yes. I’m yours. Completely yes.”
“You said yes.”
“Everything,” Jeremiah said. “Yes to everything. It’ll be complicated and I don’t know what I’m doing and we have four weeks to do it. And you made me a professor and made us into ambassadors of culture or something—”